Don Giovanni

This production of Don Giovanni from Opera Anywhere, the enterprising local company directed by Mike and Vanessa Woodward, was billed as ‘a new English translation’. This is wrong. What we have is a completely new version of the opera set in the world of corporate finance in an adaptation by Anna Pelly who draws on her own experiences of that world using the unprintable colloquial English of the milieu to produce a totally credible set of characters mirroring the creations of da Ponte. The result is a refreshing and completely valid version of Mozart’s opera, following the story-line closely but reminding one that his characters are real people with real emotions involved in the sexual politics of real situations (unlike many recent productions). Thus Anna is a senior partner in an investment bank who is sexually assaulted working late one evening by a ‘hoodied’ stranger. The chief executive (Mr Mendatore - sic), Anna’s mentor, who comes to her rescue is battered into a coma, dying later in intensive care. Her close colleague, Ottavio, another partner, displays his wimpish character throughout by seeking to follow protocol in bringing accusations of sexual assault and gbh against another colleague Giovanni, rather than taking direct action. Leporello is Giovanni’s chauffeur, Elvira an American lawyer jilted by Giovanni in Tokyo. Zerlina is from the typing pool (we first meet her photocopying invitations to her wedding party) and her fiancé, Masetto, works in the post room.

Much of this one knew from pre-publicity, which included a Channel 4 TV makeover with Harvey Goldsmith. The question was would it work in practice? Would the wit of the original be transferable and sustained throughout? Would the language offend? Would the standard of performance be worthy of the opera? More deeply, one was concerned that it might come over as a financial-world version of the cult television legal series This Life, with its rather sleazy soap opera characters. It didn’t.

The set was a simple arrangement of movable screens and office equipment, designed by Paul Batten, which provided an adequate rudimentary background for the action. …..Occasionally we had voice-over of financial news bulletins. Right from the start of Act I any qualms disappeared and one could sit back and become absorbed in Mozart’s music and the development of the plot in a fresh take on the well-known score. The words were clear – perhaps too clear. In spite of oneself one could not help smiling at some of the explicit text with unprintable rhyming. Only at one point, in over-emphasised reference to the female anatomy, did it offend.

The cast consisted of a talented set of young singers already forging careers with opera companies both large and small. The singing and acting ranged from the acceptable to the sublime – I judge by high standards. There were no weaknesses in the ensembles….Toby Scholtz as Ottavio gave a convincing portrayal of the character’s ineffectiveness; ….Abbi Temple (Zerlina) and Matthew Duncan (Masetto) were a most moving pair of young lovers, subtly translating their roles from country innocents to office juniors. Temple, in particular, showed great personality, really living her part and singing beautifully.

However, the sensations of the evening were Lynsey Docherty, already experienced in many Mozart roles, singing Anna and Steven Gallop in the Commendatore role. Docherty went from strength to strength, culminating in a performance of her last aria (Non mi dir in the original) that would have received an ovation had the audience been less sparse. Anna’s character was developed as an ambitious professional, approaching her glass ceiling, violated in more ways than one by the assault and its consequences and determined on revenge.

The denouement of the opera was brilliantly conceived, almost more convincing than the original. Instead of a statue we had a head portrait of Mendatore in front of which his full, upright, rigid body appeared suddenly, not as a statue but as a drug-induced hallucination of cocaine sniffing Giovanni and Leporello. The part was sung by Gallop, in a doom laden and menacing bass, as one had never heard it sung before. It did not seem to matter that the words did not come over as clearly as the original Italian, a cena teco m’invitasti. It was overwhelming.

It may seem incredible today but fifty years ago it was a matter for serious debate whether or not the final sextet should or should not be included, in which each character in turn looks forward to the future. In this version it is omitted. The production ends with Giovanni meeting his death at the hands of a group of black-masked muggers. It was enough and spared Ms Pelly the challenge of writing a version of the finale consistent with the financial scandal about to overtake the bank as a consequence of the events depicted.

Peter Schofield, Oxford Magazine, May 2007