Dance in Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro
Mozart's operas are among the most evocative and complex musical works in the Classic period. Of all his operas, his collaborative efforts with the librettist Lorenzo da Ponte are the most emotionally stirring, and of those, many still consider Le Nozze di Figaro the perfect opera. The form and content of Le Nozze di Figaro are seamless. Each moment is meticulously crafted and full of meaning, both on the surface and well below. One of the most creative details in the writing of Le Nozze di Figaro is the imaginative and telling use of dance forms. Some dances are including in the form of the opera as actual dance movements, but some are subtler, hiding below the surface of the music. Those moments are the most evocative in the whole opera, often telling more about the underlying themes in the opera than the libretto.
When Beaumarchais' play The Marriage of Figaro opened in 1784, he was called the Father of the French Revolution. The play was one of the first popular stage works to declare the struggle between classes in public. Soon after, the play was banned from performance in many countries in Europe. It was declared subversive and was blamed for stirring up unrest among the people. Such was the atmosphere in Austria when the Emperor Joseph learned of Mozart's plans to turn Beaumarchais' subversive play into an opera. Only after much pleading on behalf of Mozart and his proponents, and his promise to excise any politically charged material in the libretto did the emperor give Mozart permission to present his opera in the court theater.
To his credit, Mozart didn't entirely "sell out" as we would put it today. In fact, his music cleverly explicated all the political motives excised from the libretto. Many of those deleted themes are communicated through dance music in Le Nozze di Figaro.
Mozart himself was a greataficionado of the dance and was known as an exceptional dancer himself, one of his favorites being the Minuet, which "Mozart often danced himself" (Nettl 87). The Minuet shows up many times in Figaro, often as an ironic sign that power has turned from the hands of the upper class characters such as Count Almaviva to the servant class characters such as Susanna and Figaro. The Minuet has a special significance, as its origins are Spanish. "Dancers portraying two Spanish couples performed the first example of the minuet to appear in a stage production, Lully's Mariage forcé of 1664" (Mather 268).
The Minuet was the dance of choice for the nobility, and was really the only dance that the nobility would touch. "In the salons of the Count's ancien regime...the minuet stood alone" (Allanbrook 81). In the French courts of the Sun King, Louis XIV, being able to execute the Minuet with an incredible degree of precision was integral to keeping one's place in the court. In addition, incredible restrictions were placed on the dancers; "the old dance was painstakingly regulated and when a Court masquerade was held, the guests were told in detail how to dress and which dance to perform with which partner...." (Nettl 92).
In stark contrast to the Minuet was the Contredanse, its very name connotes opposition. "In Paris, the rural 'country dance' became a 'contre-dance' with emphasis on the contre - dancing 'against' each other" (Nettl 94). While the Minuet was a dance of the few, "the Contre Dance changed all this. Whoever had straight limbs and common sense was admitted" (Nettl 93).
A perfect example of the overt dance allusions is Figaro's first aria, Se Vuol Ballare: The aria begins with a minuet, albeit a brusque peasant kind of minuet, accompanied by pizzicato strings imitating the guitar accompaniment that Figaro promises he will play for the count. His power through dance becomes greater and he declares that he will not only play for the Count as he dances, he will also teach the Count the Capriola, a "leaping step" (Allanbrook 80). Allanbrook postulates that there may even be an "actual choreographic cue for the capriola in the music...in the dramatic weak-beat melodic leaps of a third and a sixth occurring in the 4 measure extension of the cadence of the first period (mm. 16, 18)" (Allanbrook 80).
Le Nozze di Figaro is full of examples of "hidden" dance moments, but the most impressive moment is the finale of Act Two of the opera. The finale begins with a duet between the Count and Countess Almaviva, the Count furious because he believes the Countess is hiding a man in the closet. The melody becomes a gavotte that is passed between the Count and Countess until the Countess stands firm with a march at measure 35 (Allanbrook 121). The power struggle is beginning to come through the music. The Count is very comfortable singing a march in double meter throughout the opera so far. When the countess usurps his power and his March, the transfer of power is clear in the music, if not in the libretto (121). This march continues with mounting fury until Susanna comes out of the closet instead of the supposed Cherubino. Here begins a minuet, "the most graceful and noblest version of the dance" (Allanbrook 123). Her minuet begins so sparingly that "it has no melody, the strings instead project...an `essence of minuet....' her line gradually takes on more articulation..." (123). Not only does Susanna's minuet undermine the nobility of the Count, but she also surpasses Figaro's early intention to "teach the Count how to dance" (124). It is, however, too easy to see Figaro and Susanna as servants who are playing at making their masters look foolish. "Not merely the clever servant reveling as she beats her master at his own game, she is nobler than Almaviva" (124). The effect of Susanna's newfound nobility is felt throughout the next section, where the Count begs for forgiveness from his wife and the Countess and Susanna berate him for his rashness. Susanna's nobility is again accentuated by Figaro's arrival, where "he choose a dance from the far right of the metrical spectrum for his entrance - a...triple Contredanse" nothing could be farther from Susanna's minuet (Allanbrook 126). Figaro intends to play the fool here, especially the Count Almaviva moves to confront him. "The Count...considers himself clever in his choice of rhythm to confront Figaro...desiring to exhibit his own competence at the dance game, he moves away from the march...to the gavotte" (Allanbrook 127). His subterfuge backfires, however, as it is obvious that he is not comfortable in this idiom. He falls into Plato's trap of the ideal and the functional derivative, thinking that by presenting an imitation he is embodying the actual ideal. The Count fails miserably.
Again, the tension mounts and all the characters share in a gavotte that turns becomes "grounded" by a deep pedal point that often sounds like an organ on many recordings. It gives the dance an "unsuspected depth" and imbues it with "startling beauty" (Allanbrook 130).
These are just a few examples of how dance forms are introduced, transformed and dissolved in a seamless, beautiful fashion. Even a brief insight into Mozart's genius in writing Figaro is a revelation. In truth, the music and the libretto work together so well that they seem to have to a conversation with each other that communicates far more than even Beaumarchais may have intended.
Works Cited
Allanbrook, Wye Jamison. Rhythmic Gesture in Mozart: Le Nozze di Figaro & Don Giovanni. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983.
Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus. Le Nozze di Figaro. G. Shirmer Edition. 1947.
Mather, Betty Bang. Dance Rhythms of the French Baroque: A Handbook for Performance. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987.
Nettl, Paul. The Dance in Classical Music. New York: Philosophical Library, 1963.
Le Nozze di Figaro. Video Recording. Peter Sellars, Dir. Decca. New York. Decca Video, 1990.
Copyright 2005 - Joshua Carr - originally written for Music 11.3 at the Conservatory of Music at Brooklyn College - CUNY - Professor Bruce MacIntyre