Different adaptations of the same plot are far from unusual in opera – one thinks of Manon Lescaut and numerous Shakespeare-based operas – but there will be few opera buffs who will know any version of Don Giovanni other than Mozart’s. The Royal College of Music has made an enterprising attempt to change this by staging for their Autumn production Giuseppe Gazzaniga’s Don Giovanni, o sia Il convitato di pietra (sometimes known as Don Giovanni tenorio).

Loading image...
Marcus Swietlicki (Don Giovanni) and Henna Mun (Maturina)
© Chris Christodoulou

A representative of the Neapolitan School, Gazzaniga is little known by modern audiences. His Don Giovanni is one of over fifty operas written across a half a century; it premiered in early 1787, a few months before Mozart and Da Ponte’s adaptation delighted Prague. Alas, a comparison of the two goes decidedly against Gazzaniga, and the RCM’s production – as well performed as it is – serves only to remind one of Mozart’s unique genius and Da Ponte’s dramatic flair. Nowhere was this more obvious than in the insertion of Mozart’s Catalogue Aria, brought in to this production as gesture of historicity on the grounds that operatic performances of the time would often feature arias from other composers; several by Salieri also appeared in this production. 

There are points of departure: instead of Mozart’s three women – Donnas Anna and Elvira, and Zerlina – we have Anna, Elvira and Donna Ximena, while Maturina replaces Zerlina. There’s an entertaining scene in which Don Giovanni is balancing Ximena with Elvira, only to have Maturina enter for an amusing verbal battle with Elvira, a moment of buffa outstandingly delivered by the cast which put me in mind of the confrontation between Susanna and Marcellina in Figaro. The opera otherwise largely follows the same lines as Mozart’s, albeit in one-act form.

Loading image...
David Fraser (Commendatore), Daniel Barrett (Pasquariello) and Marcus Swietlicki (Don Giovanni)
© Chris Christodoulou

Louise Bakker’s straightforward period production avoids philosophical musings and makes this a very human drama. Her comic direction is sharp and there’s a strong sense of female identity that lends character rather than caricature to the likes of Elvira and Maturina. Becky-Dee Trevenen’s set is simple and uncluttered – clearly done with an eye for a budget but without feeling cheap – with an orange tree and Joshua Gadsby’s deft lighting giving us a flavour of Spain. 

The first night cast was on good form, buoyed by the light and nimble playing, a few fluffs aside, of the RCM Orchestra under Michael Rosewell. Among the principals, the Maturina of Henna Mun particularly stood out. Mun was one of the highlights of the RCM production of Respighi’s La bella dormente nel bosco in March and it was gratifying to hear her again. She has an appealing higher register and a presence that makes her a natural on the stage. 

Loading image...
Alexandra Dunaeva (Anna), Georgia Melville (Elvira), Henna Mun (Maturina) and Ellen Pearson (Ximena)
© Chris Christodoulou

Tenor Marcus Swietlicki’s Don Giovanni had little in the way of real charm – there was a sense of petulance and moments of insecurity of a high school bully in his portrayal – but he sang with a heft and elegance that grew as the evening unfolded. Georgia Melville was a moving Elvira, showing a big voice that was at times perhaps a little blunt and in need of more shaping to the phrases. Ellen Pearson gave a sweetly sung Ximena under a splendid wig. Daniel Barrett’s hearty baritone suited Pasquariello (Gazzaniga’s version of Leporello) well; his performance of the Catalogue Aria suggests some promise and his delivery suggested an innate sense of comic timing, particularly when faced with the rather less amiable Biagio of Sam Hird, an unpleasant boozer. David Fraser, Alexandra Dunaeva and Sam Harris all gave energetic performances as the Commendatore, Anna and Duca Ottavio respectively.

An opportunity to hear a forgotten work always carries risks; while it was rewarding to see a fine young cast perform, this is not an opera one would rush to hear again. 

***11