Mozart Don Giovanni

Mr Mozart – La clemenza di Tito and Don Giovanni: two totally contrasting operas? 

Indeed. The first is a stately affair with one of the most widely used opera seria libretti, whereas the other is a dramma giocoso which draws on a bawdy farce we had all seen in suburban playhouses or on fairgrounds. 

So what do they have in common? 

Prague! There has always been a competitive relationship between the Bohemian capital and Vienna, in my days the centre of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, to which Bohemia was subjected. But music education and music in general flourished there for centuries, whereas in Vienna, much of it remained within aristocratic circles and the Imperial Court. And as you will know, most of these people were not particularly well disposed towards my work. Prague was different, and many excellent theatres there run by private companies. One of them invited me to oversee a run of my Figaro. Its tremendous success made them order a new opera from me directly. I chose Don Giovanni, a subject which of course raised eyebrows at the conservative Viennese Court. In Prague, on the other hand, everyone loved it and was delighted that I had been willing to compose an opera for them. And thus, another commission from Prague arrived four years later, this time from the Bohemian Estates and for the celebration of the coronation of the Austrian Emperor Leopold II as King of Bohemia. 

On the first night, the imperial couple arrived at the theatre one hour late. No wonder there was a restrained response from the audience… In the early 19th century, however, La clemenza di Tito became one of my most frequently performed operas! Later, it lost its following because the subject matter was considered outdated. Don Giovanni took the lead, together with The Magic Flute, which I composed at the same time as my Clemenza.

What about their music and style? 

In Don Giovanni, I developed my ideas about structure and style further. The dramatic flow of the story determines everything, the music propels the action forward, underlines and controls what happens with the characters. The words, which are very natural, often funny or lewd, helped me a lot. I have the fantastic Lorenzo Da Ponte to thank for this. 

But remember that in La clemenza di Tito, my librettist Caterino Mazzolà did a great job at tightening Metastasio’s plot and making the characters real. This story belongs to a forlorn age but I broke up the traditionally rigid succession of da capo arias to write more ensembles, bring in emotions, make it modern. 

I’d never claim that I preferred one of them to the other, though: both are my children, and each of them beloved in its own right!

Seville, 1600s

Act I

Scene 1

Donna Anna’s garden, at night.

Leporello is pacing up and down outside Donna Anna’s palace while Don Giovanni, his master, is inside attempting to seduce her. Leporello grumbles about his duties as Don Giovanni’s servant (introduction “Notte e giorno faticar”). The masked Don Giovanni suddenly appears, pursued by Donna Anna. She wants to know his identity and cries out for help (“Non sperar!”). Anna’s father, the Commendatore, comes to her rescue; Don Giovanni kills him in a duel (“Ah! soccorso!”), before fleeing with Leporello. Anna returns with her fiancé, Don Ottavio, and discovers her father’s body. Don Ottavio swears to avenge his death (accompanied recitative and duet “Ma qual mai s’offre, oh Dei / Fuggi, crudele, fuggi!”).

Scene 2

A street near the inn, at dawn.

Meanwhile Don Giovanni is looking for someone else to seduce, accompanied by his servant (recitative “Orsù, spicciati presto”). He notices a young woman who is alone and starts chatting to her. However, she is none other than Donna Elvira, whom he had once seduced, married and abandoned in Burgos (trio “Ah, che mi dice mai”). Don Giovanni escapes while Leporello enumerates to Elvira the long catalogue of his master’s conquests (Catalogue aria “Madamina, il catalogo è questo”).

Scene 3

The countryside, morning.

Villagers are preparing the nuptials of Zerlina and Masetto (chorus “Giovinette che fate all’amore”). Don Giovanni is attracted to the fiancée. He chases everyone away, but before leaving Masetto cries out his anger as he realizes what the Don’s intentions are (aria “Ho capito, signor sì”). Don Giovanni begins to apply his charm and Zerlina who, despite misgivings, begins to fall for his charm (duet “Là ci darem la mano”). Elvira arrives just in time to save the young girl (air “Ah, fuggi il traditor!”). She warns Anna and Ottavio, who meanwhile have just appeared, to beware of this man who has betrayed her. Don Giovanni tries in vain to convince them that Elvira is a mad woman. He leaves them (quartet “Non ti fidar”). Anna recognizes him as her father’s assassin. She tells her fiancé about the events leading up to the murder (accompanied recitative and aria “Don Ottavio, son morta! / Or sai chi l’onore”). Ottavio is overcome by her tale (aria “Dalla sua pace”). Leporello informs his master that the wedding guests have arrived and that he has managed to calm Masetto’s jealousy and get rid of Elvira, who had caused a scandal with her revelations. Don Giovanni is totally unperturbed by the events (Champagne aria “Finch’han dal vino”).     

