Don Alfonso

Alfonso, Don (Mozart: Così fan tutte). Baritone/Bass. A cynical bachelor who bets his two friends (Guglielmo and Ferrando) that, given the right conditions, all women will be unfaithful. They agree to allow him 24 hours in which to prove his theory. This he does with the assistance of their fiancées' maid and with the men's full co-operation. He does win his bet, wreaking havoc on their relationships as his machinations bring together the ‘wrong’ pairs of lovers. Aria: Vorrei dir (‘I'd like to tell you’). Created (1790) by Francesco Bussani (whose wife created the maid, Despina).

DON ALFONSO

(Così fan tutte - Mozart)

by Thomas Allen

Cynicism may be present at various stages of an individual's development, but we tend to assume that the knocks and setbacks of life cause an increased encrustation of the cynical skin, becoming ever more severe as the years go by. And for that reason one normally associates the role of Don Alfonso with someone of more mature years and experience.

But one of the greatest problems for the singer taking on this role is to know how to manage the longueurs: the many moments when not occupied with singing or being an active participant in whatever is going on - in other words, the silent observer. I consider this to be the most forceful argument in favour of an artist of wide experience being cast in the role, as it would be rare indeed to find a bass, baritone, or bass-baritone of more tender years with sufficient confidence to appear happy doing nothing, seemingly, on stage.

The role of observer is in itself extremely interesting. With the proper concentration - and it is immediately obvious to an audience when an artist is ‘coasting’, or switching-off from something with which he appears not to be involved - the character of Alfonso takes on much more interesting aspects than one has traditionally associated with the man. He is the agent provocateur, the puppet-master of his two arrogant pupils, and, at the end of the opera, the butt of the rage and accusations of five individuals in their realizations and recriminations.

Vocally, too, there may be one or two misconceptions of the role. The choice of a lower, older voice has usually more to do with the need to have a contrasting colour to that of the baritone singing Guglielmo. The tessitura is not particularly low-lying, not like a Figaro or a Leporello, for example, much less so in fact than might be assumed from the way in which the part is traditionally cast. (A similar case could be made for the character of Dulcamara in Donizetti's L'elisir d'amore. Here again the nature of the part conveys a certain heavy buffo quality in contrast to Belcore, but the actual ‘lie’ of the vocal line is in the area more easily managed by a higher voice than a buffo bass.)

For Alfonso, my memories go back to a season spent in the Glyndebourne chorus. There the role was sung and played most beautifully by the Frenchman Michel Roux [Così fan tutte, 1969]. It fascinated me to watch the man in his 18th-cent. deportment, the elegant use of his cane, and the feminine waft of his lace handkerchief in his moment of mock despair revealing, to their more than gullible fiancées, the impending perils about to befall his two young gentlemen friends. That gullibility has been my own stumbling-block from the start with Così fan tutte, as it has been, I believe, for many of us. Many of the propositions we are asked to accept in the opera annoy, but there is no denying the beauty and correctness of every note of the music, even the rather dull - by Mozartian standards - finale to the second act, a Salieri-like composition in C major [Antonio Salieri (1750-1825), a composer and contemporary of Mozart's in Vienna], lacking (deliberately on Mozart's part) the champagne sparkle, as he tells us that, though six people are singing of a resolution, there is no joy here and the lacklustre nature of the orchestral writing tells us that, for these characters, nothing will ever be the same again. What other composer could suppress his brilliant best to convey such a point so vividly?

A final word in favour of the baritone Alfonso - is it not worth having that voice, for the easier approach to the first line of that sublime Act 1 trio with Fiordiligi and Dorabella, Soave sia il vento (‘May the wind be gentle’)? Many the bass Alfonso who has perspired at that moment!