Sanssouci
sat 12 sep 2026 10:00 hrs
Mozart Stages Another Opera in Prague—and What an Opera It Is!
As we established last week, 1787 was Mozart’s year of Prague. He had already traveled there in January to attend performances of Le nozze di Figaro and his Prague Symphony. The success of Figaro left both Mozart and the Prague audience wanting more. The tables had turned: while Bohemian composers normally travelled to Vienna—and other German-speaking cities—in search of a career, an Austrian composer was now being celebrated in Prague.
For their second opera, Mozart and Lorenzo da Ponte turned to the legend of Don Juan, or Don Giovanni in Italian. He is a compulsive womaniser for whom seduction has become an addiction—one that will ultimately destroy him.
The opera opens with Don Giovanni pursuing Donna Anna. Her father attempts to intervene, but Don Giovanni kills him in a duel. His servant Leporello has had enough of these antics, especially as he is always expected to clean up his master’s mess. He urges Don Giovanni to put an end to it, but his master has no intention of doing so. He has already set his sights on another victim: Donna Elvira, who has just been abandoned by her lover and is therefore particularly vulnerable. She knows the Don’s reputation, but is still wavering. Leporello soon puts an end to her doubts by revealing the true extent of his master’s exploits. Some time later, they arrive at a peasant wedding. Zerlina is about to marry Masetto, but Don Giovanni, naturally, manages to drive the couple apart once again.
By now, everyone has had enough of him: the women he pursues, but especially their more honourable lovers. Don Giovanni, however, refuses to stop and continues trying to seduce the women. Leporello is forced to assist him, even at considerable risk to himself.
They then encounter something truly supernatural: the talking statue of the Commendatore, Donna Anna’s murdered father. Don Giovanni refuses to believe that he is dealing with a supernatural being and invites the statue to dinner. The statue accepts the invitation and arrives at the feast. In the midst of all the guests, Don Giovanni is dragged down to hell…
Quite a departure from the light-hearted subject matter of Figaro! Don Giovanni is certainly no laughing matter. But does that make it an opera seria, a serious opera? Not quite. Opera seria followed a strict set of conventions, with highly stylised, virtuosic arias and a clearly defined structure. It also typically featured a benevolent ruler who ultimately showed mercy towards the villains. In Don Giovanni, the nobility is shown at its very worst. In that respect, the opera has much in common with Figaro.
The structure also bears similarities to Mozart’s previous operas. The arias are lyrical and immediately singable, while both acts culminate in extended finales in which much of the drama unfolds. In essence, Don Giovanni takes a serious subject and sets it within a comic framework. It is almost as if opera buffa is slowly devouring opera seria: a form that had previously been regarded as secondary and suitable mainly for farce is now capable of carrying almost anything. Mozart is already pointing the way towards the nineteenth century.
The opera’s criticism of decadent aristocrats who believe they can do whatever they please also feels remarkably modern. At the same time, we should be careful not to interpret Don Giovanni simply as an attack on the old ruling classes. Two of his three victims are noblewomen themselves, and ultimately it is the ghost of the aristocratic Commendatore who comes to take the Don away.
This edition of Sanssouci is devoted entirely to Don Giovanni. We hear a selection of excerpts from different parts of the opera.
We start off with the overture. Ominous music already foreshadows the flames of hell, reinforced by the key of D minor, traditionally associated with divine wrath. After the overture, Leporello complains about having to assist the Don in his schemes day and night (“Notte e giorno faticar”). He has had enough.
Next comes Elvira’s introduction. She laments being abandoned (“Ah! Chi me dice mai”). Don Giovanni orders Leporello to invite her to join him, but instead Leporello produces a detailed catalogue of his master’s conquests (“Madamina, il catalogo è questo”): 640 in Italy, 231 in Germany, 100 in France, 91 in Turkey and 1,003 in Spain—making a grand total of 2,065.
At Zerlina and Masetto’s wedding celebration, Leporello finally gets a chance to pursue the women himself. He is therefore nowhere to be found when Zerlina needs warning. Don Giovanni is free to sing his famous duet with her, “Lá ci darem la mano”, one of the opera’s great hits.
To win everyone over, Don Giovanni offers to pay for the festivities himself. One scene from the party is particularly remarkable. The ball opens with a minuet, the dance of aristocrats such as Giovanni, Anna and Elvira. A contredanse follows, representing the townspeople. Finally, Don Giovanni dances a German dance with Zerlina. All three dances are performed simultaneously, each in its own rhythm and tempo! As we already know, Mozart certainly knew his way around a dance tune. But to have three completely different dances playing at the same time—and make them sound harmonious? That takes some serious skill… Fortunately, we can leave this particular feat of musical wizardry to Mozart.
The second act contains fewer spectacular arias that could stand alone as hit numbers. Don Giovanni does, however, return to Donna Elvira’s window to serenade her, accompanied by a mandolin (“Deh! vieni alla finestra”). Like his duet with Zerlina, the scene makes us feel distinctly uneasy. As listeners, we know the Don does not mean a word of it, yet we still find ourselves swept away—seduced, even—by the beautiful music…
The real spectacle comes in the finale of Act II. Once again, there is a feast, although this time it is not a dance but a musical dinner. As was common at the time, the guests are entertained with arrangements of popular opera arias: one from Una cosa rara by Vicente Martín y Soler, another from Fra i due litiganti il terzo gode by Giuseppe Sarti, and the aria “Non più andrai” from Mozart’s own Figaro! Then the Stone Guest appears, accompanied by the arrival of the divine trombone. From that point on, the music speaks for itself. The opera concludes with a quiet final number in which those left behind reflect on the moral of the story.
Performers
Rodney Gilfry (Don Giovanni), Andrea Silvestrelli (Il Commendatore), Luba Orgonasova (Donna Anna), Christoph Prégardien (Don Ottavio), Charlotte Margiono (Donna Elvira), Ildebrando D’Arcangelo (Leporello), Julian Clarkson (Masetto), Eirian James (Zerlina). The English Baroque Soloists and The Monteverdi Choir, conducted by John Eliot Gardiner.
