CHAPTER VI.

"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?