Mozart and the Enlightenment

My latest French course on the Enlightenment - Les Lumières - was a good reminder of how much we forget what we've learned at school. I thought I knew enough about classical music and Mozart, but I don't remember ever reading about him in the context of Enlightenment, not to mention how many other important things about that period I had forgotten. For now, let's focus on the great Wolfgang Amadeus.

Mozart’s short life span, from 1756 to 1791, unfolded during an era when the ideals of the Enlightenment - reason, liberty, equality, and justice for all - had taken root among the elites and were beginning to spread among the common people. The works of the era's great thinkers, Hobbes, Locke, Montesquieu, Rousseau, Voltaire and others, inspired new generations of writers and philosophers and sparked social movements challenging the status obtained by birth and the abuse of power.

These new revolutionary concepts influenced music and the arts as well as everyday life. Composers of the Enlightenment era - notably Gluck, Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven - rejected the heavy, complex polyphonic structure of the Baroque period (exemplified by Lully and Rameau in France) in favor of clarity, simplicity, and melodic beauty. One of the proponents of this lighter, Italian-inspired style was French philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau. His opera Le Devin du village achieved great popularity, though it also came under sharp criticism for its lack of sophistication. The simplicity of Rousseau’s work inspired young Mozart— just twelve years old at the time—to create a parody of it in his one-act opera, Bastien und Bastienne.

The child prodigy proved to be incredibly prolific. Thus, when the Viennese court commissioned an opera from him for an event hosted by the Austrian Emperor Joseph II, he was ready to venture into uncharted territory. His opera Die Entführung aus dem Serail —written in German, a language then deemed unsuitable for the operatic genre—met with great success. This triumph enabled him a few years later to propose an even bolder project: an opera in Italian based on censored French play Le Mariage de Figaro, by Beaumarchais.

Censors and the Court deemed it offensive due to its scathing critiques directed at the nobility. Despite opposition from influential factions within the Viennese court, Mozart and his Italian librettist, Lorenzo Da Ponte, managed to negotiate the approval for this project, creating Le nozze di Figaro, which to this day is regarded as one of the greatest operas ever written. It is not known which methods of persuasion they employed, but it is likely that the libretto, which features several notable departures from Beaumarchais’s original play, helped give the work the appearance of harmless entertainment. Numerous episodes and minor characters were excised, and the plot was streamlined for better clarity and coherence. However, some changes transformed the play's overt criticism of the aristocracy into a form of playful teasing that ridicules human foibles in general.

The central theme of Le nozze di Figaro is the abusive behavior of those in power toward lower classes. The main characters are servants Figaro and Susanna, who are about to get married. Their master, Count Almaviva, wishes to exercise an ancient feudal right - le droit du seigneur - to sleep with Susanna on the very night of her wedding to Figaro. The Count had, in fact, renounced the outdated practice upon his own marriage to Rosina, aiming to portray himself as an enlightened man. Yet, once married, he often exercised his "right" to sleep with young females in his employ. Unfaithful and philanderer, he is also a man consumed by pathological jealousy regarding the attentions paid to his wife by the young Cherubino. One of the most comical scenes takes place in the opera's second act: the Count visits his wife in her boudoir, at the moment she happens to be there in the company of Cherubino. Aided by Susanna, the Countess hurriedly covers Cherubino with a sheet and then locks him inside a wardrobe, while the Count grows increasingly suspicious of his wife's nervousness.

By making the servants rather than the masters the central characters of the opera, Mozart broke with a long-standing tradition in which protagonists were typically classical heroes, gods and goddesses, kings and queens, or mythological figures. In the opening scene, Figaro, Count Almaviva’s valet, measures the dimensions of his future marital bed, while his fiancée, Susanna, the countess's personal maid, puts the finishing touches on the hat she will wear later that day for their wedding. Their joyful mood turns serious when Susanna reveals to Figaro that the Count plans to seduce her before their wedding night. 

Figaro, furious to learn that his master intends to reward his loyalty with betrayal, vows to outwit him in a spirited cavatina: "Se vuoi ballare, signor contino, il chitarrino ti suonerò" ("If you want to dance, little Count, I will play the music for you"). 

Figaro brings a group of peasants before Almaviva under the pretext of praising him for abolishing the archaic droit du seigneur, but in reality, to remind him that he must keep his promise of renouncing it. The count finds an excuse to rush away. The servants, joined by the betrayed Countess, devise another stratagem to unmask Almaviva’s hypocrisy and preserve their dignity, and the Count’s perfidious plan is foiled. He receives a humiliating lesson in front of his entire staff. However, once his misdeeds are brought to light, he does not react with anger, but admits his guilt and publicly begs his wife’s forgiveness, in most productions on his knees.

