Punch (7.1844)

THE THEATRES,

^PHE Season has begun ! Again do play-bill posters
give life to dead walls—again does the neighbour-
hood of Drury Lane begin to feel " music's pulse in all
its arteries"—again does the courteous Mr. Archer
sit invitingly at the Hay market Box-Office from ten
till four—and Madame Celeste, having taken " more
removed ground," for the first time opens the cleansed
and ventilated Adelphi. The theme, however, is too
-serious to be lightly touched upon. Let us address
ourselves to it—for Punch, hear it ye green-rooms !
purposes to be critical this season—with respectful
gravity.

An entirely new portico, under the conscientious
direction of Mr. Bunn, has been given to Drury Lane.
We present the reader with a faithful representation
of the architectural novelty. Shakspere has been
removed. We have Alfred Bunn, vice William
Shakspere, promoted to Sadler's Wells. This is only
as it should be. We have, however, one fault to find
with the Bunn statue—it is all white plaster. Now,
when we remember those ebon velvet breeches, we
would have had, at least, half of Bunn, like the Prince
in the fairy tale, of black marble. However, let us
not be fastidious. The dancing figures are very taste-
fully disposed, and touchingly insinuate what support
the manager expects from ballet.

In music, Mr. Bunn will be powerful as Amphion
and like him, will, we trust, make houses by the magic
of cat-gut. Some of the singers engaged are of bril-
liant reputation. We have Duprez, Anna Thillon,
Homer, and the cordial and melodious Rainforth.

There are, however, two timid neophytes, of whom
music-masters speak highly, and for whom—upon our
bended knee—we pray for a fostering indulgence. We
allude to a Mr. John Harley, advertised as buffo !
He is, we believe, not wholly new to the stage, and
has a voice of extraordinary compass, reaching we
know not to how many notes, a week. During the
recess, he has been wholly fed upon the eggs of night-
ingales and lark-pudding. Therefore, what he will do
as a buffo, nobody can tell!

The second vocalist—he has not yet been announced
as such—is Mr. John Cooper, who, one morning, in
the intervals of ■having, discovered that he had a very
promising baritone 1 This latent faculty has been
most delicately cultivated, and promises to come up
Tery strong in the spring. That the new-found trea-
sure may not be injured, a Doctor of Music is in
constant attendance upon Mr. Cooper ; not per-
mitting him to run the slightest risk of draught.
Kay, he is even not allowed to sit upon any chair,
unless duly aired.

'T \\\~

Mr. Bunn has, for what he purposes to do, an ex-
cellent company, and we heartily wish him all success.
Whilst the drama was bound hand and foot in the two
patent theatres, we fought lustily against the injus-
tice ; but now, that Shakspere may, without let or
hindrance, wander to Islington—nay, poor fellow!
whilst he is even permitted to be worried at the Vic-
toria—we have only to commend Mr. Bunn or any
other manager who offers the town such entertainment
as the programme for the season promises. There-
fore, may good-luck rosin his bow, and—strike np
fiddlers !

The Haymarket throws open its doors to comedy
and farce, and has a company to do them justice.
Vanbrugh, with his silver-lace newly cleaned, has
already made his bow. At this time, especially, we
welcome these revivals. Audiences, nay Haymarket
audiences, have had in their time so many pieces with-
out either characters or w^ords, that it is well they
should now and then go to school to the old masters.
However, for a time let Thalia tear her hair, and chant
a dirge—for Nisbett, she of the melodious laugh—is
married !

At the Adelphi we presume we are to have domestic
dramas, with spasms of pathos for families. Madame
Celeste's energy will, we think, be better here than
at the Haymarket; although we know it is said,
that—

" the gods applaud
The depth, and not the tumult of the soul! "

Then, again, we have the voluminous humour of
Paul Bedford, and the rich—sometimes a little
overflowing—drollery of Mr. Wright.

For the Princess's, Mr. Maddox has secured a grove
of foreign singing-birds. James Wallacx, too, is
engaged, and will therefore vindicate the claims of
drama.

At the Lyceum, they are still putting by ingots—at
the Strand, they flourish, too — the Surrey has its
crow-ds — and at the Victoria, Miss Vincent "the
acknowledged heroine of domestic drama," writes
" very taunting letters" in the play-bills, in cham-
pionship of the injured Osbaldiston !

Novelties are, of course, in active preparation.
English dramatists have returned from Paris, and now
beset the doors of managers with their pieces from
the French. Happy the distinguished writer who gets
in precedence of his fellow-translator, for vaudeviller.
like mackerel, will not keep ! Hence, are they often
sold at a corresponding price.