The Two Rosinas
Of all the fascinating characters created throughout the vast history of opera, two of the most memorable are actually the same person. That character is Rosina, the long-suffering wife of Mozart's
The Marriage of Figaro, and the young ward in Rossini's
The Barber of Seville. The character of Rosina comes from the trilogy of plays by the 18th-century French playwright Beaumarchais, whose popular series pointedly and viciously lampooned the ruling class. The two Rosinas, as interpreted by the these great composers, become two quite different portraits that give us a glimpse into the differing eras in which they were created: the Enlightenment of the 18th century (
The Marriage of Figaro), and the early Romantic movement that took place at the beginning of the 19th century (
The Barber of Seville).
Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro highlights the ideals of the Enlightenment, an era that promoted the concept of reconciliation, or the belief that human beings, through reason and intelligence, can overcome the antagonism that separates one from another. Mozart's Figaro is a well-thought-out, perfectly symmetrical composition with a warmth and beauty that lends a humane element to Beaumarchais's vivid satire. Mozart's music is the embodiment of the Enlightenment. It is dominated by warm woodwind sounds and vocal placement: the male roles are generally written as baritones, and even his sopranos tend to sing in the middle range. His characters are in control and can solve their problems. No matter how mad the comedy, there is a rational, satisfying ending.
While philosophers of the Enlightenment argued that injustice could be overcome by a simple effort of mind and goodwill, the philosophers of the early 19th century argued that the insufficiencies of our existence were firmly rooted in human nature and the precariousness of communal survival. The Barber of Seville, despite having a plot that precedes The Marriage of Figaro in the Beaumarchais trilogy, is the perfect musical embodiment of this new mood of intellectual and emotional retreat. The work is completely unserious. It displays human cruelty in its many guises and refuses any kind of psychological or moral investment. In essence, the argument of both libretto and music is that life can be managed only by laughing at it.
Let us look at the two Rosinas and see how the two characters define the times in which they were written. Our first impression of Rosina the Countess in The Marriage of Figaro comes at the top of Act II. We've already heard much about her and realize that she has much to complain about. Instead, we hear her sing an aria of such melancholy that we are moved by her restraint. There is a stillness to her character that speaks volumes. In her second aria, the sorrow is replaced by another emotion: hope. While the first part of the aria covers much the same emotional territory as the first aria, the second half of the aria concludes with a brilliant passage that speaks much about the 18th-century mind and gives the character a richness and dimension. We find out that this countess will not be defeated by her circumstances. The Countess' last appearance reflects the Enlightenment ideal of humanity: a generous response to other humans, a tolerance of their shortcomings, and finally, a readiness to forgive. When we look at the letter duet with Susanna in Act III, we see a countess and her servant singing together in perfect harmony, suggesting their equality. We are overwhelmed by her act of forgiveness at the evening's end, an act that sums up this Rosina's character and serves as the perfect symbol of an era.
There couldn't be a bigger contrast when we are first introduced to Rossini's Rosina. We see a beguiling character who, instead of singing a melancholy aria about her understandably frustrating predicament, sings a bravura aria that catalogues her romantic objectives. And, whereas the Countess seems to muse to herself (the audience merely eavesdrops on her real-life declamations), this Rosina seems to speak directly to the audience, acknowledging the artifice and theatricality of her song. All in all, this aria is a celebration of self. Love is not the subject, merely the occasion.
The Barber of Seville seems to be the ultimate opera of reaction: Romanticism's reaction to the Enlightenment. Like other Romantic characters in opera and literature, Rossini's characters ? absurd stereotypes ? leave their fates to circumstance, coincidence, and trickery. The opera's cynicism is a pointed criticism of Western culture that contrasts greatly with the rational humanism of The Marriage of Figaro. In this opera Rossini takes nothing seriously: God, society, love and even music. He thumbs his nose at his more serious contemporaries such as Beethoven and Schubert. While Mozart celebrated the richness of the human experience, Rossini wanted his audiences to have a good time, not to think too hard about what they saw on stage. It is through these two composers and their two extreme Rosinas that we can see two very different eras come to life. Materials Courtesy of The Minnesota Opera
