As I was standing in Clowes Hall's outer lobby waiting for a companion and watching the throngs from all ages, races, and ethnic persuasions pour into a sold-out house, I mused over what Mozart might have thought. How would he have reacted if he had known Don Giovanni, which he had written in 1787--"a little for Prague, not at all for Vienna, and mostly for myself"--would not only be holding the boards 214 years later but packing opera houses all over the world and hailed by many as the world's greatest opera? Attending Indianapolis Opera's third production of the season to share in a vicarious enjoyment with all these people didn't provide me any answers, but it did re-intensify my curiosity about what makes this two-act opera so special--even among Mozart's stage oeuvre.

The production, a good, substantial one, nevertheless did not strike me as one of IO's best efforts. The lack of any truly outstanding voices among the principals contributed to this impression. Soprano Stephanie Dawn Johnson's Donna Anna was the best sung female role. Her projection of anguish in her early dramatic duet with her betrothed Don Ottavio, "Fuggi, crudelle, fuggi!" was palpable. And her promise of vengeance in her later aria, "Or sai chi l'onore" was most believable. On the other hand she handled the wistfulness and the ensuing vocal pyrotechnics in her late Act II aria, "Non mi dir," with excellent finesse.

Baritone Luis Ledesma (making his first IO appearance) sang the title role with enough verve to compensate partially for his limited voice, which actually projected best in his low tenor range. In other words, he did present a dashing libertine, whose female conquests were the stuff of legend. In Mozart and his librettist Lorenzo da Ponte's version, however, his attempts with the three principals, Donna Anna, Donna Elvira, and the peasant girl, Zerlina, were singularly unsuccessful.

Donna Elvira was sung by soprano Stella Zambalis, and, as the one previous Giovanni conquest, she showed that her pretty head could still be turned, given the Don's persuasive prowess, following her vow of vengeance in her dramatic Act I aria, "Ah, fuggi il traditor." But later her ambivalent feelings, so beautifully emoted in her Act II "Mi tradì quell'alma ingrata" were left unrevealed--as that was one of the two arias cut, to keep this production under the three-hour limit.

Julia Anne Wolf sang Zerlina, who was betrothed to the bumpkin, Masetto, but whom the Don partially seduced away from him, persuading her in their famous duet, "Là ci darem la mano." She made a proper restitution to her man in the almost blatantly seductive, "Vedrai, carino."

Bass-baritone John Ames sang most convincingly Donna Anna's father, the Commendatore, murdered by the Don at the opera's opening as he was trying to defend his daughter from the latter's rapacious attack. His reappearance in the Act II Finale as the statuesque ghost was made tellingly powerful by Mozart's music, as he was dragging the Don to his dissolute destiny.

Foppish Don Ottavio, sung by tenor Mark Thomsen, had one of his two arias, the beautiful "Dalla sua pace," also go under this production's knife. This only left the enormously difficult "Il mio tesoro" for him to tackle, in which he, too, swears vengeance against the Don, but is incapable and impotent when it comes to action. Thomsen handled the challenging aria reasonably well.

The Don's servant, Leporello, featuring baritone Steven Condy, is the opera's most beloved character, and Condy proved up to the task of delivering the comically clever recitative lines. He also put heart and soul into his famous Catalogue Aria, impressing Elvira with a booklet listing the Don's conquests (in Spain it was "1,003").

IO Artistic Director and conductor James Caraher led the Indianapolis Chamber Orchestra in a fairly precise but somewhat lackluster performance. The wind parts, so crucial to coloring the moods throughout, were, however, well highlighted.

Set designer Lawrence Schafer had impressive backdrops of the Don's manor house, with ornate balconies upstage on either side. A drop curtain made the Supper Scene more intimate until the Commendatore's ominous appearance.

While disliking the cutting of the two arias mentioned above, I could understand the time concern (crossing the three hour threshold would have meant paying the cast and crew for an extra hour).  However, I thought it wholly unconscionable that a good portion of the final sextet was abbreviated by substituting a "rewritten" bridge between its earlier part and its coda. This has some of Mozart's most advanced, most beautiful ensemble writing and not one note should ever be cut. Rather, the two or three minutes of "lost" Mozart should have been cut from one of the more extended recitatives, where the loss would have been far less consequential.