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CHAPTER X. OPERA BUFFA.
ОглавлениеOPERA BUFFA was a gradual outgrowth from the opera seria, in which originally comic characters took part in burlesque scenes. Even so late as 1718, when Scarlatti's "Telemacco" was produced, there were scenes of coarse humour between Tersite and Silvina in this otherwise conventionally correct opera. 1 When, however, the discrepancy between these and the dignity and purity of the opera seria came to be fully felt, the comic scenes were detached, generally without much difficulty, and given as independent additions, between the acts. 2 It had long been the custom to interpose between the acts of the spoken drama—tragedies as well as comedies—musical representations which had no connection with the piece itself, and were called intermedi or intermezzi, and in the opera both the comic scenes and the ballets were gradually loosed from their connection with the main body of the work and placed between the acts. The relish of the audience for these comic interludes soon led to the production of independent comic pieces called intermezzi, which took the place of the disjointed scenes from the opera. As a rule there were but two characters, one male and one female, and there was no continuous plot even when the same characters appeared in the different intermezzi. The dialogue was carried on in plain recitative, and there were neither solo songs nor duets to interfere with the main opera. In the intermezzi which Metastasio himself composed for his "Didone Abbandonata" in 1724, the characters are Ribbio, a poet, composer, singer, and impresario, who is desirous of establishing a theatre on the Canary Islands, and Dorina, the prima donna whom he wishes to engage; after many affectations she sings a song before him, whereupon he produces others, of his own composition, and they vie with each other in mutual compliments. In the second intermezzo Dorina, dressed for the stage, displays her tragic powers to Ribbio as Cleopatra; finally they conclude a romantic contract, which includes a prospect of tender relations between the two.
Great effect was caused by the caricaturing and ridiculing of the opera seria, and by the exposure of the personal relations of stage heroes and heroines; elements which have always played a great part in opera buffa.
The intermezzo gives, as it were, the back view of the opera seria, not with the intention of destroying the ideal effect by sarcastic criticism, but rather in order to heighten it by force of contrast. Even the independent opera buffa preserved much of this parodying reference to the opera seria.
Pergolese's "Serva Padrona" which was first produced in Naples in 1730, was another example of an intermezzo for two characters; it met with great success not only in Italy, but in France 3 and Germany, 4 and set the fashion for similar pieces. Very soon an intrigue was introduced, a connected plot was supplied, and the number of characters increased first to three, then to four. 5 The development of the intermezzo was rapid, and before long the inconvenience of carrying on two independent dramas simultaneously caused the complete emancipation of opera buffa from opera seria. 6 Equal rank with the latter it never attained. It came to maturity on the boards of the smaller theatres ("teatrini"), and was long in gaining admission into the larger theatres. Even then it was only exceptionally introduced during the season or stagione, side by side with the opera seria, although in the German court theatres an opera seria and a buffa were not seldom played alternately during the carnival. In Italy comic operas were only admitted in summer, and at those times when there was no grand opera. They did not pass for exhibitions of perfect vocal art, and fewer calls were made on the powers of the singers apart from their comic talent in delivery and action. There is no doubt that this external subordination was of inestimable value to the development of the opera buffa.
It received a firm foundation of musical configuration—recitative, aria, ensemble—without the necessity of submitting to limitations and laws so fixed as to have become absolute. The bass voice, which was considered most suitable to comic characters, and had already been appropriated to them in the old opera, was made the chief vehicle for comic effects in the intermezzo. Volubility of utterance, mimicry, and comic action were as necessary as a fine voice. The highly paid male soprano might therefore be dispensed with in opera buffa; the unnatural conventionality of the opera seria would have been insupportable in representations of daily life. By this means the voices were brought into their proper relations; the lover's part was allotted to the tenor, and the performance generally gained in variety and in the natural grouping of the parts.
The distinction of primary and secondary parts was disregarded, as well as the limitation to a small number of vocalists; though these seldom went beyond seven. 7 There were usually three female parts; the most decidedly comic was the sly, pert waiting-maid (a standing figure of the opera buffa), or a scolding old woman, an unsophisticated peasant-girl, &c.
The tenor part was usually the sentimental, unhappy lover, and required most from the singer, but there were often two tenor parts, in which case one was comic; the buffo tenor was not however nearly so well defined a part as the buffo bass. The bass parts were decidedly comic; a blustering old man and a cunning or a stupid servant were seldom wanting. When the lover was a bass, he was either jovial or comical.
