Mozart’s Don Giovanni is certainly not alone as a problematic opera in relation to sex, gender and consent. And it was challenging to audiences at the time, although perhaps not for the same reasons. It certainly challenged the neat world-view of the Enlightenment and raised many questions about individual pursuit of pleasure and a belief in the supernatural. So what to do when presenting such a work in the modern day? There are perhaps two choices here – either show it fairly straight, as of its time, or try to make a new critical point in the way it is staged. But if you go for the latter, it is key that the point is clear and coherent if it is to make sense to the audience.
In Glyndebourne’s recent production, premiered in the main festival, but back for the autumn run (revived by Paul Higgins), director Mariame Clément clearly wants to make a highly valid point about the unglamourous reality of a serial rapist, and why he is allowed to get away with his crimes. Leporello is clearly an enabler here, but so are other characters who seem able to turn a blind eye to his misdemeanours for a considerable time. But there is so much going on here – keys standing in for gravestone inscriptions (why?), dead body chalk outlines flashing up in lights, rapist masks and a rotting 10-foot high cake topped with the number 2075 (again, why?), to name but a few. And herein lies the problem. There is too much in this scattergun approach to try and tie together into a coherent argument. And if we have to scrabble to understand or explain such detail, then that argument is sadly lost.
In Act 1, I wanted to stick with the emerging argument. Yes, we should feel profoundly uncomfortable about the graphic display of disembodied breasts on the walls, symbols of Don Giovanni’s faceless conquests. And the chorus of hormonally overexcited hen and stag parties, obliviously marauding the corridors of the hotel set, then later pairing off into rooms, made some sense. But as the opera progressed, there was too much to have to explain, and by Act 2, I had lost the will to persevere with the argument.
We are used to maybe being won over by the charm and charisma of Giovanni, but here Andrei Bondarenko upped the sleaze factor, presenting him as uniformly unlikeable. And if recasting his serenading of Elvira’s maid (not present in this production) as some sort of song to his mother (or was it another of his conquests holding his baby? I don’t know) was an attempt to explain his behaviour, then this again undermined the central argument. Nonetheless, Bondarenko was nimble in voice and tone throughout. Sam Carl’s Leporello (complete with Columbo mac) was equally convincing vocally, although the reason for his costume was never clear (and even less clear was Don Giovanni being surrounding by a circle of Leporellos for his descent into hell).
Both Kseniia Proshina as Donna Anna and Alexandra Lowe as Donna Elvira gave strong performances. Proshina showed the full range of emotions, with fear and anger uppermost, with impressively steely coloratura in Act 2. Lowe by contrast gave us real despair and anguish in her tone, although her portrayed unwillingness to reject Giovanni despite all evidence to the contrary is always one the opera’s most problematic elements. Charlotte Bowden’s Zerlina had a good mix of naivety and growing knowledge of her influence over men, and Michael Ronan’s Masetto combined well a certain innocence with pent-up frustration, both of them bright and assertive vocally. Nico Darmanin's Don Ottavio benefited well from the increased presence given to his role here and, as the only tenor role, his clear, ringing tone stood out too. Ivo Stanchev as the Commendatore had strong initial presence, although his return at the end was rather underwhelming, and his death at the hands of Giovanni was unconvincing, looking more like he had a minor fall on the stairs.
The chorus performed well, despite lots of walking on and off set, not always for any real purpose. And their final costumes of coloured tee-shirts looked a little like they’d just been asked to bring something in from home. Stephanie Childress conducted with energy and panache, and on the whole, ensemble was tight, and the complex sextets, septets and chain finales were given strong energy and drive. Musically strong performances all round, but ultimately too much extraneous detail undermined what could have been a strong critique for our times.
