The Perfect Opera

It’s easy to be seduced by the near-endless supply of gorgeous melodies in Marriage of Figaro—to float on that exquisite surface without penetrating the depth of Mozart’s brilliance. But Figaro, presented this month by the Minnesota Opera, is a work of genius.

Operas with bad librettos are rarely successful. Most great operas start with great librettos. But greatness in a libretto is different from greatness in a play. Literal truth and even logic are much less important in an opera than emotional truth (or emotional excess). The text needs to give the composer the opportunity to create larger-than-life characters and depict heightened passions, however melodramatic they may be.

Da Ponte’s libretto is based on an excellent play by French playwright Pierre Beaumarchais (who was also the source of Rossini’s The Barber of Seville). But Da Ponte improved on the original. Political circumstances forced him to remove the revolutionary elements of Beaumarchais’s tale of class warfare, but he added new depth to the characters. The comedy becomes more heartfelt than satiric.

Mozart is an expert at using music to tell a story, an important dramatic effect for which he’s not given enough credit. For example, at the start of the opera, the servant Figaro is measuring the room where he and his bride-to-be, Susanna, will live. Susanna comes in modeling her wedding veil and wants Figaro’s praise, but he can’t be distracted. They are at odds, which Mozart emphasizes by giving them competing melodies. Mozart makes clear who wins the argument—Susanna. By the end of the duet, Figaro has given up his tune and is singing hers.

The “Letter Duet” is a complete scene within the strict proportions of classical structure. As the Countess dictates a fake love note, Mozart leaves enough time in the music for Susanna to write the message. He even has Susanna misunderstand a line so the Countess needs to repeat it. They then reread the letter, singing together.

Mozart is adept at using music to develop characters. His arias for each character are so distinctive that it’s hard to imagine them being sung by any other. When the pageboy Cherubino sings of love in “Non so piu,” it’s with the breathless infatuation of youth. On the other hand, the Countess’ “Dove sono,” with its long line and arching melody, depicts a mature and noble passion. The depth of Susanna’s big aria, “Deh, vieni non tardar,” sounds like something the Countess might sing, but then, Susanna is disguised as the Countess when she performs it.

The musical structures also reveal that Da Ponte and Mozart changed the emphasis of the original play, which focused on Figaro. The opera should be called The Marriage of Susanna, because she propels the dramatic action, something that Da Ponte and Mozart establish by making her the second part in all six of the duets, as well as including her in every ensemble.

The extended finales in the second and fourth acts were novelties at the time they were composed. Each is more than twenty minutes of continuous melody, which characterize moments, both silly and profound, that build toward tremendous climaxes.

For all the value of surtitles, it might be better to focus less on the translation and more on the music. Let Mozart tell the story. May 5–6, 8–13. Ordway Center for the Performing Arts, 345 Washington St., St. Paul, 651-333-6669. For more Figaro, Theatre de la Jeune Lune presents its version through June 25. 105 N. 1st St., Mpls., 612-333-6200

Reach William Randall Beard at randybeard@hotmail.com.