In spite of all this freedom, certain typical features were formed that recur in all the varieties of grouping and disguise. The opera buffa was far from adopting in dialect or costume the well-defined character, of the Italian popular comedy, but the resemblance in form is unmistakable. It was in imitation of the popular plays that the comic parts were made caricatures, the effect of which depended on striking but exaggerated peculiarities. The music was made to display these, 8 and there can be no doubt that the want of individual character in the opera seria favoured the passage to the opposite extreme in the opera buffa. As a relief to the caricatures, mezzo carattere were invented, in which the purely musical element was more pronounced.
Intermezzi required an easy and loosely connected plot; the popular jokes would not have come out so well from a studied, well-connected drama, as from effective situations where favourite characters could follow their bent. If the situations were of ample variety, lively and humorous in their rendering, the audience was quite ready to forget how weak the thread was which held them together. The opera buffa was always written for a specified company, and the poet, limited both as to characters and effective situations, found his labour simplified by such a skilful use of the conditions ready to hand as should secure him applause and success. 9 Opera buffa, being held in little esteem, was seldom taken in hand by poets of note; even Goldoni's texts are, as he acknowledges himself, 10 unworthy of esteem. Goethe, 11 when he was studying the comic opera in Rome with the composer Kayser, remarked, that "there were a hundred things to be observed, to which the Italians sacrificed the spirit of the poetry; for instance, each character was to be brought forward in a certain order and a certain degree—each singer must have pauses, &C." 12 His own experience gave him a very just judgment on opera texts, and he rightly ascribed a certain amount of simplicity, which, apart from the music, made them appear poor and meagre, to a tendency to treat the subject fancifully, like a child's fairy story. 13 But the majority of comic libretti are disconnected and absurd, without spirit or delicacy, depending entirely on the effect of humorous exaggeration; and the universal opinion was a just one, that the words of the comic opera were as poor as the music was charming. 14
The musical forms of the opera seria were modified and remodelled by the comic composers with very unequal skill and success. The recitative needed little transformation; the more trivial treatment of the dialogue suggested itself, and the accompanied recitative was only varied to suit the comic situations. The aria, on the contrary, belonged essentially to musical art, and had been developed at the cost of dramatic truth; opera buffa did not concern itself with either of these facts. It adopted the forms of the opera seria (unless when it parodied them) only in the parts di mezzo car ottere which it had appropriated from the opera seria.
The contrasting of different motifs was preserved as an essential condition of musical composition, but the rules as to method and succession were no longer regarded as binding. The subjects were more slender and fugitive, so as to be more easily united, and they profited thereby in freedom of movement and form. In many airs which have only one tempo, the constituent parts of the original aria can be clearly recognised, but the subjects are arranged and repeated according to circumstances, the subordinate subjects are more important and longer, and the means at command are more freely used. Piccinni was the first to introduce the rondo form, which repeats the main subject several times with freely treated intermediate movements. It met with great applause, and was variously developed, being at last adopted in opera seria. 15 But the simpler form of the cavatina was more usual, and received many modifications; the ballad style was also not infrequent.
This freedom and many-sidedness of treatment was more especially favourable to the dramatic aspect of the piece, and brought the plot into closer relationship with the music, particularly in the ensembles. Duets, terzets, and quartets were introduced wherever the situation required, and this musical dramatic character reached its highest point in the finales, which are true musical representations of a dramatic climax ascending to a catastrophe. These finales, products of the continual struggle to render music not the ornament but the helpmeet of the drama, are the property of the opera buffa.
Nic. Logroscini, who was considered as the inventor of comic opera, and the deity of the genre bouffon, 16 is said to have written the first finale, the main subject of which was developed in one continuous movement. Nic. Piccinni (whose "Buona Figliuola" was so well received in Rome in 1761, that it may serve as a date for the recognition of opera buffa as a distinct branch of the art) treated each scena of the finale as a separate movement, and displayed far greater variety and more effective working-up.
Many of the deficiencies of the text must have had considerable influence on the music. The latter was constantly striving after dramatic effect and characteristic situations, and was as constantly dragged back by caricature and absurdity. The custom also arose of providing unworthy comic effects for the buffo characters, such as the mimicry of natural sounds, quick speaking, and others that have become gradually extinct. On this point the severe mentorship of the opera seria exerted a wholesome influence in preventing the complete sacrifice of form to fun; so that, to the observer of the present day, regularity of form is more observable in comic opera than freedom of treatment.
