by David Kulma

A stepmother doesn’t like her stepson, kills him, and feeds him to his unwitting father. The boy’s bones are buried under a juniper by his younger sister, and thereby — in fairy-tale fashion — his soul inhabits a bird in the tree above. The boy-bird sings so beautifully that he receives a gold chain, red shoes, and a millstone from passing men. He drops each of these as a gift for a family member. Of course, the dropped stone is the means to kill his stepmother, and just as miraculously, the boy returns to human form. And all is well for the happy family.

The static, abstracted character of Glass’s other operas — like Einstein on the Beach (1975) and Satyagraha (1979) — achieve a kind of hyper-Baroque splendor through repetition of solfege syllables, nonsensical English, and Sanskrit. But with the direct English prose of The Juniper Tree, his towering repetition veers toward the trite.

The performance itself was fantastic with great singing all around. Emma Nossem’s gripping Stepmother was fiendish in her anger, and powerfully hurt in her jealousy aria. Christophe Kennedy’s resonant Father was loving and doting, while Kayle Norris’s clarion voice was affecting in her role as the first Wife, who dies in childbirth. Rachel Glenn’s sad, timid Daughter was moving, while Polina Davydov’s delightful Son/Bird was variously joyful, cautious, and celebratory.

Dave Brooks’ set and lightning were minimal, yet effective: a door, various chairs, and a rolling countertop set the scene. Inda Blatch-Geib’s rural 19th-century German costumes were lovely, and the garments and headpieces for the birds were just right. Since English is often hard to understand in opera, supertitles would have been helpful.

Photos by Robert Muller.
Published on ClevelandClassical.com November 6, 2019.
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