Opera Cosi fan tutte K588 Program Notes, Sheet Music and recordings

Program Notes & Analysis

A Frivolous Farce or a Profound Human Comedy?

In the wake of the grand political satire of Le nozze di Figaro and the supernatural, moral drama of Don Giovanni, Mozart’s final collaboration with Lorenzo Da Ponte seems, on the surface, to be a step back. Così fan tutte is an intimate, almost clinical "laboratory" opera, with only six characters and a plot that is perfectly, artificially symmetrical. The legend, though likely untrue, is that the opera was commissioned by Emperor Joseph II himself, based on a real-life "wager" that had amused the Viennese court. Whether the story was an original invention of Da Ponte's or not, it represented a new direction. It was not about class warfare or divine justice; it was about the uncomfortable, irrational, and fickle nature of the human heart. For this reason, it has been Mozart’s most controversial opera, a work whose sublime music and cynical subject have been at war with each other for over 200 years.

The "School for Lovers": A Cynical Wager

The opera’s subtitle is "La scuola degli amanti" (The School for Lovers), and the entire plot is a cruel, elaborate lesson. The schoolmaster is the old philosopher Don Alfonso, who holds that female fidelity is a myth. His "students" are the two young, idealistic officers, Ferrando and Guglielmo, who are so certain of their fiancées' loyalty that they accept a wager. Alfonso, as the stage manager of this human drama, then proceeds to systematically dismantle their blissful ignorance. With the help of the maid Despina—a practical, worldly-wise "graduate" of his school—he sets a perfect trap. The opera’s premise is that of a scientific experiment: remove the established partners, introduce a new variable (the "Albanians"), apply pressure, and observe the inevitable, disastrous result. The work asks a truly disturbing question: is fidelity a natural virtue, or is it merely an illusion, a "phoenix" that only exists in fables?

A Troubled Reception: An "Immoral" Masterpiece

The 19th century, in particular, was appalled by this opera. The Romantic era was built on ideals of grand passion, sincerity, and unwavering moral clarity. Così fan tutte seemed to mock all of it. To them, the plot was not just light; it was immoral, degrading, and an insult to the sanctity of love. Ludwig van Beethoven famously told his pupil that he "ought not to have... squandered his genius" on such a "frivolous" subject. Richard Wagner, while admiring the music, dismissed the libretto as "miserable." For nearly a hundred years, the opera was either ignored or performed in butchered versions with entirely new librettos, where the women, for example, would recognize their lovers' disguises from the start, turning the whole affair into a lighthearted joke. This historical rejection only highlights the work's radical, unsettling nature. It was only in the 20th century, with its newfound appreciation for psychological ambiguity, that Così was re-evaluated as the profound, dark, and complex masterpiece it truly is.

The Genius of the Ensemble

The true star of Così fan tutte is not a single character, but the ensemble. More than any other Mozart opera, this one is built on a seamless, flowing stream of duets, trios, quartets, quintets, and, most famously, the two massive, complex sextets that bring each act to a close. The solo arias, though magnificent, are almost islands in this communal river of music. The ensembles are what drive the plot, reveal the characters' inner thoughts, and create the opera's unique, ironic texture. The supreme example is the Act I trio, "Soave sia il vento" (May the wind be gentle). As the men pretend to sail off to war, the two sisters and Don Alfonso sing a farewell of such sublime, breathtaking, and almost sacred beauty that it seems to stop time. It is a piece of music that belongs in a cathedral. And yet, two of the three singers are completely lying. Alfonso is savoring his plot, and the women are grieving for a departure that is itself a fiction. This is Mozart’s genius at its peak: using the most heartbreakingly beautiful music to create the most profound, cutting irony.

A Perfect, Artificial Symmetry

The opera's structure is a model of 18th-century classical balance. There are two pairs of lovers: the noble, "serious" Fiordiligi and the more flighty, "romantic" Dorabella. Their fiancés are corresponding opposites: Ferrando is the lyrical, passionate tenor, while Guglielmo is the more boastful, pragmatic baritone. Mozart provides each with showcase arias that are perfectly tailored. In Act I, Fiordiligi gets the grand, defiant "Come scoglio" (Like a rock), a parody of the old opera seria style, full of wild vocal leaps and stern pronouncements of her immovable fidelity. Dorabella, by contrast, gets the stormy, impulsive "Smanie implacabili." After Dorabella is the first to succumb to the "Albanians," Fiordiligi is left alone, and her guilt and wavering resolve are captured in the magnificent rondo "Per pietà, ben mio, perdona," a far more human, complex, and vulnerable aria. The entire opera is a perfect, clockwork machine, a precisely engineered device for testing the human heart.