From opera seria too the comic opera received its main principle, viz.: that the essence of the opera is in music, and more especially in song, on the suitable treatment of which it depends for all its effect.
The majority of dramatic composers have tried their hand at opera buffa; besides Nic. Logroscini (17 … −1763), Bald. Galuppi (1703–1765), Nic. Piccinni (1728–1800), we may particularly note Pietro Guglielmi (1727–1804), Pasq. Anfossi (1736–1797), Giov. Paisiello (1741–1816), Domen. Cimarosa (1754–1801), all men of prominent parts and thorough musical training. Add to this the innate love of the Italians for beauty of form, and it will be easily comprehensible that in spite of many excrescences opera buffa should have blossomed into a musical art, which in creative genius and intellectual power soared far higher than its elder sister, whom it soon surpassed in the favour of the public. 17
The greater freedom of style was of advantage also to the instrumental parts, which took an independent share in the characterisation. Many situations were heightened by the orchestra coming to the foreground—as for instance during the frequently recurring parlando where it falls to the instruments to give the clue to the intended expression.
The instrumental scores which Piccinni was blamed for overloading and making unnecessarily prominent appear to us indescribably poverty-stricken. 18 But it was thus that the orchestra gradually developed into such an independence as makes it capable of following the rapid emotions of the actors, and of serving at the same time as a firm foundation for the whole artistic organism.
The overture in three movements was not the only one permissible; symphonies in two parts were frequent, as also a somewhat more elaborate allegro movement, which served as an instrumental introduction.
Anfossi's "Finta Giardiniera" had met with great success in Rome in 1774, whilst Piccinni's opera was hissed off the stage. In spite of its miserable text it was produced in 1775 at Vienna, 19 and in 1778 at Paris; 20 and at Munich Mozart received the libretto to compose for the Carnival of 1775—
The dramatis persona are as follows:—[See Page Image]
The Marchesa Violante Onesti has been wounded by her lover Conte Belfiore in a fit of jealousy, and he, believing that he has slain her, flees. She sets forth in disguise to seek him, accompanied by a faithful servant, Roberto; they both enter the service of Don Anchise, Podestà of Lagonero, as gardeners, she under the name of Sandrina and he as Nardo. The Podestà falls in love with Sandrina and neglects for her the waiting-maid Serpetta, to whom he has been paying his addresses. Nardo strives in vain for Serpetta's favour; the two intruders are equally obnoxious to her. Ramiro, Don Anchise's guest, and the accepted lover of his niece Arminda, is deserted by the latter, who becomes affianced to Belfiore.
At the opening of the opera the inhabitants of Lagonero are busily employed decorating the garden for the reception of the betrothed couple; Ramiro informs the Podestà that an unhappy love torments him, and departs. The Podestà sends Nardo and Serpetta to a distance, in order that he may declare his love to Sandrina; this she seeks to evade, while Serpetta continually contrives to interrupt them, so giving occasion for a comic aria from the Podestà. Thereupon Sandrina announces to Nardo her intention of leaving the place to escape the attentions of the Podestà, and complains of the faithlessness of men; Ramiro entering, bewails the inconstancy of women, and Nardo the cruelty of Serpetta. Arminda, who has just arrived, behaves whimsically to the Podestà and Serpetta; Conte Belfiore enters, greets her as his bride, and comports himself like a vain affected fop, boasting to the Podestà of his nobility, his wealth, his good looks, his conquests, and his love for Arminda.
Serpetta and Nardo having quarrelled, we next find Sandrina busy in the garden. Arminda informs her that she is about to wed Conte Belfiore; upon which Sandrina swoons. Arminda calls Belfiore, and leaves the unconscious Sandrina to his care while she runs for her smell-ing-bottle; when she returns Ramiro enters, and the four lovers recognise each other in extreme confusion; the Podestà, entering, seeks in vain for a solution of the mystery; they all go out, and leave him alone. Before he can recover from his astonishment, Serpetta, to excite his jealousy, relates that she has seen Belfiore and Sandrina holding tender intercourse, and he withdraws in order to watch them. Belfiore tries to extort from Sandrina the confession that she is Violante; at first she denies it, but then forgets herself and reproaches him for his infidelity. As he falls repentant at her feet, Arminda enters with Ramiro, all the rest rush in, overwhelm him and Sandrina with reproaches, and the act closes amid universal confusion.
