RECOLLECTIONS of LABLACHE.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 53, 27 January 1872, Page 3

RECOLLECTIONS of LABLACHE.

(From Tinsley's Magazine.)

The year 1830 must ever be remembered as having witnessed the debut of the greatest basso profondo the musical world has ever known—Lablache—who, on the 30th of April, was heard for the first time in this country, in Cimarosa's splendid opera, "111 Matrimonia Segreto," the part of Geronimo having, as a matter of course, been assigned to him. The fame of his voice had previously reached England, and his character as an actor had been quite as loudly proclaimed. So high a reputation is not frequently maintained ; but in this instance not one half enough had been told of the genius of this truly great and eminent man. Lablache made an immense hit in this opera, and in not the slightest respect fell short of the anticipations that had been raised respecting him. His triumph was complete. Indeed, he could not possibly have selected a better part to show off the pre-eminent qualities he possessed, both as an actor and a singer. His voice was of considerable compass, and its weight exceeded anything ever heard from a human chest. When put forth to its full power and extent, it not only overwhelmed every other upon the stage and resounded above the loudest orchestration, but entered into the most successful competition with the most sonorous instruments. This stentorian strength and gigantic power he, however, used with the utmost discretion, only now and then displaying it, and then most justifiable. Its quality was superb. So round, clear and sympathetic was every note, that if he had only sung his scales—which he could do most perfectly—it would have produced the utmost gratification. It also blended well with other voices. INothing could exceed the accuracy of his intonation, a quality that can never be too highly valued, while his steadiness indicated the superiority of his musical training. His style was of the purest —a model, in fact, of excellence, good taste, and feeling. As a comic actor, he was equal —indeed, I might truthfully say superior—to what Ambrogetti was before he degenerated into coarseness, and superior to everyone besides that had

ever appeared on the boards of his Majesty's Theatre. The character he had to represent was always uppermost in his mind; to every minutiae he paid the utmost attention. Thus, for example, his Geranimo—the character in which he debuted—was the dull, deaf, coarse, and ambitious parvenu from the very first moment to the last. He never seemed to be aware of the existence of such a person as Lablache, or of the presence of a large audience. He was the rich, vulgar merchant, seeking an alliance with a foreign nobleman, and sacrificing his daughter in order to gratify his stupid, selfish pride.