"THE BARBER OF SEVILLE."--FIRST REPRESENTATION.
First representations are a composer's battles. Rossini's hardest fight
was at the first representation of the "Barber of Seville." For some
reason not explained the Roman public were as ill disposed towards
Sterbini, the librettist, as towards Rossini himself--who was simply
looked upon as an audacious young man, for venturing to place himself in
competition with the illustrious Paisiello.
Paisiello's work had grown old (as the preface to Rossini's libretto,
with all its compliments, ingeniously points out), and it had ceased to
be played. Perhaps for that very reason the Roman public continued to
hold it in esteem. Rossini, all the same, was to be punished for his
rashness, and he seems to have been hissed, not only without his work
being heard, but before one note of it had been played, and, according
to M. Azevedo, before the doors were opened.
At least two original accounts have been published of the "Barber's"
first presentation to the Roman public--one, the most copious, by
Zanolini;[20] the other, the most trustworthy, by Madame Giorgi
Righetti, who took a leading part in the performance on the stage.
Madame Giorgi Righetti was the _Rosina_ of the evening.
Garcia, the celebrated tenor, was the _Almaviva_.
The _Figaro_ was our friend the chief lodger, Luigi Zamboni, who, after
distinguishing himself on all the operatic stages in Europe, became,
like Garcia, a singing master, and taught other _Figaros_, besides
_Almavivas_ and _Rosinas_, how to sing Rossini's music.
The original _Don Basilio_ was Vitarelli; _Bartholo_, Botticelli.
The overture, an original work, written expressly for "Il Barbiere," and
not the overture to "Aureliano in Palmira" afterwards substituted for
it, was executed in the midst of a general murmuring, "such," remarks
Zanolini, "as is heard on the approach of a procession." Stendhal says
that the Roman public recognised, or thought they recognised, in the
overture the grumbling of the old guardian, and the lively remonstrances
of his interesting ward. But he also says that the overture performed
was that of "Aureliano;" probably he confounds two different
representations. M. Azevedo thinks the original overture was lost
through the carelessness of a copyist, but it is difficult to understand
how, not only the composer's score, but also the orchestral parts, could
have been lost in this manner. One thing is certain that on the opening
night the overture met with but little attention.
The introduction, according to Stendhal, was not liked, but this can
only mean that it was not heard.
The appearance of Garcia did not change the disposition of the public.
"The composer," says Madame Giorgi Righetti, "was weak enough to allow
Garcia to sing beneath _Rosina's_ balcony a Spanish melody of his own
arrangement." Garcia maintained, that as the scene was in Spain, the
Spanish melody would give the drama an appropriate local colour; but,
unfortunately, the artist who reasoned so well, and who was such an
excellent singer, forgot to tune his guitar before appearing on the
stage as _Almaviva_. He began the operation in the presence of the
public; a string broke; the vocalist proceeded to replace it, but before
he could do so laughter and hisses were heard from all parts of the
house. The Spanish air, when Garcia was at last ready to sing it, did
not please the Italian audience, and the pit listened to it just enough
to be able to give an ironical imitation of it afterwards.
The audience could not hiss the introduction to _Figaro's_ air; but when
Zamboni entered, with another guitar in his hand, a loud laugh was set
up, and not a phrase of "Largo al fattotum" was heard. When _Rosina_
made her appearance in the balcony the public were quite prepared to
applaud Madame Giorgi Righetti in an air which they thought they had a
right to expect from her; but only hearing her utter a phrase which led
to nothing, the expressions of disapprobation recommenced. The duet
between _Almaviva_ and _Figaro_ was accompanied throughout with hissing
and shouting. The fate of the work seemed now decided.
At length _Rosina_ reappeared, and sang the cavatina which had so long
been desired; for Madame Giorgi Righetti was young, had a fresh,
beautiful voice, and was a great favourite with the Roman public. Three
long rounds of applause followed the conclusion of her air, and gave
some hope that the opera might yet be saved. Rossini, who was at the
orchestral piano, bowed to the public, then turned towards the singer,
and whispered, "Oh, natura!"
The entry of _Don Basilio_, now so effective, was worse than a failure
the first night. Vitarelli's make up was admirable; but a small trap had
been left open on the stage, at which he stumbled and fell. The singer
had bruised his face terribly, and began his admirably dramatic air with
his handkerchief to his nose. This in itself must have sufficed to spoil
the effect of the music. Some of the audience, with preternatural
stupidity, thought the fall and the subsequent, consequent application
of the handkerchief to the face, was in the regular "business" of the
part, and, not liking it, hissed.
The letter-duet miscarried partly, it appears, through the introduction
of some unnecessary incidents, afterwards omitted; but the audience were
resolved to ridicule the work, and, as often happens in such cases,
various things occurred to favour their pre-determination.
At the beginning of the magnificent finale a cat appeared on the stage,
and with the usual effect. _Figaro_ drove it one way, _Bartholo_
another, and in avoiding _Basilio_ it encountered the skirt of
_Rosina_--behaved, in short, as a cat will be sure to behave mixed up in
the action of a grand operatic finale. The public were only too glad to
have an opportunity of amusing themselves apart from the comedy; and the
opening of the finale was not listened to at all.
