Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Don Giovanni

I am madly in love with this son of a bitch, someone whose life philosophy can be summed up as "who to one is faithful to others is cruel" is worthy of the greatest admiration.

Dongio, for those who don't know, is considered Wolfgang Amadeus's masterpiece, someone who knew a thing or two about extramarital affairs. They say he was a Freemason, but I know well what kind of "masses" he was involved with.

Well, maybe I've been limiting, Dongio is "the opera," no doubt about it, Wagner, Verdi, Rossini, and all the others, sorry to their fans, but they are a step below. But let's go in order, and start with the plot, the story needs to be framed: Dongio sleeps with everything that moves, basically, he does it in Seville, where he lives, but international romps are not lacking, on the contrary. He goes around with his servant Leporello, who keeps his sexual accounting, besides holding the candle. Obviously, someone who sows his wild oats all the time will break some hearts, and here's poor Donna Elvira, banged/dumped in the blink of an eye, but never resigned (first aside: I mean, with someone like that, do you want to start a family?).

One evening, Dongio tries to make a move on Donna Anna, a slut who doesn't know she is one, who after being approached calls for help (second aside: this type of woman is very strange, first they let you smell it, then they magically remember they have a beau and when someone makes a move, they run away). Her father arrives, known as the Comendatore, Dongio puts his penis back in his pants and draws his sword, killing him (third aside, the dialogue between Dongio and Leporello, a spectacle: "who is dead, you or the old man?" "what a stupid question! the old man" "Bravo, two graceful deeds, forcing the daughter and killing the father").

The rest of the story is: Dongio intent on his work of finding pussy, but when he finds it and hooks it - Zerlina the peasant - Donna Elvira arrives and ruins the mood, penis put back again, escape and scheme entrusted to Leporello (fourth aside: Zerlina the next day was supposed to do something as ordinary as getting married and she was falling for it like a ripe pear, another dazzling example of a woman, eh?). The narrative tangle eventually raises the suspicion that it is indeed Dongio who is the murderer of Donna Anna's father (fifth aside: the coup de theatre of Donna Anna recognizing in him the movements of the assassin, but then having to explain to her clueless fiancé how she was home at night with a man, and the guy buys the whole story, these women, genius, eh?). When they are all resolved to make him pay for it, except for Donna Elvira who is, well, a pathological case and begs him to repent (and sleep with her again), the dead man is fed up with everyone and everything and re-enters the scene while Dongio is dining with pheasant and Marzemino. Infernal handshake, dinner invitation from the old man to the other world, Dongio accepts, the floor opens up and the flames engulf him, to the despair of Leporello, the only one present. The end.

Now a good critical analysis of the opera is needed, music by Wolfgang and lyrics by Da Ponte. I call upon the muse of Seriousness for help. Self-defined "drama giocoso," an oxymoron. The oxymoron is the key to the opera. If you lose sight of it, you no longer understand. An oxymoron is the overture, a funereal start, apocalyptic trumpets and trombones, then a cheerful pastoral shift, and a triumphal march finale. Wolfgang is warning us, don't take things too seriously, we speak of tragic matters, even sex can be tragic, but you must always keep a smile ready. Smiling while crying or crying while laughing, you can do everything while listening to Dongio. Everything is legitimate, watch what the libertine does and learn.
An oxymoron is the coexistence of the grace that hovers on stage and the looming tragedy, with the music ready to create now somber, now joyful atmospheres, in the flick of a sheet of score, you move from the spasm of the Dongio-Donna Anna encounter, descend into the abyss of the lament for the death of the Comendatore to rise to heaven with the surreal humor of the cited dialogue with Leporello. Everything comes in waves, Wolfgang caresses you only to punch you, heals your wounds to pour salt into them.

There is no room for fake feelings here. The one who wins (by dying) is the one who is true. And the music mercilessly reveals everyone. Ottavio, the cuckolded fiancé, is ridiculous, and the more proud and dignified his arias, the more pathetic the character results. Donna Anna is only true when she weeps for her father, the music supports her when she asks Ottavio to kill the killer, but abandons her when she confesses the dynamics of that night. Zerlina is only true when she falls into Dongio's love game (the sweetest aria of the entire opera, "Là ci darem la mano", Wolfgang reserves it for her), but is fake when she asks the future husband to beat her for punishment. Elvira, the eternal lover, seduces the audience with the furious grace of her laments, until being exposed in the final scene, where the white weapon assault on the heart of someone about to meet death is ridiculous and untimely, as she has always been. And then Leporello, the one with the catalog of conquests and a thousand witty remarks, the one who picks up the crumbs left by his master, the one who is liked because he simply makes you laugh. But what a pity the final scene, hidden under the table to not see, and how sad his final words, "and I go to the tavern to find a better master", where laughing is no longer possible, condemned by a life lived by reflection.

He, Dongio, is the one that Mozart never abandons. He gives him sweet music for seduction and tempestuous music for escape, joyful music for revelry, and daring music to mock both the living and the dead. Not even in the end does he abandon him, where he literally puffs up his chest and pushes him to spit his life cry in the face of death: "My heart is firm in my chest, I have no fear, I will come". And how could he have abandoned him? It would have been like abdicating himself.

Epilogue

I'm not a great expert on operas, you may have noticed, I have no title to speak about them, and I apologize to the enthusiasts (also, but not too much, for the phrase about Verdi and Rossini). These things are bigger than me, and I know it well. But precisely for this, I wanted to tell those who think they are not up to it that it is worth it, you don't need to understand everything in-depth, and it is "easier" than one might think. As a frequenter of rock concerts, one day I found myself in a suit and tie at La Scala, and they didn't throw me out... Mozart is a giant, but I assure you that his Dongio is one of the most complete musical experiences you can encounter. You can live more lightly without being light, that's what he taught me.