The second act opens with Ramiro reproaching Arminda for her inconstancy, while she does the same to Belfiore; then Serpetta makes fun of Nardo. Sandrina, who, in her own despite, still loves Belfiore, is surprised by him in the garden, forgets herself again, and overwhelms him with reproaches; when he remorsefully sues for her love again, she recollects herself, and explains that she has known Violante, and has only been giving expression to her feelings. Quite confused, he makes her tender excuses, and tries to kiss her hand, but seizes instead that of the Podestà, who has drawn near unobserved, and goes out confounded.
The Podestà first reproaches Sandrina, then makes her a formal declaration of love, which she seeks in vain to evade. Ramiro enters with a letter, wherein Belfiore is denounced as the murderer of the Marchesa Onesti, and requires the Podestà to institute a formal inquiry; to Arminda's disgust the Podestà declares the marriage postponed, and Ramiro is filled with fresh hope. The Podestà interrogates Belfiore, who, in spite of the whispered hints of Arminda and Serpetta, becomes confused, and draws great suspicion on himself; then Sandrina appears, and explains that she is the Marchesa Violante who was wounded, not killed; they do not believe her, and treat her with contempt. When she is alone with Belfiore, and he in delight renews his expressions of love, she tells him she is not Violante, but has only impersonated her to save him. Amazed and horrified, he loses his senses and begins to rave, but soon comes to himself.
Serpetta informs the Podestà and Ramiro that Sandrina has fled, but when they have hurried forth to seek her, betrays to the listening Nardo that Arminda has had her rival conveyed to a hiding-place in the neighbouring wood, in order to prevent any interference with her union to Belfiore.
Next we see Sandrina left alone in darkness, want, and despair; in quick succession there enter Belfiore led by Nardo, the Podestà seeking Sandrina, and Arminda and Serpetta to make sure that she is secure; in the darkness the Podestà declares himself to Arminda, and Belfiore to Serpetta, both believing that they are addressing Sandrina, to the delight of Nardo, who now enters, followed by Ramiro with torches, calling upon Belfiore to renounce the hand of Arminda. When the party recognise each other there is first great consternation; then all break into abuse and reproaches; Sandrina comes to an understanding with Belfiore, they both imagine themselves shepherds, and amid the universal hubbub sing pastoral ditties; then she enacts Medusa, he Hercules, and at last they dance with delight, while the others are beside themselves with anger and astonishment.
In the third act, Nardo is again scorned by Serpetta, then Belfiore and Sandrina attack him, making passionate love to him in their madness, and he escapes with difficulty. The Podestà is beset by Serpetta, whom he repulses, by Arminda, who wants to wed Belfiore, and by Ramiro, who demands Arminda's hand, though she again declares that she detests him.
Belfiore and Sandrina having fallen asleep in the garden, awake to soft music, cured of their madness; they recognise each other, and after some resistance she listens to his suit. Upon this Arminda resolves to bestow her hand on Ramiro, and Serpetta on Nardo, and only the Podestà remains unmated.
It was no easy task even to follow these clumsily connected situations, too incoherent to be called a plot; and it would have taxed the efforts of any composer to save such a work from utter oblivion.
Only the second and third acts of Mozart's original score (196 K.) are preserved, in two volumes, containing together 344 pages; the first is lost, and there is no known copy of the Italian score, so that the recitatives of the first act are unknown.
The opera was later produced in German; the German text is inserted in the original score by L. Mozart, with trifling alterations of a note here and there to suit the declamation. Besides these there are numerous abbreviations, both in the recitatives and in some of the songs (13, 17, 19, 25), which were made for the first performance at Munich, and indicated by rough chalk strokes and erasures; with the same end, Mozart recomposed the whole of an abridged scene.
The abridged songs are adopted in the German version, but one air (20), which was marked in chalk "to be omitted," is retained. That Wolfgang was himself concerned in this adaptation is proved by the fact that on certain pages the accompanied recitatives which were retained in the German opera are rewritten in his own hand. Spoken dialogue takes the place of the plain recitatives, and the German cues are inserted by a third hand. In Rei-chardt's "Theaterkalender," the operetta, "Das verstellte Gartner-Madchen" has been included among Mozart's works since 1781, and it was performed under this title at Frankfort in 1789. Mozart probably undertook the adaptation after his return from Paris to Salzburg, when he busied himself with the improvement of German opera. The translation may safely be ascribed to Schachtner. The score is preserved in duplicate; and a selection of the songs was printed by André under the title "Die Gärtnerin aus Liebe." 21
This opera takes an unquestionably higher rank both as to originality, technical skill, and vivid characterisation than any that had preceded it. The seven personages, all drawn in firm outline with a sure hand, are not all comic characters.
