The Juilliard Opera mounts Don Giovanni.
by Paul J. Pelkonen
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's music is timeless. But are the ribald, sexist opera libretti of Lorenzo da Ponte still workable on the stage in this era of #metoo? That is the question asked by the Juilliard Opera and director Emma Griffin. Her new staging of Don Giovanni bowed Wednesday night at the Peter Jay Sharp Theater. In its two acts, Ms. Griffin sought to turn this opera, the story of a rabid sexual predator at play in the streets of Seville, Spain on its head and deliver a message about today's sexual ethics.
She partly succeeded.
Ms. Griffin sets most of the opera against omnipresent walls, a surface of vermilion chintz flowers picked out in cobalt blue. These walls (with doors at either end in the first act, and free-standing in the second) allowed for different scenery and lighting effects but gave the actors very little room to maneuver for the opera's more physical moments. The result was a standard "stand-and-sing" staging, with the exception of the two big finales. These were augmented by Juilliard musicians (serving as the necessary onstage bandas) and the services of a coffin-shaped fish tank, whose function in the opera remained mysterious until the final moments.
Odder still was the decision to juggle some of the scenes in Act II, moving the graveyard encounter with the statue of the Commendatore (the excellent bass William Guanbo Su) to right before the banquet scene. This meant that Mr. Su got to do his big parts back to back, lessening the impact of the statue's arrival and messing up the order of the show. I still don't understand why the Don's punishment was a face-first drowning in the fish tank--perhaps it was some comment on the character engaging in the tired Mafia cliché of "sleeping with the fishes" or perhaps it was a reference to the late Hollywood star Troy McClure?
All this directorial mucking about somehow spared the opera itself, which was played by the young cast and energized orchestra (under the baton of Joseph Colaneri) at a high and enthusiastic level. Hubert Zapiór was an enthusiastic, catlike Don, using his dark-toned and slightly sharp baritone to create a contrast with the warmer sound of Erik van Heyningen's Leporello. The latter really is the better of the two parts, and Mr. van Heyningen made the most of the prop comedy opportunities of the "Catalogue song", tearing through a set of small Moleskine notebooks that tracked the Don's conquests.
As Donna Anna, Meghan Kasanders made a strong impression. Here is a singer on her way to the big time, reminding one of Angela Meade in her tone production method and the ring of metal that came out in her two big arias. "Or sai chi l'onore" was particularly fine as she opened up her still developing top for the aria's fireworks, helped by a slowing of tempo from the orchestra pit. Martina Tampakopoulos was an engaging Donna Elvira, in dominatrix mode with her riding crop and patent heels. This facade melted swiftly in "Mi tradi," as she revealed that her character would indeed forgive the louche Don for just about anything. She was a strong stage presence even as she diminished over the course of her character arc.
Zerlina and Masetto are the two innocents tossed in the middle of the Don's adventures. Jessica Niles played her as a just-married girl (in an utterly ridiculous wedding dress) who is immediately attracted to the sleazy come-ons of the Don. (The "La ci darem la mano" duet was delicious.) However, she always goes home to her burly Masetto (Gregory Feldman.) Her delivery of "Vedrai carino" was hampered by her clear distraction--she was either looking for a cue or did not know to look Mr. Feldman during the scene. The bass was a bluff and effective Masetto, in both the ugly "Ho capito" aria or the fisticuffs with the Don in the second act. Tenor James Ley did his best with the underwritten part of Don Ottavio, but looked suitably outraged during "Non mi dir."
The director saved one last twist for the ending ensemble, a coda which has been optional since Mozart removed it from the opera after the very first Prague performance. As the singers came downstage and sang of their various fates (Leporello's looking for work, Elvira's off to a convent, possibly to have the Don's baby, Donna Anna is putting off marriage to the hapless Ottavio for a year and the newlyweds are going to go eat dinner) a dripping wet Don emerged from his watery incarceration. Mr. Zapiór moved close to his cast mates and leered at them, perhaps as a ghost. However, in the very last moment, he grabbed Ms. Kasanders. She screamed as she was dragged offstage, much to the audience's bewilderment.
