K. 527, Don Giovanni: A Work without Blemish

K. 527, Don Giovanni: A Work without Blemish

Charles Gounod called Don Giovanni ‘a work without blemish.’   I am inclined to agree, in all but one stylistic nitpick, which I will address later.  First, I must say, when it comes to watching Operas, I am a troglodyte.  I’ve watched a few, just for the cultured experience.  Most were quite boring, even Mozart’s. The music is good though.  I had no problem leaving them part way through to return to them later.  I believe this lack of enthusiasm stems from plot issues.  From my limited experience, operas tend to focus on emotions and music via a straightforward plot.  I like action in my viewing entertainment.  I get bored watching characters lament about the same conflict for a half-an-hour +.  I want something to happen.  I want my plot devices to move the story forward.  Operas seem to follow Aristotle’s rules of plot. Where as, I like Shakespeare’s reinvention of plot. 

Then there’s Don Giovanni.  I first watched it, knowing that I would not have time to finish it.  I had to get to work.  An hour and a half passed.  I didn’t want to stop.  So, I ended up taking my laptop to work and finishing it.

What makes Don Giovanni more compelling than other operas?  What makes it a work without blemish?  And, how much credit should be given to Mozart, and how much given to his librettist Lorenzo Da Ponte.  Da Ponte and Mozart must have from a perfect partnership. Ultimately, whoever gets the credit, the themes, music and plot are spot on.

Let’s start with the overture.  This is one of my favorite Mozart pieces.  Only, I wrestle back and forth whether the tone fits the mood of the opera.  The opening elements do.  Dark strums that remind me of Bach’s eerie opening of Toccata and Fugue.  Then, Mozart introduces roars of triumph that contrast the darkness.  The overture proclaims a classic battle between good and evil with a fist-pumping excitement.  Now, I do love the song.  I have listened to it while running for motivation.  But, I can’t help but wonder if it sets the right mood for this tragic opera.  Sure, Don Giovanni is an evil man. And, he does ‘lose’ in the end.  Yet, he is the protagonist.  The overture would lend one to believe, good will prevail via winning over Don’s heart, showing the man the error of his ways.  Maybe, this is what Mozart wanted his audience to believe would happen. A set up for the twist ending.  Opening musical irony, in a work possibly riddled with irony.

The plot of the opera is filled with action.  Each character aims to give Don Giovanni his comeuppance. Several subplots gnaw at the overall plot.  The character’s all carry a theme of their own.  If one wanted to write a book about Don Giovanni, he or she could devote an entire chapter to each character.

However, one particular character has staying power.  Elvira.  Don Giovanni’s jilted one-night stand.  We’re introduced to her with a brilliant moment of humor.  She recognized Don, who can’t remember her.  His servant, Leporello, has to point to her name in Don Giovanni’s book of conquests.  Don sweet-talks the woman giving her a reason why he left.  She starts to fall for it, until fate reveals his true character.  She, as the other characters, is at first consumed with anger toward Don.  As the story drives forward, she realizes she loves Don.  But, I don’t think this love is necessarily an ‘I want to marry the man’ sort of love.  She has a genuine concern for Don’s well being. 

Thus, she confronts him.  She tells him he needs to repent. Plea for mercy.  Don Giovanni mocks Elvira.  He calls her a hypocrite.  How relevant a defensive action?  We all wrestle with this great debate.  When should we confront someone? And how? This seems to be a ‘live and let live’ world. But, if you break it down, it is really not.  We all have those ‘hot button’ issues we think need to be fixed.  (Even those that label themselves ‘completely open-minded’ dogmatically feel the need to confront those that confront others.)  Like Don Giovanni, when confronted with a particular vice, confrontees point out confronters’ hypocrisy.  This is why so often, we may be afraid to speak up. Not because we are without values, but out of fear our hypocrisy will be revealed.  Elvira proceeds anyway.  She fights through the ridicule (even truthful ridicule) for Don Giovanni’s well-being.

Along with plot, the music has its own peculiar messages.  Là ci darem la mano froths with irony. I can’t help but wonder if Mozart thrust some jilted views of romantic love into this song.  Without context, I’d say this duet is expression of heartfelt emotions between two people in love.  Yet, this could not be farther from the truth.  Sure, it is a powerfully passionate piece, but what passions are being presented?  The song is a conversation between Don and Zerlina.  Don is trying to woo a woman on her wedding day.  He proclaims his affections to her, asking for just one night to prove himself.  Don’s nefarious intents are clear, but what about Zerlina’s?  Why is she willing to even entertain a relationship with a man she just met? On her wedding day?  Money.  The idea of hooking up with a rich guy?  Does that motivate any woman today?  Did Mozart experience any share of gold-diggers?

Why create beautiful, sincere music for such ugly emotions? So often, we equate those that create beautiful music, as some sort of romance geniuses.  But really, what is the relationship track-record of our greatest love-song writers?  What were Mozart’s wrestlings as he wrote this duet? Marriage issues plagued the composer.  I could see his wife nagging him about their finances.  Guilt may have been plaguing from his indiscretions.   Did he find his old ideals of romance nothing but vanity?  Or, maybe he simply created an unrealized irony. 

So, since a pleading woman couldn’t lead Don Giovanni to repentance, surely the awakened statue of his murdered victim could.  No.  Don must have been a stubborn man to ignore such a supernatural calling.  In his biography on Mozart, Maynard Solomon offers several suggestions why Don refused to repent.  All of which seem to hint at a subtle sense of nobility with in Don Giovanni.  My differing precepts of human nature lead me to what I believe is the most obvious reason for Don’s refusal to repent.  Don did not believe his sin was that serious, even though everyone else did.  So often, when an individual is confronted, he or she tends to not believe their actions are serious.  We all have the tendency to deny or shrug off our faults. ‘I’m only human’ is a common mantra.  Of course, when someone commits an act we find particularly egregious, a righteous indignation burns within us when that individual has a flippant attitude concerning his or her offense.  This opera is full of characters burning in such a manner against Don Giovanni. 

Now, on to the one flaw. The last number.  Now, my issue with this ditty is not an issue of substance or music, but literary style.  The opera ends with the rest of the characters moralizing the story.  They proclaim the effects of unrepentant sin.  From English and Literature classes, one rule states: never tell your audience the moral of your story.  A work should have such weight that you won’t have to.  Don Giovanni has that very power.  The finale is unneeded.  I’ve read that some composers of the past omitted the last song. I can see why.