“Criterion Theatre.”

The Daily Telegraph, July 28, 1892, p. 3

The manager of this theatre has taken timely thought for the country cousins who will soon be trooping to enjoy the autumnal delights of the metropolis, and last evening he produced a “musical version” of Mr. W.S. Gilbert’s “Wedding March,” itself an adaptation, as everybody knows, of “Un Chapeau de Paille d’Italie.” Few things in the dramatic past coming within the experience of the present generation are better remembered than the “Wedding March,” which, on various occasions since 1873, has set London audiences roaring with laughter, and aching with enjoyment of a broad current of absurdity which runs free and full from the rise to the fall of the curtain. It is all utter nonsense, mad mirth, and perhaps on that account meets with a welcome even from the gravest of those whom the promise of laughter attracts. This time, we need scarcely say, Mr. Gilbert has overhauled the diverting play, and supplied it with lyrics such as he only seems able to write—some of them being among his very best, as, for example, that in which General Bunthunder, taking a foot-bath, sings:

As adapted for music, the piece is not less mirth-provoking than as a farce. The fun runs on fast and furious, with extravagances tripping up each other’s heels, and leading to the complicated laughter which comes of answering to a new appeal before finishing with the old. A better performance than that of last night was certainly conceivable. The more absurd the fooling the more capable and clever should be those who undertake it. But all engaged upon “Haste to the Wedding,” as the new version is called, are entitled to plead that they worked hard, though their zeal was not in every case according to knowledge. Mr. Lionel Brough may, indeed, be said to have laboured with greater earnestness than was quite needful, being under an impression, apparently, that the peculiar humour of Maguire, the market gardener, connected him somehow with Stentor. There was, however, much to praise—the vivacious acting and singing of Mr. Frank Wyatt, as Woodpecker Tapping; the very admirable character sketch, by Mr. D. S. James, of the Duke of Turniptopshire; the genuine humour of Mr. Sidney Valentine, as General Bunthunder; and Miss Sybil Carlyle’s clever impersonation of Bella Crackinthorpe [sic], the milliner. In a little while, we may suppose the rougher features of the representation will wear down. That change effected, the public can laugh at “Haste to the Wedding” without a mental reservation.

The interest which attended the performance arose in part from the appearance of Mr. George Grossmith as a dramatic composer and conductor. It is rather unfortunate for persons who devote themselves to making the public laugh that they are seldom taken seriously, and it is just possible that among last evening’s audience there were some who regarded Mr. Grossmith’s début in his double capacity as part of the humour of the occasion. We, of course, know better. The eminent entertainer made a serious double effort, upon the result of which we regret our inability to congratulate him. As an old hand at the inditing of melodies for comic songs, it goes without saying that his tunes lilted along with ease and fluency, but something more is required even in setting music to a farcical absurdity, and that something more Mr. Grossmith clearly does not possess, or “Haste to the Wedding” would have a better prelude than the feeble piece which now introduces it. The composer would certainly benefit, as it seems to us, by a course of study in orchestration and the connection of musical thought. He is, however, kept in countenance by the very common practice nowadays of producing first and studying afterwards, if at all.

Transcribed by Arthur Robinson

Page modified 27 December 2020