A subplot in Le nozze di Figaro reveals that Figaro is the illegitimate son of Dr. Bartolo and Marcellina—a man and a woman of a higher social rank than the valet. Before learning that he was their son, the older couple had been conspiring to force him to marry the very woman who would turn out to be his mother. But once the indiscretion of their past is brought to light, the bourgeois couple sets about rectifying the errors of their youth.

The lower classes relied on ingenuity rather than confrontation to achieve justice and the upper classes acted reasonably when their sins are revealed. The peaceful resolution reflects the optimism of the Enlightenment - specifically the conviction that a just society is built upon reason, introspection, and moral reform, rather than violence. The ingenuity and moral superiority of the servants echo the ideas of Enlightenment thinkers such as Montaigne, Rousseau, Voltaire, and others, who championed meritocracy, equal rights for all, and the limitation of despotic power. Figaro’s resistance to the Count’s behavior highlights the chasm between rationality from the persistent tyranny of the upper classes. The opera’s humor subtly suggests that the old order must adapt, or suffer the consequences.

Musically, Mozart’s score also embodies Enlightenment values—reason, individual merit, emotional authenticity, and rational order emerging from confusion. One of its most striking features lies in its musical ensembles: duets, trios, and grand collectives. Thus, in the Act II finale, seven characters sing simultaneously—"Che bel colpo, che bel caso"—expressing contradictory emotions and shifting dramatic situations, ultimately resolving into a harmonious order. In the spirit of the Enlightenment, the opera’s last grandiose finale, "Ah! Tutti contenti," unites masters and servants in a song of joy and jubilation.

The complex ensembles have no direct equivalent in Beaumarchais’s work. Da Ponte’s celebrated verses for arias such as Figaro’s "Non più andrai," the Countess’s "Porgi amor," and Susanna’s "Deh vieni, non tardar" also diverge from the original French play.

First performed at Vienna’s Burgtheater in 1786, Le nozze di Figaro - an opera buffa in four acts - reflects the fundamental ideals of the 18th century: reason, the primacy of individual merit over birthright, equality, and resistance to arbitrary authority. It also pays tribute to the capabilities and intelligence of women struggling to stay afloat in a male-dominated world. Overall, the work celebrates spiritual and moral equality across genders and classes, as well as individual’s worth based on decency and strength of character.

Emperor Joseph II

In reality, things are different. Mozart’s employer, Emperor Joseph II, also considered himself an enlightened monarch. His reforms included compulsory education for boys and girls, religious tolerance, the abolition of serfdom, and a reduction in power for the Church and the nobility. There is no evidence that he ever mistreated women or servants. However, fierce resistance from the clergy and the aristocracy forced him to revoke many of his reforms before his death.

Barely three years after the premiere of Le nozze di Figaro in Vienna, France erupted in a revolution that completely overturned its social order. The Austrian Emperor died in 1790, spared from witnessing the gruesome execution of his sister, Marie Antoinette, at the hands of French revolutionaries.

Mozart died in 1791, at the age of 35. Despite his phenomenal talent and the success of his work, the celebrated musician passed away in poverty and was buried in an unmarked common grave. A court musician was little more than a servant in the employ of a wealthy patron. Joseph II may have been benevolent toward him, but a scene in Miloš Forman’s film Amadeus depicts Mozart’s previous employer, the Archbishop of Salzburg, ordering him to leave Vienna for a minor transgression. When Mozart offers to resign, the Archbishop retorts: “You will remain in my service and learn to know your place.” Whether Mozart obeyed or not, this order reveals that the Archbishop viewed him as a servant. Historic records show that the musician took his meals with the archbishop's servants.

So Mozart very likely identified with Figaro and took pleasure in employing subtle humor to satirize his master and everything else that, in his view, was wrong with his world. The opera’s success demonstrated the capacity of the arts to examine the broader repercussions of human actions and behaviors, especially the abuse of power. Thanks to its universal themes—justice, reason, peace, love, and reconciliation, Le Nozze di Figaro remains, 240 years after its premiere, one of the most performed and celebrated operas of all time.