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by Paul J. Pelkonen
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| Take my wife, please. Masetto (Gregory Feldman, right) looks on as the Don (Hubert Zapiór) woos Zerlina (Jessica Niles) in a scene from Act I of Don Giovanni. Photo by Richard Termine. |
She partly succeeded.
Ms. Griffin sets most of the opera against omnipresent walls, a surface of vermilion chintz flowers picked out in cobalt blue. These walls (with doors at either end in the first act, and free-standing in the second) allowed for different scenery and lighting effects but gave the actors very little room to maneuver for the opera's more physical moments. The result was a standard "stand-and-sing" staging, with the exception of the two big finales. These were augmented by Juilliard musicians (serving as the necessary onstage bandas) and the services of a coffin-shaped fish tank, whose function in the opera remained mysterious until the final moments.
Odder still was the decision to juggle some of the scenes in Act II, moving the graveyard encounter with the statue of the Commendatore (the excellent bass William Guanbo Su) to right before the banquet scene. This meant that Mr. Su got to do his big parts back to back, lessening the impact of the statue's arrival and messing up the order of the show. I still don't understand why the Don's punishment was a face-first drowning in the fish tank--perhaps it was some comment on the character engaging in the tired Mafia cliché of "sleeping with the fishes" or perhaps it was a reference to the late Hollywood star Troy McClure?
All this directorial mucking about somehow spared the opera itself, which was played by the young cast and energized orchestra (under the baton of Joseph Colaneri) at a high and enthusiastic level. Hubert Zapiór was an enthusiastic, catlike Don, using his dark-toned and slightly sharp baritone to create a contrast with the warmer sound of Erik van Heyningen's Leporello. The latter really is the better of the two parts, and Mr. van Heyningen made the most of the prop comedy opportunities of the "Catalogue song", tearing through a set of small Moleskine notebooks that tracked the Don's conquests.
As Donna Anna, Meghan Kasanders made a strong impression. Here is a singer on her way to the big time, reminding one of Angela Meade in her tone production method and the ring of metal that came out in her two big arias. "Or sai chi l'onore" was particularly fine as she opened up her still developing top for the aria's fireworks, helped by a slowing of tempo from the orchestra pit. Martina Tampakopoulos was an engaging Donna Elvira, in dominatrix mode with her riding crop and patent heels. This facade melted swiftly in "Mi tradi," as she revealed that her character would indeed forgive the louche Don for just about anything. She was a strong stage presence even as she diminished over the course of her character arc.
Zerlina and Masetto are the two innocents tossed in the middle of the Don's adventures. Jessica Niles played her as a just-married girl (in an utterly ridiculous wedding dress) who is immediately attracted to the sleazy come-ons of the Don. (The "La ci darem la mano" duet was delicious.) However, she always goes home to her burly Masetto (Gregory Feldman.) Her delivery of "Vedrai carino" was hampered by her clear distraction--she was either looking for a cue or did not know to look Mr. Feldman during the scene. The bass was a bluff and effective Masetto, in both the ugly "Ho capito" aria or the fisticuffs with the Don in the second act. Tenor James Ley did his best with the underwritten part of Don Ottavio, but looked suitably outraged during "Non mi dir."
The director saved one last twist for the ending ensemble, a coda which has been optional since Mozart removed it from the opera after the very first Prague performance. As the singers came downstage and sang of their various fates (Leporello's looking for work, Elvira's off to a convent, possibly to have the Don's baby, Donna Anna is putting off marriage to the hapless Ottavio for a year and the newlyweds are going to go eat dinner) a dripping wet Don emerged from his watery incarceration. Mr. Zapiór moved close to his cast mates and leered at them, perhaps as a ghost. However, in the very last moment, he grabbed Ms. Kasanders. She screamed as she was dragged offstage, much to the audience's bewilderment.
If you enjoyed this article, it's time to click over to Superconductor's Patreon page, and help support the cost of independent music journalism in New York City at the low cost of just $5/month.
