CHAPTER THREE Act I The Subjects of lbe Opera One of the subjects of Mozart's Le nozze Je Figaro — and of Beau-marchais's play Le mariage de Figaro from which Lorenzo da Ponte drew his libretto for the opera — is class distinctions and just what they amount to. Both the play and opera seem at first to concern characters cut from the familiar stuff of comedy —a noble couple and their two resourceful servant-confidants. One expects the usual comic imbroglio and happy resolution, that neat untangling of a delightful snarl which provides so much of comedy's pleasure. The plot of the opera is all imbroglio, as anyone trying to sort out the intricacies of the fourth-act finale will testify. But in both play and opera something more significant emerges from the melee of la folie journée.' The central theme of the play could be summed up by a passage from Figaros famous diatribe against social inequities, a speech in which Napoleon is said to have found contained "all the revolution": Non, Monsieur le Comte, vous ne l'aurez pas . . . vous ne l'aurez pas. Parce que vous étes un grand Seigneur, vous vous croyez un grand génie! . . . noblesse, fortune, un rang, des places; tout cela rend si fier! Qu'avez-vous fait pour tant de biens? vous vous étes donné la peine de naítre, et rien de plus. Du reste, homme assez ordinaire!2 The sardonic and clever servant Figaro assumes the center in a political satire considered subversive enough to have been forbidden production for seven years after its composition. These words of Figaro's are not, however, to be found in the libretto 73 74 CHAPTER THREE Le nozzt <)i Figaro: Act I 75 for Mozart's opera. Lorenzo da Ponte did follow the sequence of events in Beaumarchais's play studiously, and he borrowed much of its language- Yet the nature of his cuts and changes, the matter added by Mozart's music, and the sheer difference in nature between an opera and a stage play made the tale of Figaro's marriage into a new vehicle entirely —a radiant romantic comedy. Susanna and the Countess are the characters at the opera's center; they step out from behind the mask* of comic convention, and in doing so enable some of the other characters, touched by the humanity of the two women, to undergo a similar metamorphosis. The opera concerns the two women's friendship, one based on mutual trust and affection, which has begun before the opera opens. The warmth radiating from this friendship generates in us a real concern for the various couples in their couplings and un-couplings, and raises the plot above the level of mere farce. It moves us to be genuinely happy for Marcellina's transformation, in act IV, from bluestocking harridan to beaming mother, when ordinarily we would have felt mere relief at the fortuitous resolution of a serious complication. And it makes us momentarily disappointed in Figaro, late in the day, when he fails to put his trust in the two women's grace. The opera is about this grace. There is no good reason to expect adaptors to use the material they have appropriated for the same purpose as did its originator, nor is it reasonable to judge that they have failed in proper attention to their model when differences appear. Yet it is a commonplace today to discover that Beaumarchais's sharp social criticism is present in Mozart's opera, but closely veiled because of the authors' political timidity. (Less popular, and far less defensible, is the counterview that the adaptors removed all of Beaumarchais's satire, producing a lamer, blander version of his spirited original.) An adaptor may well view his chosen subject in a very different light from that of the originator; if in the opera more general ethical concerns supplanted Beaumarchais's political satire, it may have been because da Ponte and Mozart did not consider a friendship across the classes as a subject for easy treatment, nor conceive of class barriers as readily giving way to an access of strong sentiment. Fach mans habitual world must to a great extent define him, limiting his freedom to act, and decency is not sufficient qualification for overriding those limits; even the affectionate Countess at times "remembers her place."3 The opera takes as its task not to attack the existing orders, but to expand and irradiate them. It must first establish both women in their proper worlds, and demonstrate that each of them merits the respect of her companion. It has then to find a place for their friendship to inhabit without violating either characters delicate sense of propriety. This meeting ground must be beyond class, and with its own sense of time; it may not be permanent, or even of more than one mad day's duration. It is my intent in the following pages to show how da Pontes alterations in the text of Le manage de Figaro, and the web of musical metaphors which Mozart painstakingly constructed around da Pontes text, collaborated to produce a new original — Le nozze di Figaro — a work which sheds its own singular light on the way we live. Since the events and revelations of the opera are plotted in a carefully periodic fashion, unlike, for example, the episodic improvisations of Don Giovanni, the analysis will proceed step by step through the most significant of the operas arias and ensembles. Siuanna and Figaro: The Opening Duetj After the overture — a skillful melange in D major of bustling but neutral string figurations answered by courtly horn fanfares — a drop to the subdominant (G major) introduces a more relaxed and leisurely scene. Figaro is pacing off the bridal chamber, measuring its spaces to a bourree rhythm marked by a dotted upbeat and the characteristic J . ) . bourree pattern (ex. 3-1).'' The bourree cadences on the dominant both in its condensed orchestral introduction and in the slightly expanded repetition of the first period which accompanies Figaro's first words. A curious internal organization gives the bourree