Le nozze di Figaro was the first of Mozart’s three collaborations with the Italian librettist Lorenzo Da Ponte. When they first met in 1783, Mozart was eager to compose an opera buffa, or comic opera, and had been searching for an appropriate libretto. According to Da Ponte’s memoirs, the selection of Beaumarchais’s French play Le mariage de Figaro was Mozart’s idea—an interesting choice given the political controversy surrounding the work’s plot. The play had likely been completed by 1778. But when it was accepted for performance by the Comédie-Français in 1781, Louis XVI banned the piece amid rumors of its highly charged political content. The play finally reached the public stage on April 27, 1784, and according to all accounts, it was an enormous success.

Beaumarchais’s play was also met with much hesitancy in Vienna. Emperor Joseph II banned the performance of the work in January 1785, but he permitted the publication of an unabridged German translation later that year. When Da Ponte approached Joseph II about turning the play into an opera, he assured the Emperor that he would omit or shorten “anything that could offend the sensibility and decency of a spectacle at which His Sovereign Majesty presides.” The libretto does some of this, but it also leaves behind the trace of some sensitive political and social issues.

The biggest concern for the play’s opponents was Figaro’s bold political speech in the last act where he denounces the scheming ways of women and attacks the establishment of rulers, magistrates, and censors. Da Ponte did cut this political rant, leaving Figaro’s reproach of womanly deceit, his Act IV aria “Aprite un po’ quegli occhi / uomini incauti e sciocchi” (Open your eyes, you rash and foolish men). Another issue that raised caution was the Count’s “droit de seigneur,” or his right to deflower any woman in his domain. (In fact, this right was the product of Beaumarchais’ imagination.) The combination of these issues—Figaro’s speech and the Count’s corrupted pursuits—formed an unmistakable allegory of the tyranny and egotistical cruelty of many political authorities. Yet, with the omission of Figaro’s verbal attacks, Joseph II granted the production of Mozart and Da Ponte’s opera, which premiered on May 1, 1786.

But even without Figaro’s speech, Le nozze di Figaro still carried enormous political and social weight. This is encountered in two ways: the nobilities’ attitudes toward those of a lower social rank and the potential danger of servants who outwit their masters. The latter is especially evident in Figaro’s Act I aria “Se vuol ballare,” which is set as a stately minuet and declares Figaro’s intention to overthrow the Count’s plan. The choice of a minuet here is an ironic one: it explicitly mocks the courtly dance ritual and features a text that teases his master’s tyranny in saying “Dear Count, if you feel like dancing, I shall call the tune.”

What follows are a number of comic episodes, many of which intended to trick the Count. Susanna and Figaro must fool the Count to have their wedding; Susanna and the Countess must scheme to keep Cherubino hidden from the Count. They must also trick the Count into thinking he’s with Susanna in the garden when, in fact, he is with the Countess. This notion of servants fooling their master must have been troublesome for many political officials in the eighteenth century, but, nevertheless, it certainly provides the fundamental comic element of the work.

Another way Mozart and Da Ponte realize political issues in the opera is through the variety of aria styles sung by each of the main characters. In the beginning of the opera, the separation of class rank between the servants (Figaro and Susanna) and the masters (the Count and Countess) is distinctive. Figaro’s “Se vuol ballare,” for example, fits within the rhythmic confines of the minuet, which does not allow much emotional (or melodic) freedom. The same is true for his aria “Non piu andrai” heard at the end of Act I, which is in another dance style: the march. Not only is Figaro restricted by the set rhythm, but the violins of the orchestra play his melody along with him. These constrained limitations of Figaro’s arias form an interesting parallel to his social status of a servant.

Figaro’s “Non piu andrai,” and the beginning of Act II, the Countess’s “Porgi, amor,” form a juxtaposition that clearly separates the high and low social classes. The latter aria employs particularly rich textures and a poignant lyricism from the orchestra, and the Countess’s melody features the elegance and refined dignity of her class. Following her aria, Susanna enters, and we witness an unusual, quite friendly relationship between a master and servant. Indeed, throughout the opera, there is nothing to demonstrate the class separation between them. Susanna frequently sings higher than the Countess, and in their Act III duet “Sull’ aria,” they both sing equal amounts of music. This equality of musical material means more than just the number of notes, it demonstrates that the characters—regardless of their class—experience the same degrees of emotion and can express them equally.

The arias in Act IV further demonstrate that the separations of class have dissolved. This is especially evident in Susanna’s aria “Deh vieni, non tardar,” which, like the Countess’s “Porgi amor,” allows the singer the utmost emotional freedom with expressive vocal leaps and dramatic pauses. Also, both arias feature the woodwind instruments, whose lyrical melodies gracefully accompany their voices.

The opera’s gradual elevation of Susanna’s and Figaro’s aria styles highlight a message of social equality that was not possible with the story’s original theatrical form. There is no doubt that these musical settings both diminish the highly held prominence of political authorities and raise the perceived emotional capacities of the lower classes. Certainly, the opera continues to hold relevance to today’s society, where one is frequently reminded of cultural inequalities and difference. But, as the opera shows us, these divisions can be broken and—according to the final chorus—can only end in contentment and joy.