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January 24, 2002
A safe and insane 'Don Giovanni'
Mozart's masterpiece is musically well served, but the Opera Pacific co-production misses some of its marks.
By TIMOTHY MANGAN, The Orange County Register
The tone of any production of "Don Giovanni" is set by the opening scene - the seduction (out of sight) of Donna Anna, the Don's escape and sword duel with her father, the Commendatore, ending in the latter's death.
So it was Tuesday, when Opera Pacific presented a new production of the work.
Here, it was a fairly nasty business. The duel is turning out badly for the Don (the Commendatore has seized both swords), so he pulls out a gun and blows his opponent away point blank. As Leporello and his master leave, he congratulates the Don on his twin accomplishments: a rape and a murder in one evening. "Sforzar la figlia" is often translated these days as "rape," though it hasn't always been. That, and the Don's cowardly way of winning the duel, put us out of sympathy with him.
Everyone is entitled to his or her own interpretation of this somewhat ambiguous scene, though we find out later from Donna Anna herself that there was no rape, and the duel is supposedly fought fair and square. We merely assert that you need to like the Don for this opera to work its spell. This is Don Juan, for Pete's sake, the world's most charming man. Why have thousands of women fallen for him?
William Shimell, an English baritone, rather chews the scenery as the Don, climaxing with a death scene as corny as a tortilla chip. Elsewhere, the Don proves so volatile, by turns brusque, threatening and tender, that you'd be afraid to look at him the wrong way. Suave, he ain't.
Shimell sings the "Champagne Aria" angrily (never heard that before) and the sweet mandolin canzonetta, "Deh, vieni alla finestra," with such intense emotion it's scary. Whenever the statue appears, he grabbed his head in pain. Oh, dear, this Don's psychotic.
Thor Steingraber, the man behind Los Angeles Opera's screwball "La Cenerentola," directs. Other than the central performance, he plays it all pretty close to the vest. This "Don Giovanni" is one of those co-production jobs, shared by four companies. It'll have to work in other opera houses, with other singers. As such, the singers are shuttled about gracefully and practically. The set design, by Riccardo Hernandez, is made for travel, too. Its clean lines and forced perspectives are handsome enough, if you don't mind looking at them all evening.
There weren't going to be many surprises. Luckily, the singing proved solid, occasionally more so. As is its wont, the company had enlisted a talented young singing cast.
Christine Goerke, as Donna Anna, took honors among the women. She's got a saturated, shimmering tone that opens up amply on top. She is able to pinpoint notes, too, and sang the role with welcome poise and restraint. Pamela Armstrong, last season's Pamina here, returned as Donna Elvira, negotiating the role's grueling vocal acrobatics with elegant fluidity, her less powerful low notes notwithstanding. Sari Gruber produced a pretty and petite Zerlina.
Shimell pushed his voice, too, sometimes to a touch of hoarseness. He labored through the fast bits of the "Champagne Aria." At ease, he possessed a rich, rounded voice.
Kyle Ketelsen as Leporello displayed agile phrasing and burnished sound. He sang a little too beautifully for the part, we thought. There's more comedy here, less manly tone. Robert Breault provided a sweet-colored and mellifluous Don Ottavio. Mark McCrory was a soft- grained Masetto, David Michael a not-so-imposing Commendatore. (The cast alternates this weekend.)
Conductor John DeMain kept it crisp and tidy and forceful in the pit, the score an open book. He was especially good in the accompanied recitatives. His tempos were occasionally on the swift side, but even these he made work.
The final scene didn't come off, though, musically or otherwise.
It's supposed to be a big party, but only Leporello and D.G. were present much of the time. It's supposed to have an onstage orchestra playing popular tunes, but the music emanated from the pit. The statue appeared behind a two-way mirror, so his voice was once removed. Thus the orchestra kept the lid on, too.
It was a long time to wait for an anti-climax.
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