This note was originally written for the San Francisco Opera production of "Così fan tutte"

This production of Così fan tutte was conceived as the middle chapter of a trilogy of operas dubbed The Great American House of Mozart-Da Ponte. We [San Francisco Opera and I] set all three works by this masterful composer-librettist team in the same place but spaced 150 years apart. The first piece, The Marriage of Figaro, sees the construction of a mansion somewhere in the northeastern US in the late 1780s, shortly after the American Revolution. It is a story about hope and possibility, and setting it amidst the building of a great house represents the beginning of a wonderful and challenging journey for the characters and their country. The final opera, Don Giovanni, is about finality and consequence. The time setting is the late 2080s, a dystopian near future, and the great house (and the world) now sits in ruins. This is the result of the short-sighted pursuit of selfish and destructive goals, as personified by the title character, and it ends the trilogy on a cautionary note. 

Così fan tutte belongs in the middle and stands easily on its own merits because it examines people—and a society—at a crossroads. The great house has changed hands many times in the 150 years since it was built. Now it stands at the peak of its form, repurposed as a luxurious country club in the late 1930s. America, too, finds itself in an era of great transition. It has emerged from the Great Depression only to see the winds of war swirling once again in Europe. It is poised at a crossroads of its own, needing to decide between inward-looking isolationism or a rightful place among the great nations on the world stage. 

The two couples at the heart of the story, meanwhile, remain oblivious to these larger forces. They care only about what they have and what they want. The men are inexperienced, overconfident, privileged, and sheltered. This is the perfect set of preconditions for disaster when it comes to life choices. The sisters to whom they’re engaged share some of the same character flaws—but unlike the men, they do not enter into the central wager of the opera from a position of control. Instead, they are subjected to a cruel experiment, one in which they have neither the power to set the terms nor the full knowledge to make informed decisions. 

In a world that so often polices women’s desires while excusing men’s recklessness, Così fan tutte presents a troubling yet fascinating study in power and agency. The opera’s very title—“Thus do all women”—reflects a historical impulse to generalize, dismiss, and control female behavior. Yet, a deeper reading reveals that the men’s fickleness, arrogance and lack of foresight are just as damning as the supposed inconstancy of the women. If the sisters fail a test of loyalty, it is only because they were coerced into playing a game they did not know was being rigged against them. Their struggle, then, is not just about fidelity but about the fundamental injustice of being manipulated for someone else’s amusement and moral education. 

While the opera is often interpreted as a light comedy, its themes take on new weight when we consider the expectations historically placed upon women. Fiordiligi and Dorabella are expected to be unwavering in their love, while Ferrando and Guglielmo are given the freedom to deceive, to test, and ultimately to forgive themselves. The entire game is played for their development. What of the women’s growth? Their desires? Their understanding of love on their own terms? The so-called School for Lovers is one in which the women must learn resilience in the face of humiliation, while the men learn only that their own egos are more fragile than they realized. These dynamics are echoed by the servant-elders who initiate and operationalize the game.  

This dynamic extends beyond romance—it is a reflection of broader societal structures. If we focus solely on personal choices, we’re doomed to fail as a community. An individual’s rights and freedoms are important, of course, but they must exist within a framework that supports and secures the common good. A society that devalues or deceives half its members in the name of preserving tradition or testing loyalty will inevitably struggle to sustain itself. 

This, in big ways and small, is the lesson of Così fan tutte. The subtitle of the opera is La scuola degli amanti or The School for Lovers, and it has something to teach us all. We cannot (or should not) live our lives only in the moment, and only for ourselves. We should not live in a fantasy world, with an idealized version of our future—especially not one built on false assumptions about gender, love, or power. We must take a clear-eyed look at ourselves and those around us, recognizing who has the agency to make choices and who is being forced to adapt to a world not of their making. Only by acknowledging these imbalances can we begin to address them—whether as partners in a relationship, members of a household, or even as a nation navigating its place in history. 

The alternative leads, inevitably, to confusion, anxiety, disappointment, and distress—or worse. But with Mozart and Da Ponte as our guides, we can find in Così fan tutte not only a cautionary tale but an opportunity to rethink the lessons we teach and the values we uphold. 

—Michael Cavanagh, Original Production, and Shawna Lucey, Stage Director 

To hear Shawna Lucey on her approach to directing  Così fan tutte watch this video: