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Proserpine’s Adventure München
Nationaltheater
06/27/2025 - & June 30, July 4*, 6, 8, 2025, January 22, 25, 30, 2026
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Don Giovanni, K. 527
Vera-Lotte Boecker (Donna Anna), Samantha Hankey*/Julia Kleiter (Donna Elvira), Avery Amereau*/Erika Baikoff (Zerlina), Konstantin Krimmel (Don Giovanni), Kyle Ketelsen*/Michael Sumuel (Leporello), Giovanni Sala*/Julian Prégardien (Don Ottavio), Michael Mofidian*/Pawel Horodyski (Masetto), Christof Fischesser (Il Commendatore), Andrea Scarfi (Pluto), Erica D’Amico (Proserpina)
Chor der Bayerischen Staatsoper, Christoph Heil (chorus master), Bayerisches Staatsorchester, Vladimir Jurowski*/Constantin Trinks (conductor)
David Hermann (stage director), Jo Schramm (sets), Sibylle Wallin (costumes), Felice Ross (lights), Jean‑Philippe Guilois (choreography), Olaf Roth (dramaturgy)
V.-L. Boecker (© Geoffroy Schied)
“Resti dunque quel birbon con Proserpina e Pluton!” (“So the wretch can stay down there with Proserpine and Pluto”) is the penultimate phrase in the Epilogue, “Ah, dov’è il perfido?”, that ends Don Giovanni. This one short reference may be the basis of Franco‑German director David Hermann’s original staging of Mozart’s masterpiece of the serial seducer.
In Roman mythology, Proserpine, daughter of Zeus and Ceres, goddess of agriculture, was abducted by Pluto, god of the Underworld. The protesting Ceres made Jupiter force Pluto to make a compromise: Proserpine may return to her mother for six months every year, generating the seasons: Summer and Spring when she is above ground, Winter and Autumn when she is in the Underworld.
During the overture, the story of Proserpine is projected through the surtitles and a vision of Hell is shown through projections of flames. Two characters inhabit this terrifying space, both are elf‑like, skinny, overly pale and with long blond almost white hair. The male figure, Pluto, has the ears of an elf. Suddenly, the female figure, Proserpine ascends from Hell into Donna Anna’s bedroom in the opera’s opening scene.
I find it unlikely that a simple reference to these two characters from Roman mythology was the source of Hermann’s inspiration. It may have sparked something, an allusion to the immortal gods. A more likely reason is the director’s realisation that Don Giovanni is an almost god‑like mythical figure in Western lore. Indeed, the myths of Don Juan and Faust are the two most prominent themes in Western literature. The 1960 film Djävulens öga (“The Devil’s Eye”) by Ingmar Bergman was one of the first to suggest the Devil sending back Don Juan for an adventure among mortals. A parallel may be seen here between Bergman’s film and Hermann’s original idea.
Using Proserpine’s story, Hermann rewrites Da Ponte’s libretto by making the entire opera an adventure by Proserpine who resurfaces for half the year on Earth and finds herself in the skin of Don Giovanni. This is quite an ingenious idea that harks back to stories from mythology, Greco‑Roman or otherwise, of gods who take human shape and have fun playing with mortals. Proserpine’s own gender and past experience of having been abducted by a male god and forced to be his wife makes her assuming Don Giovanni’s identity quite a challenge. Perhaps it explains Don Giovanni’s controversial lack of success with any of his three potential conquests. During the opera (in the actual libretto), every attempt at sexual intercourse is interrupted or fizzles. During her adventure as Don Giovanni, it may only be natural for a female, though divine, not to want to cause harm to another female.
The account is peppered with episodes of Proserpine exiting Don Giovanni’s body, as if in horror or protestation, such as when he is on the verge of raping Don Elvira’s maid (ingeniously played by Zerlina in this staging) in Act II. The same bodysnatching is practiced by Pluto himself, sometimes out of jealousy and other times simply out of jest. One example is the cemetery scene in Act II, though here it is in a morgue, where he enters into Il Commendatore’s corpse to retort to Don Giovanni’s dinner invitation.
Hermann takes the increasingly popular view that Anna was a willing partner and not a victim of rape. Her father, Il Commendatore, interrupts them and hence the confrontation that leads to the old man’s death. Donna Anna’s grief and rage are both sincere, though the rage is more against herself than against her lover. Vera‑Lotte Boecker’s Donna Anna was phenomenal; this is one amazing Mozartian dramatic soprano, endowed with a beautiful and pure timbre, extreme ease in the upper register and excellent diction. Though she reaches high in the stratosphere in her first aria “Or sai che l’onor,” she does not play Anna as a crazed hysteric; rather this a broken woman distraught with guilt.
Jo Schramm’s sets could not be described as beautiful, but they were sober, effective and brilliantly conceived. Like a child’s toy, they fold into one other. Donna Anna’s bedroom folds into a municipal office for marriage licenses. Don Giovanni is on the premises hunting for young brides. Elvira arrives possibly to get a copy of her own marriage license or to make inquiries about Don Giovanni’s marital status. Zerlina and Masetto are there to get their own license.
American bass-baritone Kyle Ketelsen’s voice contrasted well with German baritone Konstantin Krimmel’s Don Giovanni. Ketelsen impressed as Méphistophélès in Faust in Toronto last season. Though some prefer Don Giovanni and his servant to have similar voices as an allusion to Leporello being Don Giovanni’s alter ego, I much prefer clearly distinct voices. I also prefer Leporello to have the lower and darker voice, as it allows for more comedic colour.
