Run Time: Approx. 5 minutes

Mozart’s opera The Marriage of Figaro is based on the play The Mad Day, or the Marriage of Figaro by French playwright Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais. Written in 1778, the comedy had become rather popular across Europe, in part because of its risqué content. The story combines sharp political satire heavily criticizing aristocratic privilege, with overt sexual themes; it angered Louis XVI so much that it was banned in France for three years. Though fairly tame by today’s standards, it rather scandalized the 18th-century bourgeoisie, so naturally, audiences were clamoring to see it.

And so, when Mozart was seeking a story on which to base a new opera, he and librettist Lorenzo Da Ponte were unsurprisingly drawn to the alluring tale. Da Ponte, with whom Mozart would go on to collaborate on two more operas, removed much of the political commentary, likely to avoid provoking King Louis’s censorious quill, but the raciness remained, providing just the right amount of ridiculous sauce to delight the then-29-year-old Mozart.

The story unfolds over the course of a single day. Figaro—now a valet in Count Almaviva’s household, years after the events of Rossini’s The Barber of Seville (based on another play by the same author)—is preparing to marry a maid named Susanna. The trouble is that the Count is bent on seducing her first, and when the Countess discovers his plan, she sets out to teach him a lesson. Naturally, chaos ensues. The farcical comedy has much the same sense of humor as Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, full of mistaken identity, poorly executed disguises, and all sorts of ridiculous antics.

The music Mozart composed for his overture uses no material from the opera itself, yet it perfectly captures the tone of what the audience is about to witness. Right from the outset, it’s bustling and frenetic, evoking the mood of a busy household preparing for a lavish wedding. But Mozart, like his characters, gets up to a bit of mischief. The opening theme in the bassoons and strings almost seems to chase itself, scrambling after its own tail. Then—bam! The brass and timpani pounce and the orchestra comes barreling in. Everyone’s caught in a musical game of cat and mouse. Throughout the overture, the mood shifts at lightning speed. At times, there are unexpected accents on “wrong” beats that serve as little musical jump scares. Mozart is playing with the audience the same way the characters are about to chase each other around the stage. It’s a perfect prelude to the chaos to come, and a brilliant little microcosm of the opera itself.