Washington National Opera Returns to Stage With Mozart's Opera Buffa

After a two-year hiatus caused by the pandemic, the Washington National Opera has returned to the stage. It was not a spectacular opening Saturday night in the Kennedy Center's Opera House, with a grand opera and hundreds of performers, but rather a Mozart piece for six soloists and a small chorus and orchestra in a smaller hall. Così fan tutte is ranking third of the three operas Mozart wrote with Italian librettist Lorenzo Da Ponte, and many consider it no more than a fluffy comedic piece with a ridiculous plot. But there is more to this rom-com than meets the eye.

For me Così fan tutte is worth seeing for many reasons, perhaps first and foremost for its unique and unforgettable terzetto "Soave sia il vento."  My first encounter with the languidly sad melody was in the movie based on Edith Warton's book The House of Mirth. It haunted me all the way home and the next day to a music store to get the complete opera in a CD set.

The story of two pairs of naive and romantic lovers brought down to earth by their elderly friend is silly if you take it literally. Young soldiers Guglielmo and Ferrando are madly in love with sisters Fiordiligi and Dorabella respectively and are convinced of their fidelity. The elderly and experienced Don Alfonso contends that all women will succumb to flirtation if given a chance, and that Fiordiligi and Dorabella are no exception. He persuades the younger men to accept a bet, which could turn lucrative for him if he can make the girls accept new lovers within a day of their fiancés' absence. Alonso enlists the help of the girls' maid Despina to ensure his victory. According to the deal, Ferrando and Guglielmo will pretend they were called to war and will sail away on the waves of the heavenly aria "Soave sia il vento"  (let the wind be gentle), sung by Fiordiligi, Dorabella and Don Alfonso. They will then immediately return dressed as Albanians (that's the really preposterous part) and try to seduce each other's girlfriend (if you can believe that a mustache and strange clothes can make a man entirely unrecognizable). Don Alfonso triumphs with Despina's help and the lovers, now taught a lesson, reconcile.

Ferrando and Guglielmo, photo by Scott Suchman

The title Così fan tutte suggests, as Don Alfonso claims, that all women are unfaithful or prone to deceit. You could hear patrons on Saturday comment that it is "not a very feminist" opera and that it reflects the attitude of men towards women in Mozart's time. But any serious Mozart connoisseur knows that the composer had too much respect and admiration for women to portray them as weaklings. His heroines are bold, intelligent, devious and determined not to be victimized. Think of Pamina, Donna Anna, Susanna. They are manipulative if they need to be, and they teach their men a lesson. Queen of the Night is bloodthirsty in her drive for revenge against ex-husband. 

Contrary to the title, which quotes Don Alfonso, the opera makes gentle fun of human failings in general, not only women, and calls for the need to lower one's expectations from a relationship. As such, it is a good lesson to prospective couples today who plan to marry with a set of expectations from the future spouse.  

Yes, a story about couple-swapping, and women falling for ridiculous disguise and false declarations of love may seem frivolous, but it's a story that challenges traditional notions of strength of character and honor. Fiordiligi is trying very hard to deny her desires, considering them shameful, and vows to be strong "like a rock immovable against the winds and tempest ("Come scoglio"), but in the end her softer side prevails. The younger sister Dorabella doesn't even try to resist the declarations of passionate love. And what of the men? Mozart makes fun of their weaknesses too: their excessive pride, braggadocio, easily shaken trust, naïveté ... 

To make the plot more realistic, opera houses have resorted to modern adaptations with various success. The settings have been transferred from the old Naples into different places and periods, from the 1950s Coney Island to some phantasmagorical place in a future era. The last production I saw in Washington was set in contemporary America. Fiordiligi and Dorabella were admiring their boyfriend's pictures on smartphones, and their lovers returned disguised as tattooed, leather-clad and chain-adorned bikers. Instead of drinking hot chocolate from fine china, the girls sipped their lattes from plastic cups. Presented in the Kennedy Center's spacious opera house, the set seemed a little too minimalist, not to say empty. The writer of the English surtitles replaced the original lines with a few puns on local themes, which drew hearty laughs without hurting the original text, sung in Italian.

The WNO's new production was conceived much better.  First, it was placed in a smaller and more intimate Eisenhower Theater, ideal for this quasi-chamber piece.  There was no attempt to transplant the opera into a contemporary setting. The simplified decor by Erhard Rom was warm and accogliente and just ornate enough to provide the right background for the lovely period costumes, designed by Lynly Saunders. Occasionally, a drawing of the god of love with his arrow, or a couple of love birds, or some funny message popped up in the background to draw audience's laughs.   

