Background Notes
In November 1815 Rossini was in Rome (on one of his excused absences from the Neapolitan theaters) to supervise a revival of Il turco in Italia and to write a new work, Torvaldo e Dorliska , for the Teatro Valle to open its Carnival season. He was approached by the rival Teatro Argentina with yet another commission. The new opera required both parties to work within a narrow timeframe ? the Argentina was looking for a comic work to fill out its own winter season (the production had to be cast and ready by mid-February), and Rossini was expected back in Naples at any time. The contract was signed on December 15 with no specific subject in mind.
Jacopo Ferretti (later to be librettist for La Cenerentola) was selected to provide the text, but his product ? a sentimental drama involving a typical love triangle ? proved disappointing. Rossini turned to Cesare Sterbini, a librettist of less experience but one with whom he had just worked on Torvaldo . It is said to have been the composer's brainchild to set Beaumarchais's Le barbier de Séville , not a wholly original idea, as there were about six or seven treatments already on the market. Most notable of these was Giovanni Paisiello's Il barbiere di Siviglia , an exceedingly popular work from the 18th century that inspired Mozart to write his masterpiece on the playwright's sequel, The Marriage of Figaro. This was not an uncommon thing to do ? many operas of the 18th and 19th centuries were different musical settings of the same text.
Paisiello was still alive, however, and somewhat of a curmudgeon when it came to his colleagues. So Rossini took an extra precaution, writing the venerated composer and explaining that his intention was not to best the older man's cult favorite. Paisiello apparently had no objections, yet Sterbini and Rossini continued to play it safe by placing a "Notice to the Public" in their published libretto indicating their purpose was only to update Beaumarchais's play to modern tastes. They even gave their opera a new name: Almaviva, ossia L'inutile precauzione .
The collaborators probably fooled no one as each of their variants seemed for the better. Paisiello's opera was cast in 18th-century courtly elegance, its music adhering to the Classical style, and its text revealing none of Beaumarchais's sassy impertinence. Though Rossini still downplayed some of the political overtones, he consistently one-upped the old master with his inborn wit and exuberance. (Rossini, like Beaumarchais, seemed to have breathed a little of his own personality into the character of Figaro.) One excellent example is Don Basilio's calumny aria, a perfect vehicle for the famous "Rossini crescendo" ? slander first starts with a whisper, and with every repeated phrase adding greater instrumentation, eventually erupts like a thundering cannon. Rossini casts several of his numbers in the recently cultivated bel canto double aria ? a slow section, often repeated and embellished to highlight the singer's beautiful tone, followed by a fast-moving cabaletta, intended to show off great vocal agility and brilliant technique. Yet Bartolo's Act II arietta is fashioned in the style of Paisiello's era as an indicator of the good doctor's advanced age. And, of course, Rossini's ebullient orchestration and quick pace made a vast improvement on Paisiello's otherwise serene and stodgy score, cautiously accented by an occasional wind player.
In accordance with the theatrical demands of the day, composition went swiftly, but the Argentina's impresario, Duke Sforza-Cesarini, was beset with his own problems. He had inherited the theater from his ancestors, and it continually lost money. There was no help from the papal government, which frowned upon theatrical entertainment, pronouncing Rome a "city of churches." They did stipulate the Argentina was now to do comedy ? formerly it was restricted to opera seria on a grand scale, with star singers and lavish sets ? and this might have saved Sforza-Cesarini some money. Still, the poor Duke, overwhelmed with stress, died of a stroke two weeks before Barber's premiere. All of these ills would bear down on the fateful opening night.
Rossini worked well under stress and churned out a lengthy score at an amazing rate. A closer examination reveals many borrowed melodies from previous works (a practice not unheard of in the opera industry of the era), including all the storm music from La pietra del paragone and motives for Rosina's first aria from Elisabetta, regina d'Inghilterra . The overture is another story. Apparently there had been an original work, based on Spanish folk songs, but it subsequently became detached from the autograph and disappeared. For later productions Rossini appropriated the overture from his recently produced Elisabetta , itself taken from Aureliano in Palmira . This is the popular orchestral work we know today.
The premiere of Il barbiere di Siviglia (as the work became known several months later, after Paisiello's death) is one for the history books, yet no one knows for certain what really happened. There's talk of open trapdoors and bloody noses, snarling cats and broken guitar strings, whistling and shouting (Roman audiences were not known for being docile theatergoers). It appears that the performance was disrupted by both supporters of Paisiello and those of the Teatro Valle who were upset because of the infringement on their comic repertoire. Though dramatically more interesting, the late placement of Rosina's "Una voce poco fa" didn't help matters much, as audiences expected the prima donna to sing her entrance aria on her first appearance. At the end of the first act Rossini applauded his singers for their perseverance (barely a note had been heard), but the audience members took the gesture as a disregard of their opinion. Act II hardly went any better.
Not surprisingly, Rossini feigned illness for the second night (contractually he was to conduct the first three performances). With the rioters disbanded, the music could be heard and was immediately understood for the great masterpiece it would soon become. A surly mob surrounded Rossini's hotel and demanded to see the maestro so they could show their great appreciation. When he refused to come out, things turned ugly as they began throwing food and smashing windows. Apparently it was hard to please anyone in those days.
