Opera Gianni Schicchi, Program Notes, Sheet Music and recordings

Program Notes & Analysis

The Devil's Comedy: Puccini's Perfect Swindle

When Puccini set out to create Il trittico, a program of three one-act operas, he intended to show the full range of his genius. He provided a dark, gritty verismo thriller (Il tabarro), a transcendent, spiritual tragedy (Suor Angelica), and, as the brilliant finale, this sparkling, cynical comedy. From the moment Il trittico premiered in New York in 1918, Gianni Schicchi was the undeniable smash hit. It was a total departure for the man who had given the world the heartbreaking Mimì, Tosca, and Butterfly. Here, Puccini was not interested in tears, but in laughter—and the laughter is sharp, brilliant, and biting. The librettist, Giovacchino Forzano, found the perfect subject: a real-life 13th-century Florentine named Gianni Schicchi, a man so infamous for impersonating a dead man to steal his fortune that Dante Alighieri placed him in the eighth circle of Hell. Puccini and Forzano perform a brilliant act of theatrical rehabilitation. They take this damned sinner and, in 55 minutes, transform him into an ingenious folk hero, a champion of cleverness and young love against the forces of old, greedy, hypocritical "nobility."

A Modern Opera Buffa

With Schicchi, Puccini proves he is the equal of Italy's greatest comic masters, Gioachino Rossini (The Barber of Seville) and Donizetti. The opera is a direct descendant of the classic opera buffa, but updated with a modern, 20th-century engine. The pacing is relentless, a true allegro from start to finish. The score is built on fast, speech-like parlante singing, where the music perfectly mimics the characters' anxious, chattering conversations. The opening scene is a masterpiece of dark comedy: the Donati family is "mourning" the dead Buoso, but their "sobs" are a grotesque, insincere parody of a funeral dirge, while their eyes and hands are already searching the room for the will. This is a score about action, not just emotion. It is the antithesis of the long, philosophical epics of Richard Wagner; it is a taut, perfect, clockwork machine of comedy.

The Aria Heard 'Round the World: "O mio babbino caro"

In the middle of this cynical, high-speed farce, Puccini does something brilliant: he stops the clock for two and a half minutes and gives the audience the single most famous "Puccini moment" he ever wrote. "O mio babbino caro" (Oh, my dear daddy) is a masterpiece of dramatic irony. It is not, as it is often performed, a grand declaration of love. It is a perfectly crafted, emotionally manipulative "negotiation." Lauretta sings it to her father, Schicchi, who has just been insulted by the snobbish Donati family and is refusing to help them. She, a simple girl, threatens him with the most over-the-top, dramatic gesture she can think of: if he doesn't help them (so she can marry Rinuccio and get a dowry), she will throw herself in the Arno River. Puccini, the master manipulator, gives his audience this one perfect, unforgettable "hit" of pure, sentimental melody—a brief, lyrical pause that is all the more beautiful for the sharp, cynical opera that surrounds it. It, of course, works perfectly, both on Schicchi and on the audience.

A Score for a City

The music perfectly captures the "class" conflict at the opera's heart. The Donati family is "old money," and their music is often stiff and archaic. The "newcomers," Schicchi and Lauretta, are from the "common" folk, and their music is fresh and vital. This is best expressed in Rinuccio's (Lauretta's suitor) great aria, "Firenze è come un albero fiorito" (Florence is like a flowering tree). As his snobbish family insults Schicchi, Rinuccio defends him, singing a passionate, soaring ode to Florence, arguing that the city's greatness comes not from its old, "dead" families, but from its "new men," its clever, striving populace from the countryside—men just like Gianni Schicchi. Puccini's score is a masterpiece of ensemble writing. The "will reading" scene, where the relatives' horror at being disinherited builds into a chaotic, wailing chorus, is a brilliant piece of musical comedy, as is the final, masterful "dictation" scene.