The part of Ramiro is avowedly written for a male soprano, probably for the celebrated Tomm. Consoli (b. 1753), who entered the Munich Kapelle in 1744, and was summoned to Salzburg for the approaching festival performance. The part is throughout a serious one; Ramiro is the sentimental unfortunate lover, who only becomes comic by his alternate hopes and fears, as, true to his first inclinations, he opposes Arminda's jealous resentment.
In his first unimpassioned song (2) he declares that, being scarcely healed from his first unhappy attachment, he recoils from all fresh enticements; he has not yet seen his faithless beloved again, the sight of whom afterwards causes him to forget all in the desire to win her. The cavatina (18) renders the sentiment of true and hopeful love simply and tenderly. Finally, resentment against his faithless mistress is expressed in an agitated air (21) with strongly accentuated declamation and rapid changes of harmony. All three songs render consistently the exalted mood of a man of sentiment, whose passions, nevertheless, are not consumed by their own intensity; the individuality of the singer may doubtless have lent itself to this treatment of the part. This individuality is also evident in the fact that Ramiro's songs pay chief regard to the singer in the passages, and adhere closely to the older forms. But there is unmistakable progress in the richer and freer grouping of the subjects, and in the delicate feeling with which the digression in the middle movement is treated, and gradually led back to the main subject.
Arminda stands next to Ramiro. As an imperious, passionate girl, who ill-uses her faithful lover, and runs after another man, she is more repulsive than comic. Musical characterisation, by giving to her violence an air of pettishness, has introduced a comic element into her first air (7) which brings the noble lady very near the soubrette. The air (13) in which she threatens the Count with vengeance for his inconstancy has a caricatured expression of the pathetic, which parodies the manner of the opera seria, and might, therefore, produce a comic effect. The absence of all bravura in this part, in spite of the style of the songs, which seems to call for it, was no doubt to suit the particular singer—a seconda donna.
The part of Sandrina was expressly written for Rosa Manservisi, who was highly thought of, both as a singer and an actress. 22 It is comic neither in intention nor fact. An unhappy woman, of deep and delicate feelings, injured and deceived, is forced by adverse fate to dissimulate; the difficulties into which she is led by her disguise are not ludicrous, but painful, and excite only sympathy. It was common at the time to introduce persons and situations of a sentimental character into opera buffa, without any regard to the incongruity of different styles. 23 The principal scena given to Sandrina at the close of the second act quite oversteps the boundary of opera buffa. Left deserted in the dark and gloomy forest, she gives vent to her despair in a song (21), which strikingly expresses the breathless anguish of a tender, timid maiden, in the face of unknown dangers.
A characteristic passage for the violins—[See Page Image]
the agitated nature of which is increased by syncopated notes in the accompaniment, and by the strong accent thrown on the last fourth of every bar—goes through the whole movement of the allegro agitato in varied modulation; the voice comes in with detached exclamations, and once a melodious phrase silences the accompaniment for a moment, until the orchestra again takes up its restless movement. The song passes immediately into an expressive accompanied recitative, in which Sandrina becomes calmer, and assures herself, by looking round, of her forsaken condition. This is followed by the cavatina (22)—
Ah dal pianto, dal singhiozzo
Respirar io posso appena,
Non ho voce, non ho lena,
L' alma in sen mancando và—
which carries the expression of long-restrained feeling to its highest point. Throughout a restless, hurrying Allegro agitato (6–8) the voice has almost always interrupted passages, and seldom tries its powers in a sustained note or a melodious phrase. The orchestra remains in continual motion; at first a tender violin passage is introduced, then the oboes and bassoons alternate with each other, and with the voice. The whole is a single continuous thread of lovely melody and richly varied harmony, with one fundamental idea as its starting-point, and upon it rests the magic of grace and beauty. To the expression of excited passion follows that of resignation; both are manifestations of a nature tender and noble indeed, but neither grand nor strong.