Scene 4

The garden of Don Giovanni’s palace.

Zerlina begs Masetto to believe that she is virtuous (aria “Batti, batti o bel Masetto”). Leporello invites them to the ball organized by Don Giovanni (air with chorus “Sù! svegliatevi da bravi!”). From the palace balcony Leporello notices three people wearing masks. He invites them to join in the festivities (trio of the masks “Bisogna aver coraggio”). They are none other than Donna Elvira, Donna Anna and Don Ottavio, who have come to catch the traitor red-handed.

Scene 5

The ballroom in Don Giovanni’s palace.

The festivities are in full swing with three dances on the programme: a minuet, a quadrille and a waltz. In order to distract Masetto’s attention, Leporello sweeps him up in a dance, while Don Giovanni draws Zerlina outside. She cries out for help; her seducer tries unsuccessfully to put the blame on Leporello. The three masked guests remove their masks and Don Giovanni just manages to escape from his pursuers (finale “Riposate, vezzose ragazze”).

Act II

Scene 1

A street, at night.

Leporello threatens to leave his master, but Don Giovanni convinces him to stay and to exchange clothes with him (duet “Eh via, buffone, non mi seccar!”). His plan is for Leporello to occupy Donna Elvira so that the Don is free to seduce her maid. Elvira appears on her balcony (trio “Ah taci, ingiusto core!”). The real Don Giovanni forces his stand-in to declare his love for Elvira from under her balcony. During this time Don Giovanni serenades the maid (“Deh! vieni alla finestra”). Masetto appears with some friends, intent on killing Don Giovanni. The false Leporello sends them after the unfortunate servant (air “Metà di voi qua vadano”). Left alone with Masetto, Don Giovanni starts beating him. Zerlina runs up to console her fiancé (aria “Vedrai, carino, se sei buonino”).

Scene 2

A dark courtyard in Donna Anna’s palace.

Leporello does not know how to get rid of Elvira and wants to run away. They are joined by Donna Anna, Don Ottavio, then Zerlina and Masetto who, still taking the disguised Leporello for his master, try to capture him. Unjustly pursued, Leporello at last reveals his true identity and escapes (sextet “Sola sola in buio loco”). Don Ottavio vows to them all that they will soon be avenged (aria “Il mio tesoro intanto”). Left alone, Elvira expresses her bitterness, she is torn between her love for Don Giovanni and her desire for revenge (accompanied recitative and aria “In quali eccessi, o Numi / Mi tradì, quell’alma ingrata”).

Scene 3

A cemetery, at night.

Don Giovanni has gone to the cemetery, laughing out loud. There are several statues in the cemetery, including that of the Commendatore. Leporello tells his master how displeased he is: he was almost killed in his place. But Don Giovanni turns the situation around by recounting how he had won the affection of Elvira’s maid before being recognized by Elvira and fleeing to the cemetery. A voice from beyond the grave rings out: it is the Commendatore. Don Giovanni forces the quaking Leporello to invite the statue to dinner (duet “O statua gentilissima”). To Leporello’s horror the statue accepts. Don Giovanni thinks it is a prank.

Scene 4

A room in Donna Anna’s palace.

Anna asks Ottavio to postpone their wedding until her father has been avenged (accompanied recitative and rondò “Crudele!.. Ah no, mio bene! / Non mi dir, bell’idol mio”).

Scene 5

Don Giovanni’s palace.

