Have you ever wondered why there are so masks, disguises and character confusion in Mozart's operas? They make for good comedy and lively entertainment, but have you ever noticed how creepy it gets at times?

Nearly every opera of Mozart's has some kind of masking, unmasking and disguises galore. Even in the "Magic Flute" you could say that the Queen of the Night is wearing the mask of goodness when she's really out to destroy the "good guys" of the Sun Temple. The Sun Priests, likewise, "unmask" their true identity with the benevolence of a fatherly Sarastro.

"Don Giovanni" in particular, has always been of interest to me on this issue. There is masking, disguises and (best of all) ghosts in this opera. Don Giovanni begins with disguising himself as Donna Anna's fiancée. Then there is the whole Leporello, Don Giovanni switching scene at the beginning of the Second Act. Don Giovanni, too, tries to keep on a "mask" of honesty, loyalty and goodness, which he is not. The end of "Don Giovanni" in itself seems to come right out of a spooky ghost story: grave yards, ghostly voices, and the avenging soul of a slain victim coming to take revenge on its murderer.

The one thing that strikes me also in this opera are the masks that Donna Anna, Don Ottavio and Donna Elvira wear when they are attending Don Giovanni's ball near the conclusion of Act One. In each production I've seen, they mask themselves so they might conceal their identity, but they are not wearing festive, bright costumes. They are always wearing black cloaks and usually white masks. This makes them look death-like, almost harbingers of death to Don Giovanni. In some productions they even wear skull masks. Sometimes the stage becomes so dark the white masks seem to float, almost headless, from the blackness.

This is a very bizarre and creepy element of the opera. It reminds me of the "messenger in grey" Mozart encountered at the end of his life. I've often wondered if this type of presentation alludes to the end of Mozart's life.

Have you seen different presentations of "Don Giovanni" and the "creepy maskers"? Do you think such presentations allude to the "man in grey"?

It's always interesting to draw biographical parallels between an artist's work and his or her life. It's also a risky enterprise. In Mozart's case, certainly, we need look no further than the film "Amadeus" to see the accumulated result of 200 hundred years of faulty scholarship.

Still, given the apparent circumstances of his life -- and considering the mysteries which to this day surround the circumstances of his death and burial -- the tendency to romanticize is delicious and almost irresistible. Problems arise, however, when we drag into this the sublime achievement of his music. This goes doubly for his operas, which stand as the most intricate, sophisticated and labored of his works.

Disguises, mistaken identities and role reversals have been popular dramatic devices throughout history. Sophocles used them, Shakespeare used them; the list goes on. And at no time were they more popular than in the 18th century, when masked balls were the rage and pre-Lenten "carnivals" were celebrated at all levels of society and even royalty liked to retreat to the country to dress as shepherds and shepherdesses and play out pastoral fantasies. Plot-wise, Mozart and Da Ponte accomplished nothing new in this regard. They were trying, quite naturally, to write "hits," and so naturally they availed themselves of the popular dramatic language of the day.

It's also important to note that neither "Don Giovanni" nor "The Marriage of Figaro" -- operas in which disguises figure prominently -- are original works. Barring some tinkering for the music's sake, their plots cannot be attributed to composer or librettist.

As for "The Magic Flute," from a plot standpoint it remains problematic in key respects. For one thing, it appears from recent scholarship that this opera, in the version we know it, may have departed significantly from the version Mozart wrote and Schikaneder produced and staged.

Lastly, there's Count Walsegg and "the grey stranger" and all that. A lot of the mythology surrounding the "Requiem" dissolves when you consider that Mozart hadn't written a mass in nine years -- probably because he didn't like writing liturgical music and avoided it whenever he could -- and probably he wouldn't have undertaken this one if it weren't for the money.

So, does Mozart's music harbor some artistic premonition of his death? In a way, we'd all like to believe it. Don't we all seek solutions to the riddles that history has buried forever? And in Mozart's case isn't the music, for the most part, all the "evidence" we have?

In a way, though, it's unfortunate that we are accustomed by the age we live in to view the artist as a tragic figure. For Mozart's music tells precisely the opposite story. That is the foundation of its universal appeal and its enduring glory.

-- Jim Rutherford