Leporello’s catalogue aria “Madamina,. il catalogo è questo” was brilliantly staged in the municipal office. In lieu of a book, Ketelsen simply pulled the long ribbon of paper from the waiting number dispenser at the office. When he referred to the number of conquests in each country, the number appeared on the screen announcing the number being served.
Krimmel’s Don Giovanni was elegant and well sung, though his emphasis on words was wanting. This was a loss, as Da Ponte’s libretto is one of the greatest. Pivotal passages, such as “E un’impostura della gente plebea”, “Chi a una sola è fedele, verso l’altra è crudele” and “Tu ch’hai la bocca dolce più del miele,” were unremarkable. His champagne aria, “Fin ch’han dal vino,” had a mischievously non‑frenetic tempo, a brilliant effect by superb conductor Vladimir Jurowski, indicating that Don Giovanni, now possessed by Proserpine, was not living frantically but savouring his/her adventure. His Act II “Deh! vieni alla finestra” was well sung but not convincingly seductive. This ambiguity was disturbing; the possessed Don Giovanni did not inspire sufficient authority. Was it a weakness on Krimmel’s part or was it intentional?
American mezzo Samantha Hankey was a revelation as Donna Elvira. Here is a rare case where a mezzo can assume the lyric soprano role with absolutely no controversy. Of course the reason is that her mezzo classification is too limiting. Hankey simply has it all: a brilliant and appealing timbre, well supported low notes, total ease in the upper register and marvellous trills that make her voice immediately recognizable. She could have even sung the dramatic soprano role Donna Anna, but Boecker was perfectly suited for the role. The two voices blended well in their many ensemble passages, and both were distinct and easily recognizable. Hankey’s entrance aria “Ah, chi mi dice mai” was grand; an indication that a woman of determined character has arrived, and one endowed with a superlative voice. Her Act II aria “Mi tradì quell’alma ingrata” was the most memorable moment of the evening.
The finale of Act I is Don Giovanni’s grand party, where he invites Zerlina, Masetto and their friends with the intention of seducing Zerlina. Don Giovanni, now possessed by Proserpine, has acquired eclectic tastes and offers his guest to dress in lavish costumes indicative of Dionysian taste and inspired by the paintings of Giuseppe Arcimboldo (1526‑1593).
American mezzo Avery Amereau was a luminous Zerlina, a rare attribute to ascribe to the peasant girl. Amereau’s voice is so rich that for once she is an equal to Donna Anna and Elvira. Her often irritating Act I aria “Batti, batti, o bel Masetto” was a delight.
Italian tenor Giovanni Sala, reputedly a Mozart specialist, was an excellent Riccardo in last year’s production of Un ballo in maschera in Bussetto (Parma). It is a great pleasure to hear an Italian tenor voice in the role of Ottavio, and to be spared the bland white voices that make the character more emasculated than necessary. Sala was a virile Don Ottavio, both vocally and dramatically, but his voice lacked the necessary purity. Nonetheless, he managed the high notes in the Act II aria “Il mio tesoro” well interpreted thanks to his excellent diction and brilliant acting. His Act I aria, “Dalla sua pace” was cut, perhaps wisely. When following the original Prague (1787) rather than the Vienna (1788) version of Don Giovanni, this aria is omitted, as is Elvira’s “Mi tradì quell’alma ingrata,” which mercifully was included here.
Another brilliant idea by Hermann was setting the Act II sextet “Sola, sola in buio loco”, usually set in a maze where Leporello tries to escape the overly eager Elvira, to a courtroom in the municipal building seen in the first Act. Indeed, the condemnations by Ottavio, Anna, Masetto and Zerlina sound like a prosecutor’s arguments. Leporello’s attempts to clear himself sounded like a defendant’s pleas. Finally, Elvira’s initial intercession sounded like a lawyer’s defence.
The final dinner scene, in which the statue of Il Commendatore arrives to take Don Giovanni to Hell, was a stroke of genius on several fronts. Sibylle Wallin surpassed herself in designing costumes for the four seasons, inspired, as in Act I’s finale, by the paintings of Arcimboldo: a green Summer, serving fruit; a pink Spring, fowl and lobster; a beige Autumn, vegetables; and a white Winter, pudding and ice cream. The sensuality and beauty of this tableau showed Don Giovanni acquiring a feminine taste for beauty thanks to Proserpine who is now part of him. The genius of director Hermann is that he discretely recounts the origin of the seasons according to Greco‑Roman mythology for the cognoscenti, while providing an aesthetically alluring image for the rest of the public.
As Il Commendatore (possessed by Pluto) comes to play his part, Don Giovanni (possessed by Proserpine) remains calm. The six months are up, and he’s there to take back his wife to the Underworld. But his crafty wife has a ruse up her sleeve, she lets him take Don Giovanni to Hell just as she swiftly exits the latter’s body. Vladimir Jurowski’s tempi in this pivotal scene was essential for its success. Without excess, the terror expressed by the orchestra brilliantly contrasted with Don Giovanni’s seeming indifference.
In the Epilogue, Proserpine joins the six protagonists while flirting with Zerlina. As the line “Resti dunque quel birbon con Proserpina e Pluton!” is sung, the now free Proserpine takes possession of poor Masetto’s body to realize a new adventure with Zerlina. It’s fun to be a male and a bodysnatcher, at least for now. It certainly beats being an abused wife in Hell!
Ossama el Naggar
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