Don Giovanni is overseeing the final touches to the magnificent dinner he is giving (finale “Già la mensa è preparata”). The musicians rehearse their programme for the last time: Una cosa rara by Vicente Martín y Soler, Fra i due litiganti by Giuseppe Sarti and, as a nod in his own direction, Le nozze di Figaro by Mozart himself. The master of the household is unable to calm Leporello. In despair Elvira arrives to plead with Don Giovanni to amend his ways. But it is in vain, and she leaves. Suddenly she screams out in horror. Leporello runs after her and also cries out: the statue of the Commendatore is approaching (“Ah! signor! Per carità!”). The statue enters (“Don Giovanni, a cenar teco, m’invistasti”). The “guest of stone” wishes to return Don Giovanni’s invitation and stretches out his hand to him. As unperturbed as ever, Don Giovanni accepts and clasps the Commendatore’s hand, but he cannot free himself. Three times, the seducer refuses to repent. The statue disappears, the ground opens, and Don Giovanni is seized by the flames of hell (“Da qual tremore insolito”).

The other characters appear and Leporello tells them what has happened. Anna agrees to marry Ottavio when she has finished mourning her father. Elvira announces that she is going to live in a convent, Zerlina and Masetto declare that they are at last going to wed, and Leporello leaves to search for a better master. There, in the midst of the ruins, the moral of the opera is delivered: the death of a sinner always reflects his life (final chorus: “Ah, dov’è il perfido?”).

The story of Don Giovanni began in Prague. In December 1786 Mozart presented The Marriage of Figaro, his first opera in collaboration with the poet Lorenzo Da Ponte. Seven months after the success of its premiere in Vienna the opera triumphed again, as Mozart recounted it to a friend: “Figaro is all anyone is talking about here; only Figaro is played, sung, whistled; all the time Figaro.” The impresario of the Estates Theatre, Domenico Guardasoni, immediately commissioned the two authors to write a totally new opera for the following season. Da Ponte proposed the subject of Don Juan: the role would be magnificently adapted to the new darling of the Prague scene, the bass Luigi Bassi, a choice that would simplify his task as he could draw inspiration from a libretto by Giovanni Bertati, Il convitato di pietra [The Stone Guest], performed in Venice in January 1787 with music by Giuseppe Gazzaniga. Don Giovanni triumphed on 29 October 1788, with Mozart himself conducting the orchestra. Six months later, on 7 May 1788, at the request of Emperor Joseph II, the opera was presented at the Vienna Burgtheater. An extremely rare fact is that, between its premiere in Vienna and today, performances of Mozart’s opera would never cease. Beethoven, Chopin and Liszt composed variations and paraphrases on its themes, while Rossini, Byron, Hoffmann or Kierkegaard expressed their fascination. The famous singer Pauline Viardot (1821-1910) went so far as to buy the manuscript, later donating it to the library of the Paris Conservatory. Today this precious document is in proud possession of the Bibliothèque nationale de France.

Claire Delamarche, translated by Mary McCabe

In the French-speaking world, Molière’s praise of free thought and cynicism in his comedy (Dom Juan, ou Le Festin de pierre, 1665) [Don Juan or The Feast of Stone] is well-known. But Da Ponte sought inspiration from a more ancient source, via Bertati: a moralizing drama by the Spanish monk Tirso de Molina, El Burlador de Sevilla y convidado de piedra [The Trickster of Seville and the Stone Guest], premiered in Madrid circa 1630. Molina, whose real name was Father Gabriel Téllez (1583?-1648), was a member of the Order of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mercy. As such, he became concerned by the immorality of his time, and his play aimed to combat this. Don Juan Tenorio is not content to be just a seducer: he is an authentic scoundrel who mocks everything that the Spanish Inquisition deemed sacred: love, death, religion (in fact Tirso describes him as the “abuser” and not the “seducer” of Seville).

The morals of Mozart’s and Da Ponte’s dramma giocoso are less clear than those of the play. It appears to glorify youth and pleasure, cultivated with cruelty as well as panache. Right up to the moment when he is on the very edge of the abyss Don Giovanni continues to profess his credo: “Long live women, long live good wine, they are the support and glory of mankind!” Like the Vicomte de Valmont and the Marquise de Merteuil, the protagonists of Pierre Choderlos de Laclos’ novel Liaisons dangereuses [Dangerous Liaisons} (1782), Don Giovanni makes cracks in the order of the Ancien Régime, before the epilogue hails the advent of the new and incorruptible bourgeois morality. Just like these fictional characters and the real-life character that was Giacomo Casanova (a close friend of Da Ponte, a Venetian like him, who was in Prague when the opera was premiered), Don Giovanni defines a major type of seducer. With Valmont and Merteuil, the seduction is cynicism and strategy. With Casanova it is instinct and pleasure. With Don Giovanni it is transgression and defiance.

