"Largo al factotum" from "Il barbiere di Siviglia"

That's right, going with this week's apparent theme of "Posts I Should've Written Ages Ago," as well as in honor of the Metropolitan Opera's Summer HD Festival, today's piece is the reason this blog exists.  A decidedly silly piece of music written by a very impressive young man, "Largo al factotum" from Rossini's Il barbiere di Siviglia (or, for the less pretentious among us, The Barber of Seville) has been relegated to Looney Tunes and the Jersey Shore, but what it represents in music history is so large it's almost ridiculous.  Not only is Il barbiere di Siviglia considered the archetypal opera buffa (a genre of opera that spawned its own voice type, no less), but Rossini is one third of what is known as the bel canto era.  All of these italicized, Italianate terms will be expounded upon, of course, but suffice it to say, "Largo al factotum" is much bigger than the sum of its parts.

Every picture of Rossini has this "I know something awful about you" look to it.

Gioachino Antonio Rossini was born in 1792 in Pesaro, Italy to a family of musicians; his father was a horn player and his mother was a professional singer.  His childhood was somewhat turbulent - his father was jailed for his political leanings, and his mother would often have to travel to perform and keep her son fed and clothed.  He learned the fundamentals of music from Angelo Tesei, and his first compositions were six string quartets, written at the age of twelve.  Gioachino really, really liked Mozart, to the point that his classmates would call him "The German" in jest.  His first opera was written when he was fourteen, but was not premiered until he was twenty.  His first premiered opera was La cambiale di matrimonio (or "The Marriage Contract"), produced when he was just eighteen.  He found international acclaim with the premiere of Tancredi at twenty, and from that moment on, he never lacked in fame or finance.

Even in his early career, he was transforming the operatic world - in Tancredi, he began the practice of writing out ornaments for singers instead of letting them come up with them for themselves.  This doesn't sound like a huge deal, and it wouldn't be if not for the fact that no one did that before.  In Baroque opera, a defining feature was the da capo aria, in which was contained a melody to be sung through relatively straight the first time, a contrasting second section, and then a repeat of the first in which the aim was to sing the hell out of that melody, adding as many displays of virtuosity as possible.  Writing out the ornamentation made the arias less showpieces (though, clearly, they were still showpieces that could stand alone in recital) and tied them closer to the dramatic aspects of the opera.  Il barbiere di Siviglia premiered in 1816, when Rossini was twenty-four, and that is where our biography of the man will end for now (though he did live to the age of 76).  For one, I've got to keep enough to write about when we get to the overture of Guillaume Tell...

Apparently this is from a Haydn opera buffa.  Very silly indeed.

Il barbiere di Siviglia is what some have called the most perfect example of opera buffa ever.  In the literal sense, "opera buffa" simply means "funny opera," and it is true that opera buffa does tend to be quite a bit funnier (and shorter!) than its counterpart, opera seria (meaning exactly what you think it does).  More than that, though, opera buffa is opera designed at least in part to be enjoyed by the masses, with lower-class people dealing with lower-class problems, instead of the mythological or royal origins of opera seria's plot lines.  Opera buffa created its own voice type as well, the basso buffo.  These parts are often given very silly parts, and quite a lot of patter, or fast-paced wordy vocal lines, thrown in for good measure.  Furthermore, Il barbiere di Siviglia is one of the first examples mentioned when one is disucssing bel canto.  Meaning "beautiful singing," bel canto is both a style of singing (with a focus on lightness of tone and agility) and also a categorization of operas by Rossini, Gaetano Donizetti and Vincenzo Bellini.  The term bel canto to describe a genre of opera did not spring up until later in the 1800s in contrast to - surprise, surprise - Richard Wagner, whose weightier subject matters and style of singing stood in direct opposition to that of the light, comparatively 'shallow' bel canto composers.

If you forget the second 'f' when typing buffo, this is what you find. 

The play itself was written by Pierre Beaumarchais, the first part of a trilogy of "Figaro" plays.  The Marriage of Figaro, one of Mozart's most well-known operas, is based on the second play.  "Largo al factotum" is the first entrance of Figaro, a, well, barber who lives in Seville.  Nothing like a good case of truth in advertising, right?  The aria itself is a boast on Figaro's part i which he talks about how he is the most-desired barber in all of Seville.  He calls himself an expert with beards, hair, wigs and leeches (since barbers in the 18th century, when the play was written, were also small-time doctors, and a favorite remedy was bloodletting via leech), and the iconic "Figaro!  Figaro!" is Figaro's imagined throng of people clamoring for his attention and razors.  Perhaps, since it is a puffed-up five minutes of a barber's boast, "Largo al factotum" is perfect for the Looney Tunes world, but it really is what it represents in the larger picture of music history that makes it so much more interesting than Jersey Shore may give credit.

Further listening:

Want to hear one of the best (and earliest) examples of basso buffo?  Try "Madamina, il catalogo è questa" from Mozart's Don Giovanni (performed by Richard Cassell): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYUlCropCGY

Equally interested in da capo arias with some truly delightful choreography?  Try "Non disperar" from Handel's Giulio Cesare (performed by Danielle de Niese): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AhLluWn3UKY