Salzburg Festival 2024 Review: Don Giovanni

( Photo: © SF/Monika Rittershaus)

All sinful things are often wrapped in alluring aesthetics. You’re familiar with the sensation: something that is incredibly beautiful and enticing, yet unsettling—too enjoyable to be morally acceptable. That’s the essence of the Salzburg Festival’s “Don Giovanni”: a dramatic spectacle, a grand musical venture, a provocative concept; yet fundamentally flawed.

To begin with, this is a revival of Romeo Castellucci’s production from the summer of 2021 with a similar cast; contrary to what some sources might suggest, it is not a new production. The core idea is that Don Giovanni represents the embodiment of eroticism (“from agape to eros”), showing utter disregard for anything sacred. Here, Eros is interwoven with all the beautiful vulgarity and commonness (a somewhat milder version of Pasolini’s “Salò”).

The major draw of Castellucci’s production lies in his striking visual arrangements. His approach involves creating a continuous stream of symbols and images that, though occasionally bordering on the absurd, provoke a kind of frenzied attempt at interpretation in the audience. It’s a peculiar yet enjoyable exercise for all involved. The director demonstrates such extensive knowledge that it transcends mere pretentiousness; the audience revels in recognising some of the stage symbolism, as if being commended for their own scholarly insight.

The truth is that while such concepts can easily veer into caricature when taken to extremes (as with Castellucci and some of his contemporaries like Angélica Liddell), the outcome can be quite enjoyable. Embracing a collection of significant elements and feeling intellectually superior—what we refer to as “erudite music”—has its own appeal.

Castellucci’s deluge of symbols transforms Da Ponte’s libretto into a series of striking compositions rather than a continuous dramatic narrative. In some ways, this might be as operatic as it gets. The acting, deliberately stylised in the manner of Ponnelle, is set against far more radical backdrops: a church being dismantled, a puppet show, a suspended sports car, and more.

It would be a challenging and possibly fruitless task to dissect each of Castellucci’s references (ranging from Venus and Adonis to Flemish painting; they’re all intriguing). The central theme seems to be an exploration of the connection between eroticism and art. For Castellucci, the erotic is expansive, encompassing even sports like soccer and basketball. It suggests a dismantling of Catholicism and an acceptance of an asceticism that, while castrating, still possesses beauty and allure. The moral journeys of Donna Anna and her suitor Ottavio, or the quest for marriage that constrains Zerlina and Masetto, are dignified but lack the seductive appeal of Giovanni’s path.

Musical Highlights

However, the most contentious aspect of the evening was Teodor Currentzis’s conducting. While his extraordinary talent is undeniable—and I plan to write extensively about it—there remains the issue of his recent connections with Putin’s regime, as reported by Van Magazine earlier this May. It raises the question of why he is still allowed to conduct in Salzburg, especially after being deemed persona non grata in Vienna. Is it a matter of ignorance or political indifference? In the US, Anna Netrebko faced much harsher consequences for far less. Hypocrisy in the classical music world is not new, but sometimes it reaches extreme levels.

Yet, adhering to the age-old notion of separating the artist from the art—even if it’s not entirely feasible—Currentzis remains a superb conductor, both conceptually and technically. He exemplifies an “old school” approach where the conductor often becomes the focal point of the performance. Despite ongoing debates about the role of the conductor, there is a certain allure to those who can captivate an audience merely through their expressive baton gestures. During the opera, Currentzis’s hands moved with remarkable musicality, reminiscent of Bernstein’s vibrant mannerisms (from his Mahler recordings to the West Side Story documentary). Nevertheless, Currentzis lacks Bernstein’s charisma and perhaps his hairdresser’s contact information.

Illuminating Cast

On a technical level, there is little to fault in Davide Luciano’s portrayal of Giovanni. Beyond his impressive vocal ability, he demonstrates significant stage presence. From leaping from the orchestral pit to deliver a compelling “Fin ch’han dal vino” to embracing Castellucci’s innovative approach in the confrontation scene—where Giovanni confronts himself, requiring Luciano to both sing his part and lip-sync the vengeful victim’s—Luciano shows remarkable commitment. This also involves undressing and covering himself with white pigment, simulating a statue. Many singers can be captivating on stage, but few Giovannis display such physical dedication without compromising their vocal performance or seeming self-indulgent.

However, I remain somewhat unconvinced by Luciano as Giovanni. Despite technical proficiency, there is a lack of ease in his singing that prevented me from fully embracing his interpretation of Don Giovanni. Luciano’s performance felt somewhat strained in passages where a more relaxed delivery, typical of lower-voiced singers, would have been smoother. His “Deh, vieni alla finestra” struggled to maintain a legato, and his attempts at softer piani sometimes compromised the richness of his tone. Even though Luciano is a complete artist, something was missing in these moments. The audience, although generally enthusiastic, seemed less responsive to his canzonetta, which was left unacknowledged.