Mozart's correct judgment led him to moderate the expression of passion in Sandrina to a degree befitting the heroine of a comic opera, while giving due prominence to her dignity and grace when she appears as the gardener's girl. She displays her true self most unreservedly in the cavatina (11) in which she bewails her unhappy love:—
Geme la tortorella
Lungi dalla compagna,
Del suo destin si lagna
E par, che in sua favella
Vogli destar pietà.
Io son la tortorella, &c.
Sonnleithner has noted the happy effect produced by the entrance of the voice, not at the beginning of the theme, but a little behind it, as if roused from abstraction:—
{"LÀ FINTA GIARDINIERA"—BELFIORE.}
[See Page Image] A gentle spirit, not altogether lost in sadness, yet not able entirely to throw it off, is in Sandrina united to tender womanly grace, and both find due expression in the music. Even when she plays the gardener's girl, she does it with pleasant mirth never sinking to vulgarity. The air (4) in which she undertakes the defence of women against men to Ramiro (a rondo with a lively coda, 6–8), is gay and sparkling, but not very pronounced in tone.
When she seeks by her cajoleries to appease the sulky Podestà without exactly telling him that she loves him, she reveals a certain amount of coquetry, and in her exaggerated expressions of dismay at his reproaches, approaches the buffo character; but even here the moderation, delicacy, and grace of Sandrina's character is in strong contrast to that of Serpetta.
Both the comic and the pathetic aspects are combined in the Contino Belfiore, whose burlesque character appears to have been excellently represented by the buffo Rossi. His attempt on Violante's life sets him before us as a man of passion; the wavering of his inclinations between Arminda and Violante is the less comical, since he expresses his admiration of Arminda's beauty with simple and manly dignity (6), but gives vent to his love for Sandrina, whom he recognises as Violante, in a fine outburst of true emotion. The conclusion of this song (15), being buffo in character, readjusts the situation. He has not remarked that Sandrina has gone out, and the Podestà taken her place, and he seizes the hand of the Podestà to kiss it; his confusion and annoyance required comic expression. He takes part elsewhere in comic scenes and situations; but his first appearance as a vain, supercilious coxcomb is misleading and inconsistent, and only intended to give occasion for a grand buffo air (8). The pride and loquacity with which Belfiore details his genealogy are wittily rendered by Mozart; but as a buffo song this evident concession to the taste of the singer and the public is without marked individuality. Still less happy is the idea of making the Contino, and afterwards Sandrina, go crazy. Madness is only representable in music in so far as sympathy with it as a misfortune can be aroused, which deprives it of any comic effect; the absurdities which excite to laughter cannot be rendered musically, and only in rare cases can music produce an analogous effect. In the second finale, when Sandrina and Belfiore, surrounded by bitter enemies, suddenly imagine themselves Arcadian shepherds, and sing shepherd songs, a contrast might be produced which would at least support the idea of insanity. But their mythological illusions: "Io son Medusa orribile! Io son Alcide intrepido!" could not be expressed by the music. In the terzet (24) Nardo, in order to escape the importunities of the crazy pair, points towards heaven, and tells them with increasing animation how the sun and moon quarrel, and the stars engage in love adventures; when he has set the pair gazing fixedly upwards, he makes off. Broadly represented, this gay, lively terzet must have made an effect, but it would have been equally comic had Nardo fixed their attention on anything else, since the effect depends on the vivacity and humour with which the composer grasps the situation, and withdraws the attention of the audience from the nonsense which the poet has put into the mouths of the characters.
But even this was impossible in the accompanied recitative during which Belfiore loses his senses before the eyes of the audience (19). At first, when he is beset by contending emotions, music is in its place; when he believes himself to be dead and in Elysium, Mozart has certainly constructed a characteristic, well-rounded movement, but a specific expression of the illusion it is not and cannot be. The song in which, restored to his senses, he expresses his joy at still living (in tempo di minuetto) is lively, and appeals to the senses like dance music, but after what has gone before it makes no comic impression.
The first bar of this—[See Page Image] reminds us, as Sonnleithner has remarked, both of the minuet and trio of the Symphony in D major (385 K.), and of a couple of bars in the first allegro of the Symphony in E flat major (543 K.).
