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Opera theatres and audiences in early nineteenth-century 'Italy' were very different than they are today. The impresario of the theatre in a small city was usually a wealthy citizen who thought being an impresario of a theatre would enhance his social standing. He would assemble a group of singers (a prima donna, a tenor, and a few basses), hire a librettist to write the words, and then engage the composer. The composer would go to the city, get to know the singers and what they could do and, only then, actually write the music. Rossini told Wagner: " I never had much choice among librettos, which were imposed upon me by the impresarios. I can't tell you how many times it happened that, at first, I received only part of the scenarios [synopsis], an act at a time, for which I had to compose the music without knowing what followed or the [end of the story]". (Big city opera houses such as La Scala in Milan, which used the most famous composers, did consult with the composer beforehand, who was often able to choose his own librettist.
Changes were made continuously throughout the rehearsal period and even during the later performances always amidst much intrigue. As casts changed, the music had to be rewritten to meet the capabilities of the singers. Composers had to versatile, adaptable and, above all, speedy. Rossini was to say, "Give me a laundry list and I will set it to music".
The new opera might be repeated on thirty consecutive nights! Each city had about one new opera per season, with the composer conducting the first three performances. There were no royalties and no copyrights. Little attempt was made at historical accuracy in costumes and scenery. Singers usually wore clothes of their own period. If a singer was indisposed, the opera would still go on; often his part was simply omitted!
The author Stendhal claims that Mozart was not at first appreciated in Italy because the Italians did not know how to play his music. He described how when Don Giovanni was brought to Italy, the orchestra members were distressed because they were expected to play in time! The first attempts were disasterous. Finally six musicians were hired, sworn to secrecy, and made to practice for six months. Then singers were hired, and they practiced for two more months. When the performance finally arrived, the Italians realized that Mozart, properly played, was worth listening to after all. (There is a scene in Peter Shaffer's play Amadeus in which Mozart is conducting a rehearsal and repeatedly asks singers and players to keep to the indicated time.)
Before Rossini, singers were often given basic musical themes and expected to improvise on them. Things got so out of hand that Rossini started to write out the parts in full. Stendhal criticized this. "The revolution inaugurated by Rossini has killed the gift of originality in the singer. It is wrong for the composer to provie all ornamentation, since he doesn't know what voices will be capable of. Singers also like to ornament differently, according to the mood they are in!" Pity the other singers and the orchestra who had to guess when the improvisation would end, and their turn would come.
Audience members were allowed to sit on the stage, especially if they were relatives or admirers. If singers had favorite arias, whether they belonged to the opera being performed or not, they would insist on being allowed to open their performances with them. These were called 'suitcase arias' because they traveled around with the singers.
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Those
who could afford it attended every night and paid little attention to the actual
opera. They arrived late, visited, talked, and generally ignored what was happening
on stage. They came to be seen, not to see (with no electicity the light could
not be dimmed during a performance). Even later, at the Metropolitan Opera in
New York, audiences in the late nineteenth century protested against productions
which had darkened theatres; their jewels would not glitter in the dark! Society
people rented a box in every theatre in their city (four in Rome, seven in Venice).
They would be fairly silent during the first scenes but, after that, no one
listened unless something extremely interesting was happening on stage. In addition
to visiting, some played chess or cards, while others ate meals. In Venice the
boxes could even be shut off from the theatre, and who knows what went on then.
One visitor estimated that, during the season, a typical Milanese spent a quarter of his life at the opera. The better boxes were furnished like living rooms with sofas, mirrors and chandeliers. The Archduke's box in Milan had a private sitting room and bedroom attached to it. Not even the rulers were well behaved. Stories are told of one of the Kings of Naples who would bring a dish of macaroni, oil and cheese to the theatre and amuse himself by throwing handfuls to the audience below which, in order to curry favor, would struggle to catch and eat them.
Things were quite different in the 'pit', what is now called the orchestra section. It was the domain of the more disreputable characters, who behaved even worse than the upper classes. (The respectable middle class was relegated to the upper balcony!)
An ubiquitous feature of opera all over the world was the claque, which lasted almost until the present. The great Russian bass, Chaliapin, describes it thus:
At this time, in theatres all over Europe, the claque was an institution. The claque leader would buy tickets in various parts of a theatre, and install his agents in them. If the leader was paid enough, his agents would applaud enthusiastically, and give the performace the appearance of a popular success. But if he were dissatisfied or ignored, there would be disturbances whistling, jeering, and the shouting of insults. The custom was so firmly established that even the biggest stars paid the claques, not for their unnecessary applause, but to avoid trouble and disturbance at a critical performance. [All] theatres were subject to the blackmail of these gangsters; the people were helpless.
Chaliapin himself was once visited by the leader of the Milan claque who demanded payment in advance to ensure a good reception for his performance. The response? A few moments later the claque leader found himself rolling down the stairs.
Things were quite different at the private court theatres. Encores could be performed only if requested by the sovereign, and even applause was discouraged. The audience was not even allowed to laugh at comic operas. Attending Court opera was very dull indeed!
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Revised 2005
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