The evening with Don Giovanni

I found this image on Facebook recently, ironically enough a few days before I went to see Don Giovanni. I blogged about it before, I promised to give more details about the evening, so as promised, here is the post giving you the account of my experience (and it was an experience). And I thought this image would be very fitting, even though I already uploaded the overture on a different post. It took Mozart one night to compose its overture, and what an overture it was. But I digress...

I think it would be pointless to write this post as a review. I don't do reviews very well. Don Giovanni is the greatest opera that ever was, in my opinion, however limited the means, however poor the production may be, the music and the story can lift them and turn it into not only an enjoyable night, but an experience. It was a production of limited means: no chorus, only the characters. No orchestra, only a piano. A small stage, minimalist decor, the theater an old barn. Some scenes were cut, even. But nevertheless, it was my first live experience of the classic. I love Don Giovanni for many reasons, maybe the main one is that it is because it is not merely edgy, it is the most revolutionary, iconoclast, anti-establishment piece of lyrical fiction there is. The main character and antihero is a blasphemer, an agent of chaos, a philanderer who does not shy away from rape and murder to satisfy his lust, who openly mocks both the law of men and God, and threatened by eternal damnation accepts his fate rather than repenting, out of fear or remorse. So however humble the setting, the core of the opera was channeled properly.

The intermission was longer, as there was a picnic/supper. We shared our table with a mother and her daughter. The mother was American, her daughter half British from her father, she was 20 and they had settled back to England after a few years in Italy. Very friendly people: they offered us a few glasses of their rosé, they chatted with us and we had a lovely conversation among connoisseurs. I had met two people who shared my love of Italy, my love of opera and my love for Don Giovanni. In fact, the daughter told us that it was the first opera she ever saw. A revelation to her: she knew she wanted to become an opera singer at that moment. I told my wife later that I was so happy about it, thata girl her age and her generation had decided to live her dreams and become an opera singer. It meant that there was hope for the form of art, that it could still touch and marvel new people. And it was very reassuring: we were with them among the youngest people there. Most of the people around us were elderly, "white heads" as my father would say. And I am not that young to begin with!

So that was my evening. I would not end a post about Mozart without his music. So I decided to upload here the ball scene, near the end of the first act of Don Giovanni. With Samuel Ramey in the title role. It has Viva la Liberta in it, that is the main reason I chose this bit. When I say the opera is revolutionary, that is what I mean.

A duet from Don Giovanni

I want more music on this blog and since this post I think I might colour Vraie Fiction with more Italian. This is maybe Mozart's most famous duet, from my favourite opera (of course I mean the immortal Don Giovanni). When I was studying opera with Claudiiiiine, she gave me lots and lots of material from Mozart, because I had asked her (at my mother's request) and because I think there was a lot of great music for baritone.La ci darem la mano was among it. It is the only duet I ever sang, once or twice with a student of hers, but most of the time with her. Even if it was just during class, singing such a duet with a professional soprano was really fun. Sadly, I never had time to master it enough to sing it in public. It is interpreted here by Samuel Ramey and Dawn Upshaw.

Musing on Don Giovanni and Mozart

I put that song on this blog before, I know. I thought I would put it again. I have been listening to Mozart's operas a lot these days. I have a long history with Mozart, as a listener and later on as an (amateur) opera singer. I was in Austria on a trip with my family during the 200th anniversary of his death. We spent the next year or so listening to Mozart, then for years my mother listened and listened to it, enough for me to get an overdose by the time I was twenty. I got sick of him and his music.

Then, years later, when I started studying opera, I asked my teacher to get me some Mozart arias to sing. It was partially at the request of my mum who wanted to hear me singing her favourite composer, partially because I wanted to reconciled with his work. She gave me a few songs, including Deh vieni alla finestra. I quickly became a Mozart aficionado again, especially of Don Giovanni, which I rediscovered through its arias. They are beautiful, but the opera in itself is brilliant (one of my favourite), animated by a fascinating character. I hope to reflect on it and on him one day (a little bit more about it here). I have a few regrets in my life, not becoming a professional baritone is one of them, just like having never performed an opera onstage. If I had ever become opera singer, Don Giovanni would have been my role. I don't mean that I would have become famous for my interpretation of him (my voice is too weak I think), but it would have been the role I would have never got tired of singing. I decided to put Deh vieni alla finestra here again, because it was this aria that subrepticely brought me back to Mozart. I have decided to put it here sung by Samuel Ramey.

Apologies to Mozart's Girl for not responding to her award yet. I hope this post will help me be forgiven.

The voice of the Devil

What if I was bothering my modest readership with another opera post? I haven't done this in a while. I blogged about it in French here, so a year ago. I love the story of Faust, which I discovered through the opera of Gounod. There are of course many other interpretations of the legend. I have discovered recently Boito's Mefistofele, more especially an aria of the title character which I will show you later.

Anyway, the reason why I am fascinated by Gounod's opera and its subject is because of the perfect way the devil is depicted. He is the instigator of the plot, the one who takes initiatives and put the story in motion, until its tragic ending. And Mephistophélès is always pictured as utterly malevolent, yet charming. Throughout the story, we root for him, not Faust or the forces of virtue, which are pretty much impotent until the end. But the real nature of the devil is revealed through his voice: low, threatening but penetrating, fascinating like the stare of a snake. Mephisto is a seducer. This is what opera does best: it gives an aesthetic reality to abstract concept. The beauty of the devil, temptation, it means nothing unless one can get a concrete manifestation of it. And nothing beats a great bass voice to give shape and presence to these concepts.

I haven't watched/listened to the entirety of Mefistofele yet. I will, because I am growing quite fond of some of its arias. By the way the Devil introduces himself, he is certainly more threatening than in Gounod. Yet, we can feel in the voice the power of fascination he has. I have decided to put here the interpretation of one of my favourite bass-barytone, Samuel Ramey. He made himself famous for singing as Mephistopheles in Boito's and Gounod's works, among other things. He also makes a great Don Giovanni, as you can see/hear here. If you can have the patience of going through the very chatty French presenter, you can hear him here singing Vous qui faites l'endormie, from the Faust of Gounod. Here you can hear him as Satan shows himself to Faust in the same opera. And here are two versions (I couldn't decide which one to put here) where Mefistofele played by Ramey reveals himself to Faust in the opera of Boito. This is a much more dangerous Satan, bitter fallen angel who makes no secret of his ambitions. If you know a bit of Italian like me, you can follow the lyrics in the first video.