Don Giovanni       Alfred Boe
Donna Anna         Rebecca Watson
Donna Elvira       Jessica Lindberg
Donna Ximena       Saffron van Zwanenberg
Il Commendatore    Jose Gallisa
Duca Ottavio       Andre Vidal
Maturina           Ludmilla Marchadier
Pasquariello       Grant Doyle
Biagio             James Rutherford
Lanterna           Mark Guerin

Royal Academy of Music Chorus and Symphonia

Conductor          Michael Rosewell
Producer           Tim Carroll
Designer           Soutra Gilmour


Gazzaniga's Don Giovanni appeared in Venice eight months before Mozart's in
Prague. An opera buffa of the Neapolitan school, its plot follows the same
broad outline, but it's played for laughs most of the time. Donna Anna
enters a convent and disappears after rejecting Ottavio when her father is
killed; there's no vorrei e non vorrei about Maturina (Zerlina) -- she's in
hot pursuit of Don Giovanni, after an initial recce of Pasquariello
(Leporello), and Biagio (Massetto) disappears as well; Donna Ximena is also
in hot pursuit, there's a "real" comic servant for Pasquiarello to look
down on, and Donna Elvira and Maturina end the first act with a splendid
catfight. (Elvira says Maturina is smelly, Maturina says that Elvira's
bosom -- I think I understood this right -- is less than pert.)

But there is a catalogue aria, and the catalogue, amusingly pushed through
the louvres of a door on to the stage in this production, is also all
that's left of Don Giovanni after the Commendatore's ghost has darned him
to heck. (The music isn't remotely scary.) Donna Elvira tells Don Giovanni
what she thinks of him to his face. And there are some mildly infectious,
though not terribly memorable melodies that seem to have Mozart's
mannerisms but not his dramatic power. The catalogue aria, for instance,
consists of repeated stanzas of baritone jollity, without the illustrative
settings for the different types of women.  The countryfolk's wedding song
is strikingly traditional sounding, though it could be Russian, and the
final sextet (with Donna Ximena instead of Donna Anna, and Lanterno the
extra servant) amusingly plays on the idea of converting the list into
music, in a cheerful accumulation of jokes and music.

The production in the theatre at the Royal Academy of Music was minimal,
and very neat. The set consisted of two tiers of louvred doors, five on
each level, which served as doors and windows to the houses, or as frames
for commentary action. One clever use involved Donna Anna walking across
one door in her normal dress and immediately across the next dressed as a
nun. The costumes were roughly conventional 1780s, or Warner Bros
equivalent -- Alfred Boe had a touch of Errol Flynn -- and the women's wigs
were outrageous.

The singing and performances generally were impressive. Alfred Boe looked
dashing and didn't quite mug as Don Giovanni, even when the production
seemed to ask him to. Grant Doyle was loud and merry as Pasquariello, and
the two of them seemed to have a great time with the Bridisi, addressed
directly to (the ladies in) the audience. Jessica Lindberg as Donna Elvira
and Saffron van Zwanenberg were a matched comic pair, and Ludmila
Marchadier looked, acted and sounded cute as Maturina. Jose Gallisa sounded
doom-laden as the Commendatore.

Altogether good fun. Italian opera (from Italy) from this period seems to
be neglected. My impression is that this would be as good a bet as Viennese
operetta or Gilbert and Sullivan for an entertaining, accessible production
to be done with fairly limited resources.

Of course, this made me appreciate Mozart's ability to get emotion into the
simplest seeming melodic lines and harmonic progressions. And even more it
made me appreciate Da Ponte's brilliant exploration of the consequences of
Don Giovanni's seductions on all involved, and in particular the growth of
Elvira's moral authority, the confusions of Ottavio and Anna and the comic
but psychologically plausible reconciliation of Zerlina and Massetto with a
bit of wife beating. This production hinted at these things in a tableau at
the end, which also included a couple more abandoned and pregnant women.
But the libretto and music don't touch the human aspects of Don Giovanni's
exploits at all.

Still, it's an enjoyable way not to hear about England v. Romania or Louise
Woodward.