On Wednesday, M Chopin, the great French pianist, gave a matinee musical in the Merchants’ Hall, under the patronage of the most distinguished ladies of the nobility and gentry of the West of Scotland. At half-past two PM when the concert was to commence, a large concourse of carriages began to draw up in Hutcheson Street and the streets adjoining. The audience, which was not large, was exceedingly distinguished.

Of M. Chopin’s performances, and of the style of his compositions, it is not easy to speak so as to be intelligible to unscientific musicians. His style is unique, and his compositions are very frequently unintelligible from the strange and novel harmonies he introduces. In the pieces he gave on Wednesday, we were particularly struck with the eccentric and original manner in which he chose to adorn the subject. He frequently took for a theme a few notes which were little else than the common notes of the scale. Those who were present at the entertainment would observe this in the Nocturnes et Bercruse (spelling is my fault there…) This simple theme ran through the whole piece, and he heaped on it the strangest series of harmonies, discords, and modulations that can well be imagined. Again, in another subject, one single note of the key was heard with its monotonous pulsations moving through just as peculiar a series of musical embellishments. One thing must have been apparent to every one of the audience, namely, the melancholy and plaintive sentiment which pervaded his music. Indeed, if we would chose to characterise his pieces in three words, we would call them novel, pathetic, and difficult to be understood. M. Chopin is evidently a man of weak constitution, and seems labouring under physical debility and ill health. Perhaps his constitutional delicacy may account for the fact that his musical compositions have all that melancholy sentiment which we have spoken of. We incline to the belief that this master’s compositions will always have a far greater charm when heard en famille, than in the concert-room; at the same time we know that they possess certain technical peculiarities, which must render them sealed treasures to by far the greatest number of amateur piano-forte performers.

Madame Adelasio, who sang three pleasing little vocal compositions – one by Niedermeyer and two by Gugliaimo- showed much vocal ability. But she evinced a certain lack of enthusiasm, with which we were not at all charmed. This was her first public appearance in Glasgow, probably, and we believe, she will gain in public (hard to read the next bit…) admiration the oftener she is heard???

Ref: Glasgow Herald (Page 2, bottom of Column 4) https://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=GGgVawPscysC&dat=18480929&printsec=frontpage&hl=en