The singers portraying the two couples were young and convincing. Soprano Laura Wilde was adequately serious and tormented as the elder sister Fiordiligi. She offered a solid rendition of her central aria "Come Scoglio" and sang beautifully throughout. Mezzo-soprano Rihab Chaieb was easily the most irresistible Dorabella I have ever seen, in both looks and voice. She was flirtatious and charming, or naive and silly as the situation required, all without exaggeration. Tenor Kang Wang stole the show for me with his radiant voice and ardent mien. I can see him rule the stage in the future when he masters more nuance to suit Ferrando's various moods. His dynamics never seemed to move more than a notch or two from the forte, and after many arias it sounded like more of the same, no matter how beautiful it was. Baritone Andrey Zhilikovsky's charmed with his warm simplicity as a friend as well as a lover. 

Don Alfonso and Despina in one of her many disguises, photo by Scott Suchman

I first saw Ana María Martínez eight years ago as Carmen in Santa Fe. She was good but not memorable, perhaps because one expected Carmen to be a mezzo. She pleasantly surprised me as the shrewd, but fun-loving maid Despina. Her comic gestures were never overdone, and she was a delight whenever she appeared on the stage.

Legendary Italian bass Ferruccio Furlanetto was a bit of a disappointment as Don Alfonso. I remember him as an impressive Philip II in Don Carlo, but in the role of Don Alfonso, other singers seem to have much more fun. Furlanetto seemed bored and his don was more of an old curmudgeon in need of funds than an elderly gentleman, seeking to help the younger generation. Even so, Furlanetto's powerful voice and presence tended to dominate the stage. 

The opera is a string of melodic arias, with their moods ranging from giddy to dramatic to serious. Most of the mood transitions take place in the second-act garden scene, when falsely ardent lovers, in this production dressed in what looked more like Indian than Albanian garb, court and win each other's fiancee. The women's defiant attitudes gradually soften, while the men become increasingly miserable as they see their loved ones fail them. The conversion takes its course and, unfortunately, sooner or later viewers reach a point of saturation despite the beauty of singing.  For many, the opera starts to drag as is obvious from how many mobile phones come out. No matter which way the work is repackaged (in some cases producers create additional background action) that scene feels too long for an average opera goer, particularly the one who is not convinced the story has any value in the first place. 

Ferrando and Fiordiligi, observed by scheming Don Alonso and miserable Guglielmo, photo by Scott Suchman

Stage director Alison Moritz has made her best effort to enliven the garden scene in the WNO production, making Dorabella bolder than usual in accepting her new lover. Moritz also tampered with the finale. I wonder if anyone else noticed or whether it was my imagination, but it seemed that once the couples swapped partners, the new pairs remained together even after the deceit had been unveiled. In other words, Fiordiligi stayed with her erstwhile sister's fiancé Ferrando, while Dorabella continued to cling to Guglielmo, formerly Fiordiligi's boyfriend. In the classic version, each returns to their original partner. Did Moritz want to simplify the confusion, or make the women appear less flighty, or did I get something wrong? 

Japanese-German Conductor Erina Yashima, currently assistant conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra, received a warm applause in her important US operatic debut.  

WNO opened this first night of its post-Covid season with the Ukrainian national anthem as has become customary for many cultural organizations worldwide.

The last performance of the new production of Così fan tutte is scheduled for March 26.

Wolf Trap's Ghosts of Versailles

One of the highlights of my summers in Washington D.C. is an annual pilgrimage to Wolf Trap for a picnic and a performance with a group of friends.  In the early years, we used to go to the Filene Center, get cheap lawn tickets and just picnic while watching the show. After several rainy experiences, we switched to in-house seats. And finally we moved from the large crowds in the Filene's to a more intimate atmosphere of the Barns at Wolf Trap.  Over the years we have come to appreciate the Wolf Trap Opera company for its innovative productions and impressive new voices and so the annual event became an opera event.  For me the company's strength is its repertoire of rarely performed works, such as Poulenc's Les mamelles de Tirésias, Britten's Midsummer Night's Dream and now Corigliano's The Ghosts of Versailles.

I've been wanting to see The Ghosts of Versailles since it premiered in New York in 1991 and feared I would never have a chance to see it in the conservative Washington.  When I learned last year that  the Los Angeles Opera was staging it, and no less than under the direction of my compatriot Darko Trešnjak (of A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder fame), I carefully studied my budget to see if I can afford a trip to LA with hotel accommodation and a ticket for the performance.