The Podestà is a genuine buffo, proud, amorous, consequential in virtue of his office, easily excited, easily perplexed, but good-natured at bottom; the genuine type of a comic old man; there was probably a personal reason for making this character tenor instead of bass, though the course was not an unusual one. 24 The musical conception of the character is that of the traditional buffo. The first air (3) depicts, according to a fashion of the time, different instruments which are heard in the orchestra in a concerted accompaniment. This song has nothing in common with the situation or with the character of the Podestà, and is an interpolation for the German version.
The Italian text contains a song for Sandrina, "Dentro il mio petto io sento," which Mozart composed, as we learn from a letter of his father's (December 2, 1780), who had it copied for Schikaneder. The other two songs (17, 25) are genuine buffo—lively, rapidly uttered—a continual struggle between false dignity, anger, vexation, and perplexity.
The servants are also, according to custom, comic personages. Serpetta contrasts with Sandrina in want of refinement; disappointed in her hopes of the Podestà, she becomes envious and spiteful to every one, and especially to her lover, Nardo. Besides a neat, pretty little song, of which each character sings a verse (9), she has two songs (10, 20) of a distinctly soubrette character, gay and pleasing, not without grace, but as yet without the delicate wit with which Mozart later endowed his soubrettes.
Nardo, as the attached and faithful servant of Violante, displays an address which is inconsistent with his röle of the simple lover who pursues Serpetta in spite of all her ill-treatment. The first words of the mock-heroic air (5), "A forza di martelli il ferro si riduce," have suggested an accompaniment—[See Page Image] which gives the song a peculiarly rhythmical character. In the second air (14) the rondo form is employed with striking effect. Nardo seeks to win Serpetta's hand by compliments in different languages and styles, which form alternating interludes to the main theme; this is pretty enough, but the other jokes are obsolete.
The ensembles are of a far higher character than the solos, both as regards characterisation and musical execution.
The introduction is immediately connected with the overture, and borrows its lively chorus from the third movement, but its development is completely independent. The overture itself consists of an Allegro molto, precise in its subjects and execution, but fresh and cheerful, and of a somewhat tedious Andante grazioso.
Sandrina, Serpetta, Ramiro, the Podestà, and Nardo, are discovered in the garden, awaiting the arrival of the wedding guests, and their festive mood is expressed by a joyous choral movement. Then each character in a short soliloquy explains the position of affairs, and indicates the main elements of the plot. In these soli, which pass from one to the other in the same tempo, and without a pause, Mozart has displayed his rare power of individualisation, and without the sacrifice of interdependence in the parts of a great whole. The moonstruck Ramiro, the amorous Podestà, the excitable, prying Serpetta—each is admirably touched off, without any disregard to unity of tone. The repetition of the first chorus, with which the piece concludes, is led up to by the accompaniment, and the whole forms as complete a musical rendering of the text as was possible.
The later ensembles belong immediately to the action of the piece. At the close of the third act Sandrina and Belfiore awake from refreshing sleep healed of their madness. Belfiore seeks acceptance of Sandrina, who now acknowledges herself to be Violante, but she, abashed at his declarations of love, bids him depart, and prepares to go herself. Neither, however, can summon resolution to part, and after several attempts, they sink at last in one another's arms, forgetful of all but their newly found happiness. This situation, somewhat coarsely rendered by the poet, has been transformed by the composer into an admirable piece of character-painting (27). A long accompanied recitative passes into an elaborate and effective Adagio, in which professions of love alternate with reproaches. The Andantino (3–8), which follows is lighter in tone, and well expresses alternations of repulsion and attraction. The oboes are employed with a charming effect of longing appeal to the words: "Cont. Lei mi chiàma?—Sandrina. Signor, nö. Lei ritoma?—Cont. Oibö, oibö!" Finally, the joy of the united pair flows forth in an Allegro, which gives full opportunity for display on the part of the singers. Especially to be admired is the art with which the intense and genuine expression of emotion is tempered by the timidity of the Count and the coquetry of Sandrina, in a happy union of the pathetic and the comic which keeps the whole within the limits of' opera buffa. The rapid winding-up of the plot in the recitative dialogue, and the short animated ensemble with which the opera concludes (28) are no doubt intended not to weaken the effect of the great duet.
The finales (12, 22) of the first and second acts are masterpieces; the separate characters act and react on each other in a way which is admirably true to life. Two conditions are essential to the elevation of such pieces into musical works of art; important points in the action or the characters must be brought out by prominent motifs, and the fundamental idea of the situation must be grasped and maintained in one motif which shall serve as a clue to the whole.
