Program Notes

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)

Overture to The Marriage of Figaro (1786)

Scored for pairs of flutes, oboes clarinets, bassoons, horns and trumpets, timpani and strings

The Marriage of Figaro is one of those works that really needs little introduction. Its combination of masterfully conceived music, well-constructed drama and genuinely likable characters makes it one of the most beloved operas of all time, even by those who don't generally care for opera. The court poet Lorenzo Da Ponte masterfully crafted a magical libretto from the play by Beaumarchais, and Mozart knew he was on to a winner. His goal was not simply to write a good opera, but a great one, and with several well-received works in the genre behind him, he was in a perfect position to do just that.

The story has always been that Mozart wrote down the music as fast as librettist could get him the pages and that Mozart finished the opera in just six weeks. But in fact, Mozart took considerable pains over the score, truly the sign of great art, beginning work in September, 1785, and still tinkering with it right up until a couple of days before the premier, which took place on May 1, 1786. In hindsight, it's difficult for us to see how such a masterpiece could have been anything but a resounding triumph. But it wasn't.

Several attempts were made by Count Orsini-Rosenberg to sabotage the production. Rosenberg was a Da Ponte detractor, and wasn't that crazy about Mozart anyway, and devised some petty schemes that would sink the opera before it got off the ground. His first idea was to point out that the opera was based on a play that was banned all over Europe due to its mockery of the upper classes, but when he discovered that the Emperor was fully behind the opera's production, he quickly backed down. Next he tried to bribe certain members of the cast to sing at less than their best, but the few people he was able to get to were soon won over by the work and the performance of the principal singers. Not to be deterred, the Count next tried to put a stop to the rehearsals by self-righteous indignation over the fandango that appeared in the third act. The emperor had forbidden the use of dance in the court theatres, and Rosenberg ordered its removal. However, Da ponte had invited the emperor to the dress rehearsal, and at the point where the fandango was to take place, Joseph was perplexed by the total silence that accompanied the scene. Upon inquiry, he learned what had happened and ordered the music reinstated. As a last ditch effort, Rosenberg peppered the audience with a few hecklers who tried to create a disturbance during the first performance, but nothing really came of this either.

In the end, Rosenberg needn't have bothered. The opera didn't go over well lasting just nine performances in Vienna before being supplanted by Soler's Una cosa rara . It must have been a bitter blow to Mozart and Da Ponte, who both recognized that the work was something special. However, in December of the same year, Figaro was produced in Prague. The Bohemians must just have had a better sense of humor than the Viennese, because right from the start the opera was a smash hit. By the time Mozart arrived there right after the premier, he heard his opera's music sung and whistled in the streets, and being talked of everywhere he went.

The opera's overture, frequently making appearances in someone's concert season from a world class orchestra to a high school band, is a sparkling little gem of musical perfection. Here high comedy and light-hearted fun go hand-in-hand, and the only complaint is that it's so darn short. The strings and bassoons quietly sound out a comic monologue, continued by the winds. And when the whole orchestra suddenly belts out the punchline, it's obvious how much we're going to enjoy this. The humorous exchange continues throughout with Mozart gradually adding layer upon layer, here adding a touch of pathos, there a dash of anticipation and now a stern finger wagging. But in the end, nothing matters but the overwhelming joy and zest for life that finally brings the overture to a sublimely blissful conclusion. Look around the audience during this performance. You'll probably be hard-pressed to find someone who isn't smiling.