A Warning from Hell, and a Wink to the Audience

The opera's climax is a masterstroke of theatrical timing. Schicchi, in bed and disguised as Buoso, dictates the new will to the notary. He begins by warning the relatives of the punishment for this crime: exile from Florence and the loss of a hand ("Addio, Firenze!" - "Farewell, Florence!"). He makes them all repeat the warning, implicating them in the fraud. He then proceeds to dictate the will, leaving the "minor" farms and trinkets to the various relatives, who are forced to mutter "Grazie!" (Thank you!) through gritted teeth. But for the "prizes"—the house in Florence, the mule, and the mills—he dictates, "I leave... to my dear, devoted, and loving friend... Gianni Schicchi!" The relatives are apoplectic, but they are trapped. As soon as the notary leaves, Schicchi, now the master of the house, grabs a stick and chases them out. The opera ends with Schicchi turning, breaking the fourth wall, and addressing the audience directly. He asks for their forgiveness. He points to the young lovers, Lauretta and Rinuccio, who are now singing a gorgeous, soaring love duet, their future secured by his crime. "Could you imagine a better use for Buoso's money?" he asks. "For this, I was sent to Hell... but, with your permission... if you have enjoyed yourselves... an extenuating circumstance... grant me your applause!" It is a perfect, subversive ending from a master of theater.

The Story of the Opera

Gianni Schicchi is a single, continuous act.

Scene: Florence, 1299. Buoso Donati's bedroom.

The wealthy Buoso Donati has just died. His greedy relatives are gathered around his bed, performing a comically exaggerated, insincere display of mourning. They are all secretly desperate to find his last will and testament. They frantically search the room, and the young Rinuccio finally discovers the will. The family, led by Buoso's eldest cousin, Zita, huddles together to read it. Their worst fears are confirmed: Buoso has left his entire vast fortune to the monks of a local monastery. The relatives, who had been "mourning" in a false minor key, now erupt into a genuine, full-throated wail of despair.

Rinuccio, who is in love with Gianni Schicchi's daughter, Lauretta, suggests there is only one man in Florence clever enough to help them: Gianni Schicchi. The snobbish, "noble" Donati family is horrified at the idea of inviting such a low-class "peasant" into their home, but Rinuccio defends him in a passionate aria, "Firenze è come un albero fiorito" (Florence is like a flowering tree), praising the "new men" who make the city great. He has already sent for Schicchi.

Gianni Schicchi and his daughter, Lauretta, arrive. Schicchi immediately understands the situation and is amused by the family's hypocrisy. Zita, enraged, insults him, and he proudly refuses to help. He is about to leave when Rinuccio begs him to stay, and Lauretta, in a final, brilliant gambit, sings her famous aria, "O mio babbino caro" (Oh, my dear daddy). She begs him to help, or else she will throw herself off the Ponte Vecchio into the Arno River.

Schicchi, his heart melted (and his clever mind intrigued), agrees. His plan forms instantly. First, he clears the room of all but the family. He confirms that no one outside the room knows that Buoso is dead. He then has the body removed to another room. He orders the family to send for the notary, claiming that Buoso has taken a turn for the worse and wishes to dictate a new will.

The doctor arrives. Schicchi, hiding in the bed and imitating Buoso's weak voice, tricks the doctor into believing he is recovering, and the doctor leaves, satisfied. Schicchi then warns the family of the severe penalty in Florence for being an accomplice to falsifying a will: exile, and the loss of a hand. He makes them all repeat the warning, "Addio, Firenze!"

The notary and two witnesses arrive. Schicchi, in a high, quavering voice, dictates the new will. He starts by revoking all previous wills. He then bequeaths the minor family properties, one by one, to the various relatives, who are forced to accept the small gifts with muttered, furious thanks. But when it comes to the most valuable assets—the prized mule, the house in Florence, and the mills at Signa—Schicchi pauses, and dictates: "I leave... to my dear, devoted, loving friend... Gianni Schicchi!"

The relatives are speechless with rage but can do nothing for fear of the notary. As soon as the notary and witnesses leave, they explode, accusing Schicchi of theft. Schicchi, now the legal owner of the house, picks up a stick and chases them all out, shouting "Get out of my house!" As they flee, he steals the last of the silver. The stage is now empty, save for the two young lovers, Rinuccio and Lauretta, who are embracing on the balcony, singing a passionate, soaring duet about their love and the beauty of Florence. Their future is secure.

Gianni Schicchi returns, holding his stolen goods. He smiles as he watches the lovers. He then turns directly to the audience, breaks the fourth wall, and asks them to forgive his crime, citing the "extenuating circumstance" of a happy ending. He asks: "Dante damned me for this... but, with your permission... if you have enjoyed yourselves... grant me your applause!"