The task of the musician is the combination and elaboration of the detached elements into an interdependent whole, in which the laws of musical and dramatic art are in unconscious harmony; the master makes good his claim to the title by the depth with which he grasps the idea, by the delicacy with which he apportions the claims of individuals to independence, and by the strength and truth with which he gives life to his creations. Mozart's genius amply satisfies all these conditions. When there are few characters, and they are consequently brought nearer together, the characteristics of each are sharper and more detailed; but when the relations of the characters to each other are more involved, the musical grouping becomes more careful, so that, just as in an architectural masterpiece, the parts are merged in the whole. Each motif has its own peculiar expression, but is capable of such manifold effects of light and shade, that an oft-used motif in a new combination is as effective as if it appeared for the first time.
The form and style of opera buffa are maintained in all essential points, but with great freedom of treatment. The usual means are employed of the repetition of a short phrase with increasing intensity, the parlando while the orchestra carries on the motif, the comic effect produced by rapid speaking, sudden pauses, strong contrasts, &c.; but to these are added many traits of original invention.
In the earlier operas the boy's skill in the management of accepted forms was what we had chiefly to notice; here for the first time we are amazed at the originality of his musical powers. The wealth of characteristic, well-moulded, well-rounded melodies is quite as surprising as the organic dependence in which they mutually stand related to each other, not merely joined together. This fertility is of course more prominent as the development of the plot renders the musical elements more complicated; especially admirable is Mozart's power of giving character and suggestiveness to his melodies in their first and simplest form. One subject from the last Allegro but one of the first finale—[See Page Image] will not fail to remind the reader of one almost identical from the first finale of "Figaro." But if the mode of treatment of the simple motif in the two instances be compared, it will be clearly seen that inventive power does not consist merely in the combination of notes. That of the later opera is of course by far superior, but even the earlier leaves little to wish for in its wealth of harmonic variety, in its union with other subjects, and in the effect of climax produced by imitation in the several parts.
It may finally and with justice be maintained of the melodies of this opera that they, as well as the whole intellectual conception, are high above the ordinary level; their grace, delicacy, and purity—in short, their beauty—belongs to Mozart, and to him alone.
The orchestra is treated quite otherwise than in the opera seria. The individual peculiarity of each instrument is brought out, and tone-colouring as a means of characterisation is delicately and skilfully employed. In Sandrina's cavatina (22), for instance, the fine effect of the oboe and bassoon in contrast to the violin is due to the individualities of the instruments; in Ramiro's song (18) the treatment of the bassoon is original; and in the first finale an oboe solo comes in with startling effect (the Munich oboist, Secchi, was very famous). 25 The horns are also frequently made the means of effective tone-colouring; twice (13, 26) four horns are employed in a minor key to heighten the effect of a dramatic climax. More important than these detached instances is the altered relation of the orchestra to the whole work. 26 It no longer serves as an accompaniment in the sense of sustaining the voices and filling up necessary pauses; it is no longer a mere adjunct to the vocal parts, but takes its share in the effective working of the whole, filling out details which the vocal parts leave imperfect, and obeying not so much the requirements of the vocalist as the conditions of artistic perfection. This altered relationship required an altered organisation; each component part of the orchestra must have a distinct existence, so that each, according to its place and kind, might contribute to the general effect. The single example of the treatment of the basses will serve to make this clear. Hitherto the basses had served merely as the fundamental of the melody, indispensable indeed, but often clumsy and insignificant; but here, without losing their character as the ground-work of harmonic elaboration, they have an independent movement; they serve not only to support the superincumbent mass, but their quickening power sets in motion and gives the impulse to its formation.
By the side of these many excellencies the too great length of most of the pieces, especially of the songs, is felt as a defect throughout; a defect due, no doubt, to the taste of the time and to the youth of the composer. The influence of the broader form of the opera seria, and the pleasure of the public in the mere hearing of music, were combined with the fact that Mozart was not yet capable of that self-criticism which rejects all that is superfluous, even when it is good in itself.
It may well be conceived that the opera was performed with extraordinary success in Munich (1775), and that it soon attained pre-eminence among the most admired contemporary comic operas. Nissen informs us that it made little effect in Frankfort (1789); the clumsy German adaptation may have been in part to blame for this; but the chief cause was doubtless the altered taste of the public, brought about by the French operettas and Mozart's "Entführung."