I recently read an article (can’t remember where– the Atlantic?) that described, with adoration, the conclusion of the opera “The Marriage of Figaro” by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. This article went to argue that “The Marriage of Figaro” is one of the greatest artistic achievements of Western Civilization. I decided I must see it. One must be cultured.
There is a wonderful version on Youtube by Glyndebourne Festival Opera– with subtitles! Here’s another. You want subtitles because “The Marriage of Figaro” is in Italian and songs don’t generally translate well from one language to another. You want to know what’s happening.
I will summarize the plot because I want to try to remember the basic plot points and regurgitating it is a good way to do that.
Okay, so here we go. Figaro is a servant to the Count. The Count has just abolished le droit de seigneur to the delight of his citizens. This, of course, is the mythical right of a lord to have the first sex with a subordinate woman on her wedding night. Figaro is especially delighted because he wishes to marry a fellow servant, hand-maiden to the Countess, Susanna. The Count, however, realizing he has missed an opportunity, attempts to rescind abolishment at least for one case: Susanna. Meanwhile, a mischievous servant, Cherubino, has been roaming around the castle making out with lots of women, and even has his eye on Susanna as well. The Count knows about him and wants to send him off to join the army, but the Countess and Susanna decide to dress him up as a woman so he can hide from the Count.
The Countess is upset about the Count chasing other women so she and Susanna plot together. Susanna will send a note to the Count agreeing to meet secretly in the garden that night. The Countess will dress up as Susanna on her wedding night, wearing her veil, and then wait there instead, trapping the Count. Susanna will dress up as the Countess. Figaro doesn’t know about the plan and thinks, at first, that Susanna is about to betray him. Somehow, he finds out she is not (there are lot of overheard conversations in this opera), but Susanna doesn’t know that Figaro knows that it is her dressed as the Countess. Figaro decides to have some fun and pretends to be hitting on the Countess. An angry Susanna whacks him a few times until he admits he knew who she was right away. The Count, meanwhile, does believe that Figaro was hitting on his wife, the Countess and calls in the guards to arrest them. That’s when his wife shows up revealing the Count’s nefarious scheme. The Count asks for forgiveness and everyone is happy. They sing a lovely song together.
That’s the song the writer raved about: Pian pianin le andrò più presso.
Or is it “Contessa Perdono”? I am not sure how Opera segments are organized and I don’t feel like taking the time to find out. There are lists and references to tracks and then to arias and recitatives and duets, and then subtitles referring to specific passages, I think.
In Amadeus, Salieri speaks about “Figaro” in the same vein as the piece in the Atlantic:
The restored third act is bold, brilliant. The fourth… was astounding. l saw a woman disguised in her maid’s clothes hear her husband speak the first tender words he’d offered her in years. Simply because he thinks she is someone else.
l heard the music of true forgiveness filling the theatre… conferring on all who sat there perfect absolution.
God was singing through this little man to all the world. Unstoppable. Making my defeat more bitter with every passing bar.
Anyway. Here’s my take-aways from watching the entire 3 hours.
One of the greatest works of art in history? Seriously? The music is absolutely fabulous, of course, but the comedy is very broad, very obvious, and the characters are cardboard cut-outs, really. One does get “into it” if you watch it patiently, and it is fairly enjoyable, but I would not rank it even against the movie about the composer, “Amadeus”, which, to me, was far more profound, far more insightful, and richer and deeper.
It is interesting to hear praise for the last act, the reconciliation scene, which kind of trivializes the philandering going on. All is forgiven. “Perfect absolution”. Let’s get back to the party and enjoy the frivolous pleasures of flirtation and– well, fucking. I don’t object to Mozart’s take on the issue– I mean, it is a comedy. But I wonder if the admiring audience shares his Woody Alan-esque view of love and romance?
But if you were trying to sell the “perfect absolution” is this context, you could never beat the musical setting of that piece: it is exquisite.