Contrary to the stage directions of the 1858 libretto, the scenography of the
1952 production of the Operetta Iheatre did not facilitate visual humor.
The reviews do not help us imagine sets and costumes, but photographs of
the actors show antique columns, meander patterns and tunics in various
compositions. If we compare these few photos with the stage directions
in György Hamos’s libretto, we can draw the conclusion that the scenery
contained anachronistic elements only in the scene of the Olympus. Although
the doorman’s small booth, mentioned in the script, is missing, Cupid’s desk
is visible with a phone and stamps on it among two-dimensional clouds that
may have been movable, since the promptbook requires “curtains of clouds
to go up” (Act 2, Scene 10), when the sleeping gods become visible. On the
other hand, the set of the first act showed nothing more than the “classic
Greek landscape” with a “tree-lined clearing” (Act 1, Scene 1), so it created
an antique milieu, slightly stylized, nevertheless serious, as opposed to
the “original” French libretto, the beginning of which is filled with cheeky
visual references. (For example, Aristaeus’ hut on the left has the inscription
“fabricant de miel, gros et detail, depöt au mont Hymette”, and the one on
Orpheus’ hut on the right reads “directeur de l’orphéon de Thèbes, leçons au
mois et au cachet”.*"*)
According to the Hungarian tradition, the so-called “operetta stairs” rose
on stage in all three acts, even behind the complex grid dividing the space in
the last act. Exaggerations could only be discovered in case of some figures,
e.g. on the face mask of Mars (Robert Ratonyi, being almost unrecognizable in
the photos), or on the slightly court jester-like costume of Kamill Feleki with
wide-drawn eyebrows. Overall, neither Zoltan Garas sets nor István Köpeczi
Boöcz’s costumes had transcended the scenic conventions of productions
of musical plays set in ancient Greek times, familiar from both Hungarian
and foreign stages, but only crossed with some ornaments. However,
the choreography was special indeed, produced by a Polish guest artist,
Eugeniusz Paplinski, who was just working in Budapest on the production
of Stanistaw Moniuszko’s Halka at the Opera House. The Operetta Theatre
sought to distinguish his work by mentioning the dances even on the poster:
the spectacular swirl of fire and water fairies unleashed by Pluto on Orpheus
at the end of the first act, the hilarious cancan that closed the second act, and
the bacchanalia inserted into the third act. (In addition, Tibor Polgar’s score
implies samba and rumba, among others, for dances accompanying some