The Unsettling Modernity of "Così"

Why does this opera, more than Figaro or Don Giovanni, still feel so modern and unsettling? Because it ends with a question mark. The disguises are revealed, the women are shamed, and the men are furious. But in the final, brief, and almost formal-sounding sextet, they all agree to forgive and forget. Don Alfonso has won his bet. He instructs the lovers to re-pair and go to the altar, because "he who can find a faithful woman is a phoenix... let them be, what they are!" But the music is not a joyous, full-hearted reconciliation. It is subdued, formal, and deeply ambiguous. Did the lovers swap back to their original partners, or did they, as many modern productions suggest, stay with their new partners? Mozart and Da Ponte give us no easy answer. The "School for Lovers" has ended, but the students have only learned how fragile their ideals are. It is this refusal to provide a simple, moral, "happily ever after" that makes Così fan tutte feel like a precursor to the complex, psychological stage works of the 20th century. Its blend of sublime music and uncomfortable truths makes it, perhaps, the most timeless and daring of all of Mozart’s operas.

The Story of the Opera

A Wager, Two Disguises, and "The School for Lovers"

Act I

In a café in Naples, two young officers, Ferrando and Guglielmo, are praising the unwavering fidelity of their fiancées, the sisters Dorabella and Fiordiligi. Their cynical old friend, Don Alfonso, laughs at their naivety, stating that all women are fickle by nature ("Così fan tutte"). He wagers 100 sequins that he can prove the sisters are unfaithful in less than 24 hours. The officers, outraged and confident, accept the bet.

The scene changes to the sisters' home, where they are admiring portraits of their fiancés. Don Alfonso arrives with "terrible" news: the officers have been suddenly called off to war. Ferrando and Guglielmo arrive, acting out a scene of heartbreaking (and false) farewell. The sisters are distraught. As the men's ship "sails away," the two sisters and Don Alfonso sing the beautiful, justly famous trio "Soave sia il vento" (May the wind be gentle), praying for a safe voyage.

The sisters' clever maid, Despina, arrives and scolds them for moping. She advises them that with the men away, it's the perfect time to find new lovers and enjoy themselves. The sisters are shocked by her cynicism. Don Alfonso, who has bribed Despina to be his accomplice, then introduces two "exotic Albanian noblemen." It is, of course, Ferrando and Guglielmo in ridiculous disguises. The "Albanians" immediately declare their love for the sisters. Fiordiligi, the more resolute of the two, furiously rejects them in her grand, defiant aria "Come scoglio" (Like a rock, I stand firm).

Undeterred, Don Alfonso and the "Albanians" try a new tactic. The men pretend to take poison in despair over their rejection. They collapse. Alfonso and Despina rush in, and Despina, now disguised as a doctor (a parody of the quack scientist Dr. Franz Mesmer), "revives" the men with a giant, buzzing magnet. The "Albanians," now "recovering," demand a kiss from the sisters as a "cure." The act ends in a chaotic, confused ensemble as the sisters try to fend off the men's advances.

Act II

Despina continues to work on her mistresses, convincing them that a harmless flirtation is perfectly natural and won't hurt anyone. Dorabella, the more impulsive of the two sisters, is the first to be convinced. They decide to humor the "Albanians," and, in a moment of symmetry, each "swaps" partners: Dorabella chooses Guglielmo (her sister's fiancé), and Fiordiligi is left with Ferrando (her own fiancé in disguise).

The scene splits. Guglielmo has a much easier time, successfully wooing Dorabella in the garden. She quickly succumbs and gives him a locket (containing Ferrando's portrait) in exchange for a new heart-shaped pendant. Meanwhile, Ferrando has a much harder time with the "rock-like" Fiordiligi. She is wracked with guilt and sings her magnificent aria, "Per pietà, ben mio, perdona," begging her absent lover, Guglielmo, to forgive her for her wavering heart. However, Ferrando redoubles his efforts with a passionate plea, and finally, she too gives in.

The two men meet to compare notes. Guglielmo is smug, having only "proof" of Dorabella's infidelity, and teases Ferrando. But his smugness turns to rage when Ferrando reveals that Fiordiligi, his "rock," has also fallen. Don Alfonso, having won his bet, tells them to calm down—this is just what women do.

The final deception is prepared. The sisters, now fully committed, agree to marry the "Albanians." A double wedding is arranged. Despina, now disguised as a notary public, presents the marriage contract, and the sisters sign it. At that very instant, the sound of a military march is heard from a distance. Alfonso "discovers" that the men are "returning" from the war. Panicked, the sisters hide their "Albanian" husbands. Ferrando and Guglielmo re-enter, now as themselves, "back from the war."

They greet their fiancées, who are almost catatonic with fear. Alfonso "accidentally" discovers the marriage contract. The men feign horror and rage. The sisters, terrified and ashamed, confess their "error." The men, vowing revenge, storm out, only to return seconds later, half in their "Albanian" costumes, revealing the entire plot. Despina is unmasked as the notary. The sisters realize, with horror, the full extent of the deception.

The opera ends as Don Alfonso, having won, collects his money. He delivers the opera's cynical moral: fidelity is a myth, and they should all just accept human nature. He urges the couples to forgive and forget. In a final, subdued ensemble, the four lovers are reunited, but the music is so formal and the reconciliation so quick that it leaves the audience wondering if "happily ever after" is even possible.