Contemporary Arts
Opera
HE best Don Giovanni since 1939 in Britain is now to be seen in John Christie's opera- house in Sussex. Only one of the individual performances, though, would merit three-star rating. These two statements are not incorin- patible and this new 'Don' shows the Glynde- bourne approach, traditjons and conditions producing an excellence scarcely to be equalled elsewhere for thoroughness and high standards.
John Piper has more than once, I think, revised his costumes and sets; to good effect. The production this year is in the hands of Ebert Peter, non Papa; it follows Carl's methods but is (dare one say it?) less fussy. Peter Ebert always illuminates the text, keeps the situations clear and nowhere distracts us. (This is not to decry Carl's greatness, merely to say that, with him, familiarity seems to breed excess of detail.)
Here is no Don escaping too easily from the ballroom but a slap-up Douglas Fairbanks sortie, fighting all corners and looking for the nearest chandelier• (mind you, Giuseppe Valdengo's swordsmanship was not impec- cable on the first night and he was only saved by the curtain). In this scene, toor the various groups of dancers could be clearly seen dane-
ing to the three bands; the musical tour de force enhanced and pointed by a visual equivalent.
John'Pritchard drew lovely playing from the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and, though it sometimes lacked the depth that a Beecham cap inspire, it wanted nothing in style and lov- ing care• Of the individual performances, Sena Jurinac's Donna Anna (she was Elvira last year) was outstandingly beautiful; her infinitely expressive looks matched her ex- quisite singing. Her 'Non mi dir' was unforget- table; she even made us overlook the bad taste of that coloratura section of the aria that Berlioz criticised as 'one of the most odious and senseless crimes in the whole history of art against passion, feeling, good taste and good sense.'
Geraint Evans's Leporello is also first class; Tom Hemsley is a lovable Masetto and Richard Lewis a stylish Ottavio. The Elvira and Zerlina are not in the front rank, typical examples of the American ladies that Glynde- bourne continues to import with a consistency difficult to condone.
But what of the Don? Well, Valdengo sang 'La ci dw•ent' and fhe Serenade with fine tone and musicality, but elsewhere his performance suggested that he would be happier in early Verdi than Mozart. His Don is a charmless cad, not much of a dab hand with a cloak, a sword or a girl.
JOHN AMIS
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