OPERA The Italian Opera Company of Chicago

The Bel Canto period of opera marked one of the most brilliant episodes in the development of any art form. The period’s foremost composers, Rossini, Bellini and Donizetti, building on the legacy of the baroque and classical masters, especially Mozart, established a standard formal scheme (subject to many variations) for the venerable scena* and aria* that served as the model for the vocal writing for Verdi, Puccini and their contemporaries. The operas of this period also gave us the traditional cast of principals – soprano, tenor, baritone and bass – that would become a fixture (again with variations) in modern musical theater. At the same time, the beauty, lyricism and technical virtuosity of the many Bel Canto vocal scores is not only evidence of the composers’ genius, but also of the incredible talent of the singers that brought the operas to life. Four of the greatest Bel Canto singing stars were soprano Giulia Grisi, tenor Giovanni Battista Rubini, baritone Antonio Tamburini and bass Luigi Lablache – The Puritani Quartet – so-called because of their creation of the principal roles in the Bellini opera.

Less than two months after the January 1835 premiere of I Puritani at the Theatre Italiens in Paris, this same stellar cast created the principal roles at the same theater for Donizetti’s Marino Faliero (unfortunately, without the same degree of success they enjoyed in the Bellini opera). Each individual member of the group had created roles for a number of Donizetti operas in the past, but this marked the first time that all four appeared together in a Donizetti premiere. Eight years later, the newly reconstituted Quartet, with Mario as the tenor, would appear together at the Theatre Italiens in the premiere of Don Pasquale, one of just four nineteenth-century comedies to survive in the standard repertoire, the others being Rossini’s Il barbiere di Siviglia, Donizetti’s own L’elisir d’amoreand Verdi’s Falstaff.

As we listen to this comic masterpiece today, with its beautiful music and hilarious plot, it may seem unlikely that right up to its first performance, a pall of doubt and gloom shrouded all concerned as to the opera's expected reception. Donizetti’s problems had started out with crafting the libretto. He had chosen an Italian poet and political exile, Giovanni Ruffini, to adapt the libretto by Angelo Anelli for Stefano Pavesi’s 1810 opera, Ser Marcantonio, which in turn was based on Epicoene or The Silent Woman, a play written by Ben Jonson in 1609. Antonio Salieri also produced an opera adapted from this play called Angiolina in 1800. At first Ruffini was honored and enthused because of the opportunity to collaborate with the then-undisputed king of Italian opera. But as work progressed, Donizetti became ever more actively involved with the lyrics, writing many verses himself. Shortly before the opera was completed, Ruffini pulled out of the project and refused to accept authorship of the libretto. Hence the initials “M. A.” (those of Michele Accursi, Donizetti’s agent in France) that appear on the original manuscript.

It is commonly believed today that Bel Canto composers cared little about the substance and poetry of a libretto, as long as it served as a vehicle for the pleasing melodies and bravura arias expected by the audience. For the most part this may be true, given the practice of the day for composers to produce as many operas as possible as quickly as possible. But Donizetti, Bellini, Rossini and even Mozart all became deeply involved with shaping a libretto on numerous occasions, although probably never to the extent that Verdi did in his middle and later works. In the case of Don Pasquale, the main impetus for Donizetti’s serious involvement with the libretto came from Antonio Tamburini, who felt slighted because his role of Dr. Malatesta was dwarfed by the title role, to be sung by his long time colleague, Luigi Lablache. It was all-too-common in the Bel Canto period, when opera was still primarily a singer’s art, for singers to demand alterations in both text and score to aggrandize their roles. Usually the composers acquiesced to the wishes of the singers, knowing full well that the success of an opera depended more on the reception to the performance than the quality of the score.

Donizetti’s motivations notwithstanding, by enlarging the role of Malatesta as he did, the composer fashioned a certain type of drama that is akin to many other great plays and operas. What these all contain is similar to a play-within-a-play, wherein virtually all the events are scripted by one of the characters. Shakespeare was very fond of this device, using it with great success in several works. The Duke in Measure for Measure, Iago in Othello, Oberon in A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Prospero in The Tempest are all examples of characters who conceive of and implement their respective play’s main story line. In non-Shakespearean opera we have similar examples, such as Don Alfonso in Mozart’s Cosi fan tutte, Figaro in both Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro and Rossini’s Il barbiere, Mephistopheles in Gounod’s Faust and Scarpia in Puccini’s Tosca.