Claire Delamarche, translated by Mary McCabe

Da Ponte expanded Bertati’s libretto from one act to two. He removed two characters and developed the character of Anna, making her Don Giovanni’s main adversary until his own father, the deceased Commander, takes on the role. In comparison, Anna’s fiancé, Ottavio, appears even more insignificant, and the addition of the aria “Dalla sua pace” for the Viennese revival serves to accentuate this character. 

In contrast to these characters and their airs of nobility, Elvira personifies passion. She acts as representative of the 2065 victims of Don Giovanni (if Leporello’s figures are correct), but, contrary to the vengeful Anna, it takes just one word from the traitor for her to fall into his arms. Hence, she goes through the most conflicting emotions: the heights of indignation and suffering, but also pity for her lover in the aria added for her in Vienna “Mi tradi quell’alma ingrata”.

Anna, Ottavio and Elvira – the three masks – belong to the serious world. They are part of the grand tragic arch spanning the two extremities of the opera – the first part of the overture and the death of Don Giovanni – that have in common their tonality in D minor (that of the future Requiem) and their ascending and descending scales, tense and haunting. Opposed to this universe is Leporello, perfect incarnation of the buffoonish, cowardly valet, drawing on its main tics: staccato speech, short phrases, repetitions, interjections. His status as scapegoat erupts in the scene where he swaps his clothes with Don Giovanni and is almost killed in the process (Da Ponte’s main addition).

Masetto and Zerlina portray a third aspect, tender and bucolic, but fragile. Masetto tries to rebel, but in 1787 the class struggle is still very unequal, and the peasant comes out of it with a few bruises. As for the divine, it is personified by the Commander, revered father figure who in his form as a statue, transforms into a kind of raging Jupiter.

Under Mozart’s pen the blending of genres between tragedy, comedy, pastoral and supernatural is perfectly expressed, justifying its title as dramma giocoso, “humorous drama”, rather than opera buffa. From the very outset the opera juggles with these different worlds. After the tragic grandeur of the opening of the overture, the second part, in D major, on the contrary is the expression of the unwavering energy that drives Don Giovanni. When the curtain rises, we are plunged into buffoonery with Leporello who is pacing up and down in front of Donna Anna’s residence, grumbling against his master. But the arrival of a furious Anna, followed by the death of the Commander, transforms the scene into tragedy.

At the other extremity of the opera, in the banquet scene, the contours fade away again. The music avoids the usual succession of recitatives and arias or duets to form a 15-minute entity, where a variety of different atmospheres follow or overlap each other. The curtain reveals a sumptuous interior, elaborately decorated for a brilliant feast, where for the moment Don Giovanni is the sole guest. The countdown begins and, having heard the overture, we know that the tragic ending is inevitable. Musicians arrive to perform table music, reproducing in the theatre a custom practised in the most lavish palaces. We hear the arias of two successful operas: Vicente Martín y Soler’s Una cosa rara, and Giuseppe Sarti’s Fra i due litiganti. The orchestra then strikes up an aria from The Marriage of Figaro, so as to satisfy the people of Prague who have nothing but this opera in mind. Their choice of aria is not insignificant, as it is the one where Figaro mocks the young page Cherubino who is not only in love with all women in general and with Count Almaviva’s wife in particular, but whom Count Almaviva has just sent to the front: “You shall go no more, lustful butterfly, day and night flitting to and fro, disturbing ladies in their sleep.” The message is clear!

Elvira’s entrance, the arrival of the statue, Leporello’s tragicomic stammerings, mark the return of the tragedy. With the modulation in D minor the final threshold of the drama is crossed. Consciously or not, the audience has been waiting for this tonality since the overture, as it announces the catastrophe. The entrance of the chorus of demons is the final stage of a formidable and powerful upsurge that stops dead when the “punished rake” is dragged down to hell, to use the full title of the opera: Il dissoluto punito, o sia Il Don Giovanni. But Mozart eschews pathos. The hero’s Dantesque death is followed by the most abstract of epilogues: after Don Giovanni’s disappearance the other characters become meaningless, as though deprived of any reason to exist.

Claire Delamarche, translated by Mary McCabe