The noise went on increasing until the curtain fell. Then Rossini turned
towards the public, shrugged his shoulders, and began to applaud. The
audience were deeply offended by this openly-expressed contempt for
their opinion, but they made no reply at the time.
The vengeance was reserved for the second act, of which not a note
passed the orchestra. The hubbub was so great, that nothing like it was
ever heard at any theatre. Rossini in the meanwhile remained perfectly
calm, and afterwards went home as composed as if the work, received in
so insulting a manner, had been the production of some other musician.
After changing their clothes, Madame Giorgi Righetti, Garcia, Zamboni,
and Botticelli went to his house to console him in his misfortune. They
found him fast asleep.
The next day he wrote the delightful cavatina, "Ecco ridente il cielo,"
to replace Garcia's unfortunate Spanish air. The melody of the new solo
was borrowed from the opening chorus of "Aureliano in Palmira," written
by Rossini, in 1814, for Milan, and produced without success; the said
chorus having itself figured before in the same composer's, "Ciro in
Babilonia," also unfavourably received. Garcia read his cavatina as it
was written, and sang it the same evening. Rossini, having now made the
only alteration he thought necessary, went back to bed, and pretended to
be ill, that he might not have to take his place in the evening at the
piano. The charming melody which, in "Il Barbiere," is sung by Count
_Almaviva_ in honour of _Rosina_, is addressed by the chorus in
"Aureliano" to the spouse of the grand _Osiris_, "Sposa del Grande
Osiride," &c.
At the second performance the Romans seemed disposed to listen to the
work of which they had really heard nothing the night before. This was
all that was needed to insure the opera's triumphant success. Many of
the pieces were applauded; but still no enthusiasm was exhibited. The
music, however, pleased more and more with each succeeding
representation, until at last the climax was reached, and "Il Barbiere"
produced those transports of admiration among the Romans with which it
was afterwards received in every town in Italy, and in due time
throughout Europe. It must be added, that a great many connoisseurs at
Rome were struck from the first moment with the innumerable beauties of
Rossini's score, and went to his house to congratulate him on its
excellence. As for Rossini, he was not at all surprised at the change
which took place in public opinion. He was as certain of the success of
his work the first night, when it was being hooted, as he was a week
afterwards, when every one applauded it to the skies.
The tirana composed by Garcia, "Se il mio nome saper voi bramate,"
which he appears to have abandoned after the unfavourable manner in
which it was received at Rome, was afterwards reintroduced into the
"Barber" by Rubini. It is known that the subject of the charming trio
"Zitti, Zitti" does not belong to Rossini--or, at least, did not till he
took it. It may be called a reminiscence of Rossini's youth, being note
for note the air sung by _Simon_ in Haydn's "Seasons," one of the works
directed by Rossini at Bologna when he was still a student at the
Lyceum.
Finally, the original idea of the air sung by the duenna _Berta_ is
taken from a Russian melody which Rossini had heard from the lips of a
Russian lady at Rome, and had introduced into his opera for her sake. It
is melodious, and above all, lively--yet occurring at a point in the
drama where, for a time, all action ceases, it came to be looked upon as
a signal for ordering ices.
Rossini wrote a trio for the scene of the music lesson, which has been
either lost or (more probably) set aside by successive _Rosinas_ who
have preferred to substitute a violin concerto, or a waltz, or a
national ballad, or anything else that the daughter of _Bartholo_ would
have been very likely to sing to her music-master. It is a pity that the
trio cannot be recovered. _Rosina_ might still sing a favourite air
between the acts.
* * * * *
The original _Rosina_, by the way, Madame Giorgi Righetti, had a mezzo
soprano voice; indeed, Rossini in Italy wrote none of his great parts
for the soprano. When he first began to compose, the highest parts were
taken by the sopranist, while the prima donna was generally a
contralto--an arrangement somewhat suggestive of our burlesques, in
which male parts are taken by women, female parts by men.
Rossini rose from the contralto (Madame Malanotte in "Tancredi," Madame
Marcolini in "L'Italiana in Algeri") to the mezzo soprano (Madame Giorgi
Righetti and Mademoiselle Colbran); but in his Italian operas, the part
of _Matilda_ in "Matilda di Sabran" is the only first part written for
the soprano voice. _Amenaide_, the soprano of "Tancredi," is a lady of
secondary importance, the chief female part being of course that of
_Tancredi_.
M. Castil-Blaze has given an interesting account of the various keys in
which the chief solo pieces in "Il Barbiere" have been presented to the
public. Of course Madame Giorgi Righetti sang _Rosina's_ air in its
original key, F. Madame Persiani and other sopranos sang it in G.
_Figaro's_ air, written in C for Zamboni, is generally sung in B flat;
Tamburini sang it in B natural. _Basilio's_ air, "La Calunnia,"
generally sung in C, is written in D. _Bartholo's_ air, written in E
flat, used to be sung by Lablache in D flat.
These particulars may be interesting to those who believe in the
abstract value of a normal diapason, and in the absolute character of
keys. We have all heard the principal airs in "Il Barbiere" sung in the
keys in which they were _not_ written. We have seldom heard any of them
sung in the keys in which Rossini wrote them; yet who can say that by
these frequent, constant transpositions they lose anything of their
original character--that _Figaro's_ air, for instance, sounds mournful
when sung in B flat?