Afgar

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A Moorish Spectacle: Afgar on the West End

The West End has a storied history of hosting lavish and exotic musicals, and Afgar, a romantic operetta, brought a taste of Moorish Spain to London audiences in the early 20th century. Opening at the Pavilion Theatre on September 17, 1919, this production ran for an impressive 300 performances, closing in mid-1920. With music primarily by Charles Cuvillier, a book by Fred Thompson and Worton David, and lyrics by Douglas Furber, Afgar was a dazzling successor to its Broadway run, offering a blend of romance, intrigue, and spectacle under the deft production of Frank Allenby. Though largely forgotten today, its West End success reflects the era’s fascination with Orientalist fantasy and theatrical extravagance.

Origins and Transatlantic Roots

Afgar began life as a French operetta, Afgar, ou les loisirs andalous, penned by Maurice Verne with music by Cuvillier. It premiered in Paris at the Théâtre de l’Athénée in 1909, captivating audiences with its tale of love in a Moorish harem. The English adaptation emerged a decade later, retooled by Thompson and David for Broadway’s Central Theatre, where it debuted on November 8, 1918, for a modest 23 performances. Despite its brief New York stint, producer Charles Dillingham saw potential, and the show crossed the Atlantic under Allenby’s stewardship for a grander West End unveiling.

The London production retained the essence of Cuvillier’s score while infusing additional songs by American composers like Irving Berlin and Felix Bernard, reflecting a transatlantic flair. Its arrival in 1919 capitalized on post-World War I optimism and a British appetite for escapist romance, making it a fitting jewel in the Pavilion’s crown.

The Plot: Love in a Harem

Set in an opulent Moorish palace in Spain, Afgar follows Don Juan de Syracuse, a dashing nobleman imprisoned by the tyrannical ruler Afgar. The plot centers on Don Juan’s quest to free his beloved Zaylah, a harem girl betrothed to Afgar, from her gilded cage. Disguised as a Moorish prince, Don Juan navigates a web of intrigue, aided by his quick-witted servant Miradil and the flirtatious harem girl Zarifa. Their scheme involves impersonation, a staged rebellion, and a daring escape, all while Afgar’s jealousy and paranoia threaten to unravel their plans.

The story climaxes with Don Juan and Zaylah’s triumphant flight to freedom, leaving Afgar outwitted and the harem in disarray. It’s a classic operetta blend of melodrama and comedy, punctuated by lavish dance numbers and romantic duets, designed to dazzle rather than provoke deep reflection a perfect confection for its time.

A Musical Mélange

Charles Cuvillier’s score anchors Afgar with its lush, romantic melodies, evoking the exoticism of Moorish Spain through swirling strings and percussive flourishes. Key numbers like “Garden of Morning” and “Sun of Mine” highlight the lovers’ passion, while Douglas Furber’s lyrics add a playful English twist. The West End production enriched this foundation with American interpolations, including Irving Berlin’s “Harem Life” and Felix Bernard’s “Rose of Seville,” infusing a jazzy bounce that nodded to postwar trends.

Performed with a full orchestra at the Pavilion, the music leaned into spectacle, with grand choral passages and sinuous dance sequences that showcased the ensemble’s talents. Critics praised its “tuneful allure” (The Times), though some noted the score’s reliance on familiar tropes over innovation a quibble lost on audiences enthralled by its pageantry.

The West End Run

Opening at the London Pavilion a venue known for its music hall roots and wartime cinema use Afgar marked a return to theatrical splendor. The cast featured British stars like Harry Welchman as Don Juan, whose robust tenor carried the romantic lead, and Alice Delysia as Zarifa, whose Parisian charm and vocal prowess electrified the stage. Lupino Lane, a comedic standout as Miradil, brought slapstick energy, while Amy Augarde’s Zaylah offered a tender counterpoint.

The production’s sets, designed to evoke a Moorish palace with arches and silks, dazzled alongside costumes dripping with beads and turbans. Running for 300 performances, Afgar thrived in the postwar glow, though its closure in 1920 coincided with shifting tastes and economic strains. Reviews lauded its “visual feast” (The Stage), cementing its status as a crowd-pleaser if not a critical darling.

A Broader Stage

Before its West End triumph, Afgar had a fleeting Broadway moment, and post-London, it inspired touring productions across the UK and Australia into the early 1920s. Its exotic allure and accessible romance made it a natural fit for regional stages, though it never regained the Pavilion’s grandeur. The show’s legacy lies more in its spectacle than its staying power, a precursor to later Orientalist fantasies like Kismet (1953), but without their enduring resonance.

Why It Faded

Afgar’s decline reflects both its historical context and inherent limitations. The early 1920s saw audiences gravitate toward jazz-age revues and sharper comedies, leaving operetta’s florid romanticism behind. Its Orientalist tropes once a draw now feel dated and reductive, limiting its appeal for modern revivals. Without a standout hit or a narrative bold enough to transcend its era, Afgar slipped into obscurity, a casualty of changing theatrical tides.

A Moorish Memory

For West End theatergoers of 1919, Afgar was a dazzling escape a chance to lose themselves in a Moorish fantasy of love and liberation. Its 300-performance run at the Pavilion showcased a postwar hunger for glamour and the talents of Welchman, Delysia, and Lane. Though it lacks the lasting fame of contemporaries like Chu Chin Chow (another Orientalist hit of the time), Afgar remains a vibrant snapshot of its moment an operetta that danced across the stage and into memory, leaving a trail of silks and songs in its wake. In the West End’s vast legacy, it’s a fleeting but fabulous footnote.