phrase a flat-footed quality: its antecedent member is six measures long, its consequent only two (when four-plus-four would be the norm). The long antecedent builds up tension in the arch to the dominant, but necessitates extra repetitions of the tag end of the opening figure to fill it out. The comic lack of invention in the arch becomes even more marked in the repetition of the first period, where the antecedent phrase lasts eight measures and the entire opening figure is repeated four times. An offbeat counterpoint over the barline in the basses and bassoons enlivens the dance in both its occurrences, tugging against the beat for a "stumble-foot" effect. In its indeterminacy Figaro's bourree phrase is good opening music and good counting music, but it cannot bring the period to a close. Instead it dovetails with a neat gavotte, Susannas music in the repetition, which provides the rhythmic and harmonic definition necessary for a Example 3-1 ifuiini iH.uUiii iH.uiHi 76 CHAPTER THREE Ijt nozze Ji Figaro: Act I 7 7 Example 3-2 #Wi£jcfijiui i"Vmjmj iui cadence on the tonic (mm. 9-18, 30-36; ex. 3-2). The gavotte is typical in both rhythm and accompaniment; it has the habitual dotted upbeat figure, and is supported by an Alberti bass in the bassoons to accentuate the "beating" quality of the dance. Its line is decorated with appoggiaturas on almost every beat, an ornamentation which emphasizes the yielding, feminine aspect of the gavotte. Full orchestra accompanies the bourree, but only winds and horns the gavotte, with an occasional string flourish at cadences. This opening duet satisfies our expectations of the comic Susanna and Figaro: the swaggering, cocksure bridegroom and his pert bride-to-be celebrate their coming marriage right in character, the one surveying for the nuptial bed, the other in innocent vanity admiring her new hat. They seem a perfect pair. The very leisureliness of the opening— eight measures of bourree answered by eight of gavotte, the whole repeated with the lovers singing the melodies of their respective dance phrases — confirms the conventionality of the comedy, and nothing in the rest of the duet alters this impression. Susanna breaks into buffa patter as she urges Figaro to look at her new hat, and a change in harmony moves the piece to the second key area (mm. 42 —49).5 Susanna prevails in their game of "talking past each other," and Figaro obligingly disengages himself from his counting to join her in her gavotte for the rest of the duet. The neat gavotte phrase also provides the critical profile tor the second key area and the consolidation necessary at the return to the tonic. Taken next by Figaro solo, with the Alberti figure in the cellos and basses, it becomes the "second theme" on the dominant (mm. 49-55), and it is the sole substantive material for the return (m. 67). There it occurs in full orchestra, expanded by two measures to a full four-measure period, and harmonized by the pair in parallel thirds —the customary expression of connubial bliss. The gay triplet fanfares at the three important cadences (mm. 34-35, 53 - 54, 73-80) seem intended to confirm this assessment. Both the bourree and the gavotte, as dances of mezzo carattere, are meant to accompany "an action from ordinary life, in the character of the comic6 stage, a love affair, or any intrigue in which people from a not completely ordinary kind of life are involved"; they require "elegance, pleasant manners, and fine taste."7 Thus the dance gestures which animate the first appearances of Susanna and Figaro on the stage are fully in keeping with the social status of the couple: as servants of a Spanish count they would naturally, when alone, aspire to imitate the manners of their betters. The triplets at cadences round out the picture, supplying in the background a rustic lilt and exuberance, an echo of the rhythms conventionally appropriate for comic servants. But the mezzo carattere nature of these dance gestures also leaves open the possibility that the pair possesses a real, and not adopted, distinction, that they are by no means "ordinary people." The duet also makes references forward to significant events later in the opera. Susanna's gavotte style, for example, becomes an important element in the second-act finale.8 And the critical role which the gavotte rhythm plays in shaping this movement makes Susanna stand out a little from her mate. Although Figaro's obliging assumption of her music after her sharp "Guarda un po " ("Look here a moment" —mm. 36-49) appears to be a bridegroom's tactful attention to his demanding fiancee, the next duet suggests that Figaro is only right to follow her lead; her native wit sometimes enables her to see things more clearly than he does, and he knows it. Figaro starts the second duet with a typical contredanse figure, its four-measure phrases repeated three times with no variation. He is describing an event for which the couple's new bed-chamber is felicitously placed —the summons of the Countess's bell: Se a caso Madama La notte ti chiama: Din din, in due passi Da quella puoi gir.' When Figaro mimes Susanna's response to the bell (m. 17), Mozart transforms the lilting contredanse with its strong downbeat into a march. He inflects the new gesture ( - j must become - 6 ) by adding a marked and steady bass line and quickening the harmonic rhythm (ex. 3-3). The quickened pace of the harmony and the truncation of normal phrase length — the march contracts to an abrupt three measures after the steady fours of the contredanse — comically suggest the convenience of the proximity: Susanna can get to her mistress in due paMl, the "two-step" of the march. The march phrase also accomplishes the move to the second key area (F major; the duet is in B-flat). Once the dominant is attained, Figaro with painful literalness praises the advantages which the room's situation holds for him. Three