The female cast, however, was outstanding. Castellucci aimed to create a powerful sisterhood, with the women recognising their objectification by Don Giovanni, who views them merely as an endless list of conquests. Despite potential concerns about the ideological implications—such as Donna Anna and Zerlina inhabiting a world of beautiful music performed in a manner detached from eroticism—the female performers delivered musically original interpretations.

Zerlina and Donna Anna were cast with sopranos possessing bright, pure tones. Nadezhda Pavlova, who can perform all the vocal feats of Zerbinetta, brought a remarkably light quality to Donna Anna. Her voice, marked by bright and rich high notes and a series of medium and lower harmonics, evokes the lyric sopranos like Lucia Popp, though Pavlova’s artistry is distinct. Her Anna is both tragic and idealistic. Despite the character’s suffering and lack of children, Pavlova’s performance conveyed a sense of beauty and hope, as if suggesting that fate could be overcome. Her triumphal “Crudele! Ah non mio bene” epitomised her character, with a pure voice anticipating a future where love will be restored. Pavlova’s unorthodox variations, supported by Currentzis’s rubati, highlighted the purity of her role. The sustained high notes she added to the aria not only called for sympathy but also showcased her exceptional talent.

Anna El-Khashem’s portrayal of Zerlina was notably less sexualised than usual, focusing instead on her victimhood. Her performance, marked by similar silky variations and a voice as captivating as Pavlova’s, rendered the character less comic. Moments that could have been purely humorous, such as in “Batti, Batti,” were infused with a subtly witty charm rather than outright comedy.

Federica Lombardi, on the other hand, brought a fierce intensity to her Donna Elvira. Her voice, now more guttural and rounder than in previous years, added dramatic depth to her portrayal. Lombardi’s Elvira conveyed a strong sense of urgency and internal conflict, balancing her disdain for Giovanni with an undeniable attraction. Instead of taking a comedic approach to “la donna è mobile,” Lombardi’s interpretation explored Elvira’s psychological complexity. Her “Ah! Chi mi dici mai” was forceful yet effortful, contrasting with the smoother delivery of other female leads, while “Mi tradì quell’alma ingrata” showcased a rich, romantic quality with a modern twist in its variations.

In Castellucci’s vision, the male leads, excluding Giovanni, were subjected to ridicule, underscoring a world devoid of eros. Don Ottavio (or Don Otário, as Castellucci might have intended) was particularly mocked. Julien Prégardien, decked out in increasingly ludicrous costumes—from a boat captain to a queen, a nun, and even a stylised Harlequin—embodied a character that symbolically deconstructs masculinity. Despite this, Prégardien approached the role with notable vocal dignity and lyricism. His superb voice and charming phrasing, especially in “Il Mio tesoro,” offered a masterclass in Mozartian singing, characterised by its smoothness and elegance.

Ruben Drole’s portrayal of Masetto was notably challenged, with the character even being physically mutilated on stage. Musically, Drole delivered a solid performance with a generous voice and proper Italian diction. As a Swiss baritone clearly adept at comic roles, he particularly shone in the second act, where Masetto’s role as a pitiable, laughable figure was more evident, eliciting sympathy from the audience.

American bass-baritone Kyle Ketelsen faced the demanding role of Leporello. His performance was generally reliable, though the charm of his voice was somewhat diminished by the expansive acoustics of the Great Festival Hall. Ketelsen did not, or was not permitted to, exhibit the same level of musical inventiveness as the female leads or Ottavio. Consequently, his performance did not leave a lasting impression, and even the catalogue aria became more a dramatic representation of the women oppressed by Don Giovanni than a display of Ketelsen’s vocal prowess.

In terms of stage presence, Dmitry Ulyanov had a particularly difficult time. Traditionally, the Commendatore has limited stage time, but Castellucci’s concept of presenting him as an inner ghost within Giovanni’s psyche, while intriguing, resulted in Ulyanov’s face becoming less memorable. Nevertheless, his voice remained impressive. Ulyanov’s Commendatore was solid and resonant, effectively blending his voice to evoke a spectral presence, especially in the final confrontation scene, joining the ranks of the formidable basses who embody ghostly characters.

In Conclusion

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed watching this “Don Giovanni.” Its production is so visually striking that it’s difficult not to be captivated by its aesthetic achievements. Whether it was truly “good” is harder to determine. Castellucci’s approach, while visually impressive, might overshadow the intellectual debates about his interpretations, as is often the case in theatre. Musically, Currentzis’s rendition is undeniably distinctive—perhaps too much so for purist Mozart enthusiasts. Personally, I found it very enjoyable.

However, this enjoyment comes with a caveat. In an era of highly politicised discussions about casting, Salzburg’s choice to continue working with Currentzis is undeniably problematic. While they may not engage in the political spectacle seen in some American opera companies, this stance is notable given the central European context. With refugees and talented musicians from various backgrounds now part of the European musical landscape, it’s puzzling that neither the audience nor the administration appears to be significantly concerned about these issues. It prompts reflection on the true values and costs associated with such decisions, and what really matters to some people.