In Holten’s hands the overture becomes a visual as well as a musical tour de force. Luke Halls’ video design starts small, scrawling a single woman’s name on the grey stone facade. Soon, however, the trickle swells to a torrent as a catalogue of sexual conquests appear before our eyes. Projections are a constant throughout with scribbles, ink blots and splashes of blood spattering scenery and singers alike. In the famous Champagne Aria, images of buildings, rooms and staircases rotate at dizzying speed with the Don standing in the eye of the storm anticipating his latest binge. Remarkably, they rarely distract from the action, a testament to Bruno Poet’s dextrous lighting design.
Holten places an appropriately intense focus on the title character as he spirals out of control. At first the upstairs rooms are haunted by a handful of ghostly exes. By the end, as the Don’s grasp on reality recedes, they’ve become legion. Even Leporello joins them, his face now white as a ghost. The Commendatore doesn’t drag Giovanni down to hell, he simply leaves him drained and alone, deprived of sexual gratification for eternity.
Gordon Bintner plays Giovanni as a jaded Lothario, his bass-baritone at its ringing best when singing full out. He’s well paired with Roberto Tagliavini’s beefy-voiced, hangdog Leporello. As Donna Elvira, Aigul Akhmetshina offers power and passion in a standout performance. Rachel Willis-Sørensen delivers plenty of decibels as Donna Anna, though she could use a touch more flexibility at the very top. Bogdan Volkov is her sweet-toned Ottavio, especially effective in the two big arias. Giulia Semenzato sings extremely prettily as Zerlina, Dingle Yandell is a clarion, characterful Masetto and Andreas Bauer Kanabas a forceful Commendatore.
Stefano Montanari conducts a punchy account of the score, his phrasing generally attentive to voices, though there were occasional coordination problems between pit and stage.