In our opera, like some of the previously mentioned manipulators, Dr. Malatesta enlists the aid and participation of other principals in his clever conspiracy against Don Pasquale, whom he teaches a lesson in humility with devastating impact. Don Pasquale, a very fat but very rich septuagenarian, is displeased with the intention of his nephew (and sole heir), Ernesto, to marry the poor, but young and beautiful, Norina. To spite Ernesto for going against his will, Don Pasquale comes up with the fanciful idea of marrying a beautiful young girl himself, which will effectively disinherit his nephew. To find the perfect mate Pasquale begs the help of his best friend and physician, Dr. Malatesta.

Realizing that his friend is beyond reason on this issue, the cunning Malatesta announces that he has found the perfect wife for Pasquale. She is young, beautiful and “pure as an angel,” having been raised in a convent. What’s more, she is the doctor’s own sister, Sofronia. In fact, Malatesta has convinced Norina to impersonate Pasquale’s dream girl and to go through with a sham marriage ceremony, all to show the old man the error of his ways. When “Sofronia” and Pasquale meet, the girl convinces him that she is properly modest and incredibly naïve, while simultaneously flirtatious, which inflames the old man’s passions to a fever pitch. Ernesto, who had been shocked and chagrined by his uncle's intentions, arrives during the false ceremony just in time to join the conspiracy after catching a warning glance from Malatesta.

As soon as the phony marriage contract is signed and witnessed, Phase II of Malatesta’s plot begins. When Pasquale eagerly tries to kiss his bride, Sofronia repels him in the most offensive way she can, thus beginning a pattern of shrewish behavior that ultimately brings the old man to his wits’ end. After a series of outrageously funny events, culminating with Pasquale finding a note of assignation from Sofronia’s fictional lover, the old man is finally brought to his senses and is eminently relieved when he finds out the truth of the matter. Good-naturedly admitting the folly of not acting his age, Pasquale thanks Malatesta for the tough love and blesses the union of Ernesto and Norina.

Of the few comic operas that are still performed with any frequency, I have always found the plot of Don Pasquale to be the funniest. That the opera contains some absolutely gorgeous, typically Bel Canto, music is almost icing on the cake. But no matter how intuitive and clever Donizetti was in shaping the libretto, his main contribution was his sparkling vocal score and some very ingenious instrumental effects. As usual, Donizetti dashed off the score quickly – the composer claimed the task took only eleven days! (No wonder he accused Rossini of being lazy for taking a full two weeks on the score for Il barbiere.) Of course Donizetti helped his own cause by borrowing a few numbers from previously written works, including Gianni di Parigi, L’elisir d’amore and Caterina Cornaro, a common enough practice in opera. It may be, as some critics have speculated, that Donizetti was already distracted by the symptoms of the tragic illness that would claim his life several years later. Nevertheless, the score is outstanding, with plenty of good music for all principals.

But even with a fine score and witty, tightly knit plot, the rehearsals went badly. The singers did not respond with their usual energy, perhaps because the genre of comedy deprived them of the potential for the histrionics that tragedy generally afforded. And then, when the traditional semi-public dress rehearsal was met with stony silence, it seemed that all was lost. But all art, no matter how faithful to the creator’s concept, ultimately takes on a life of its own, and it has always been virtually impossible to predict how an audience will react. So on the evening of the premiere, January 3, 1843, Donizetti was ecstatically pleased when the opera triumphed resoundingly. In a letter to Giovanni Ricordi, Donizetti reported, “I was called out at the end of the second and third acts and there was not one piece, from the overture on, that was not applauded to a greater or lesser extent.” The critics were even more effusive in their praise of Don Pasquale: “No opera written expressly for the Theatre-Italien has had a more clamorous success. Four or five numbers repeated, calls for the singers, calls for the maestro – in sum, one of those ovations which are given prodigally by the dozen in Italy, but which in Paris are reserved for the truly great.” (Journal des Debats)

Not surprisingly, the lions share of acclaim went to the fabulous Lablache, who projected “the farce of fatness trying to make itself seductive, but with an entire avoidance of grossness.” But Grisi had numerous opportunities to showcase her dazzling coloratura, Mario was supplied with several passionate tenor cavatinas and Tamburini shined in solos and ensembles with the kind of middle-register ultra lyrical lines on which he thrived. No wonder this opera, with something for everyone, was soon played all over the world and has kept its appeal for so long. In short, for anyone who wants to get a true feel for the brilliance of Bel Canto music, or perhaps to reflect on the fact that “there’s no fool like an old fool,” Don Pasquale is the perfect opera!