times again the contredanse phrase is repeated (in inversion), again the bell rings, and Figaro mimes but march into the Count* chamber (back to the tonic, mm. 21-39). Susanna takes up the contredanse strain and mimics Figaro, but with heavy irony. What i( the Count should send you away, with the purpose 78 Example 3-3 CHAPTER THREE Example 3-4 a) Co ■ Si sett mat - ti - no It a - ro Con - tt- no: of securing me alone, she asks. Like Figaro she repeats the contredanse phrase three times, but with a radical change of color — a turn to G minor, which lends the requisite air of menacing import to her question (ex. 3-4a). Then, avoiding the clowning march cadence, she substitutes a recitativelike phrase back in B-flat, which moves from vi to the dominant (mm. 55-58) over the bass's sustained G (ex. 3-4b). Her omission of the march gesture underlines the seriousness of Susannas point. And her spirit further manifests itself in the first phrase of the return,10 with her angry octave leap on "Ed ecco in tre salti. . . ."" She brings Figaro to his senses. Lt nozze di Figaro: Act I 79 The first duet typed the pair of comic servants, differentiating them only as male and female. This second duet distinguishes them in a more penetrating fashion. Figaro loves to playact; he is a natural mime who can summon up vividly any imaginary situation. He will resort to mimicry frequently during the opera, often to save both their skins. Here, however, his clowning only points up Susannas deeper sensibilities. In his repetitive contredanse he slips from the elegant mezzo carattere bour-ree of the opening into a more vulgar idiom, and adds in the tactlessly graphic march of his cadences a further thoughtless touch; his playacting verges on irresponsible buffoonery. The march betrays his sense of importance at being the Count's favored servant, betrothed to the Countess's favorite; he delivers himself and Susanna to their service with a pompously ceremonial flourish. Susanna's imitation of the contredanse in minor exhibits the grace of thoughtfulness. She displays her dismay with a gentle irony, leaving the impression that she is open to a wider range of feelings than is Figaro. Although she may be proud to serve the Countess, she is disturbed to find Figaro, blinded by his pride in service, blithely serving her up to the Count as a ceremonial victim; no pride would make her serve Figaro-style. When, clearly finding the low comic march distasteful, she substitutes her pointed recitativelike phrase, all sympathies cannot help but be with her. Now the situation demands from Figaro a response which will measure up to her intelligence and wit. "Se vuol ballare": Figaro,) Dancing School Figaro does not disappoint. His conversation with Susanna after the second duet has deflated his self-esteem, and has left him very angry with the Count. When he solicitously says to Susanna, "Corragio, mio tesoro," she leaves him with a pointed "E tu, cervello,"12 pricking him with a further reminder of his fatuity. He pulls himself together to launch a venomous blast at the Count, treating the Count's proper music with an irony well matched to Susanna's dark parody of Figaro's musical invention in the second duet. He is indeed finally using his head. The cavatina opens as a minuet — not the stately theatrical type, but the muscular and spare, slightly faster quarter-note pattern more likely to have been danced on social occasions. Figaro invites the Count to dance, with himself as accompanist: Se vuol ballare, Signor Contino, II chitarrino Le suonero.13 80 CHAPTER THREE Le nozze di Figaro: Act I 81 Pizzicato strings simulate the guitar accompaniment while horn doublings underline the noble, ceremonial nature of the dance. It is a tribute to Figaro's wit and control that after his bitter recitative he sings not in unbridled anger, but ironically, cloaking his insolence in the noble politUM of the minuet. His manner of address is highly insulting— Sig-nor Contino," or "my pretty little Count" —but to the unsuspecting it might appear at first to be the unctuous invitation of a sycophant.14 As the piece moves toward the dominant,15 Figaro becomes the dancing master, the situation his dancing school: with the prey lured into the trap, the trapper can turn teacher. His anger finds expression in the orchestra now, in the menacing string tremolos and repeated notes in the horns, but Figaro himself still preserves all decorum and goes on with the dance. He offers to teach the Count the capriola, a theatrical leaping-step: Se vuol venire Nella mia scuola, La capriola Le insegnero." There may indeed be an actual choreographical cue for the capriola in the music of "Se vuol ballare," in the dramatic weak-beat melodic leaps17 of a third and a sixth occurring in the four-measure extension of the cadence of the first period (mm. 16, 18), and again, to accompany Figaro's second rendering of the capriola stanza, at the first cadences on the dominant (mm. 38, 40; ex. 3-5). In any event, the implication of Figaro's words is obvious: "If you intend to come poaching on my b s[ ground, I'll make you jump." His threat is reinforced by both a musical <*$r ant^ a ver)Jf^ Pun: 'he insistent horn calls become a leer at the hopeful ,* cuckolder^) and the nature of the capers Figaro promises to put the Count through insultingly suggests his adversary's undignified ruttish-ness (capriola, "goat-leap," is derived from the Italian capra, "goat"). Figaro has fashioned his caress-turned-insult entirely within the rhythmic framework of the minuet. Although the dance has grown beyond the eight-plus-eight-measure phrases of the usual dance tune, still the two-measure rhythmic units of the paj He menuet have been retained; all the extensions are danceable. Now for a brief moment — the X-section — Figaro steps outside the dance in order to meditate his re- Example 3-5 Example 5-6 L'ar - te 5cher-ftt