Luckily and not surprisingly, the Wolf Trap Opera came to the rescue.  And so our little group returned enthusiastically to the Barns this Sunday, to indulge in a picnic under a huge pine tree and the never-before-seen opera. After the repas, sufficiently mellowed by sangria, cold salads, Greek spinach pie, blue cheese, fruit salad and key lime pie, we were ready to take on any operatic challenge.

Wolf Trap Opera's The Ghosts of Versailles, with Beaumarchais characters on stage

Corigliano's opera is inspired by Beaumarchais's play  La mère coupable (The Guilty Mother?), but from there, the composer and his librettist William Hoffman fly off in their own multiple directions. In their story, the famed author of three Figaro plays entertains Marie-Antoinette and her jaded retinue somewhere in the other world 200 years after their deaths. Still unable to recover from the shock of her beheading, the tragic queen bemoans her destiny and claims innocence. Beaumarchais is in love with her and promises to re-write history to save her from death. In his new play, she will be abscond to England, returned to France in triumph and the history will end as it should. Through this play (an opera-within the opera) Marie-Antoinette learns about the misery of the French poor under her husband Louis XVI's rule and she comes to terms with her real-life destiny. 

To be sure, Corigliano's opera was not what I expected.  It did start with an overture that brings to mind Bela Lugosi's Dracula.  It was eerie and beautiful, and not entirely surprising. The opening scene with ghosts sitting in a theater where an orchestra enveloped in a ghostly mist played its ghostly accords also was something to be expected.  But from then on things went from silly to crazy and worse, with a melange of music styles ranging from arias and duets reminiscent of Mozart's da Ponte operas to gypsy music, and to the American musical, at which point one of the ghosts adorned with a Valkyra shield and helmet stepped in to complain: "This is not opera. Wagner is opera." 

When Turkish entertainer Samira burst onto the scene with her seductive belly dance, pulling a magician-style, never-ending scarf from her bodice, my Serbian friend leaned to me and whispered "Bosno moja!",  referring to the whining oriental melodies that were once popular in parts of former Yugoslavia.

The second act continued with offerings hinting at every possible music genre, including a scene with Marie-Antoinette in jail, looking suspiciously like Marguerite in Gounod's Faust.

The operatic journey liberates Marie-Antoinette from her death shock and as she accepts her fate, she tells Baumarchais not to change the ending because it is exactly as it should be.  The captured bird she used to sing about spreads its wings, as we learn from a huge shadow rising behind the illuminated curtain. Even though its sparse feathers make it look more like a scraggly monster than a golden bird. Marie-Antoinette walks into the sunset with her lover Beaumarchais. 

Costumes for The Ghosts of Versailles by David Woolard

I am happy to have finally seen The Ghosts of Versailles and especially that I first saw it at the Barns and not at the Met or even at the LA Opera.  Seeing it 24 years ago would likely have been a huge disappointment.  I might have expected something sophisticated like Corigliano's Clarinet Concerto, or deeply melancholic and soulful like "The  Red Violin" Concerto. But seeing this mostly fluffy concoction after a pleasant al fresco feast, in a rustic little hall at Wolf Trap was sheer pleasure.  Our little group agreed that Melinda Whittington excelled as Marie-Antoinette as did Robert Watson as the villain.  The rest of the cast was abundant with fresh and sparkling voices as most Wolf Trap operas are.  The only disappointment, although a minor one, was Morgan Pearse's Figaro.  He was merely one of the players, instead of ruling the roost, or rather the stage, with wits and antics masking a profound wisdom that gets Figaro out of every scrape. 

The Ghosts of Versailles, at times more a sit-com than an opera, turned out to be a great choice for a summer show at the Barns, one that whetted our appetite for the next season. I am sure the company won't disappoint.

While looking into Corigliano, I happened to learn that he is married to Mark Adamo, the composer of a very successful small-scale opera Little Women.  I met Adamo for an interview regarding the Washington premiere of his work whose title I can't recall.  I do not remember the year either  (perhaps 2000?), but I remember the young man in an elegant camel hair coat and black roll neck sweater, talking most seriously about his work, clearly excited that it would be presented to audiences worldwide in a VOA radio program.   

The information that Adamo and Corigliano are married makes me wonder how much two artists living together influence each other.  I could not detect any signs of Adamo in Corigliano's opus or vice-versa.  I also wonder what Adamo is doing these days.  Perhaps the Wolf Trap Opera will show us next summer.