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The cast of Detlev Glanert's Die Jüdin von Toledo | Photo: Ludwig Olah

Die Jüdin von Toledo, Detlev Glanert's new opera, opens with a whisper, not a bang. A delicate oud solo flutters through Dresden's Semperoper, a fleetingly thin texture in an otherwise vast musical landscape. Glanert's strength is in the granular detail: flute flourishes atop rolling brass, rumbling timpani and tolling bells. The latter envelope the opera's themes of conflict and destruction. There's disquiet between the two sisters, who appear in the first scene, as Esther tries to prevent Rahel from breaking into the royal garden. Then, there's unease between the Queen and King, who constantly fiddles with his tie in his ongoing preoccupation. These disagreements carry heavy implications: domestic arguments soon turn into full-blown war; the fifth act is punctuated by murder and international crisis.

The period of Robert Carsen's staging is modern, but anonymous – the chorus wears black, the King looks like he's at the funeral of a distant relative, and Rahel and Esther's costumes acknowledge Jewish traditional dress. It is in the final scene, as the chorus collects machine guns from an altar and a digital backdrop – the only videography used throughout the production – shows images of bombed cities that the setting truly feels contemporary. The slow reveal is impactful, and enhances Glanert's technicolour score.

Heidi Stober as Rahel and Christoph Pohl as the King | Photo: Ludwig Olah

There is a problem, though: the libretto. Based on Franz Grillparzer’s 1851 play, Hans-Ulrich Treichel's text casts Rahel as a dominating temptress ('She makes him follow her on all fours', according to the court) and, later, suspected political spy, while the Queen is a cold-hearted Lady Macbeth figure. (Glanert and Treichel have collaborated on two other operas, Caligula, 2006 and Oceane, 2016-18.) The men don't fare much better: Spanish King Alfonso VIII is pathetic in his adultery, literally overcome by his mistress and wife, who suggestively bear down on him on stage. The court bays for blood, and thus we find ourselves with yet another opera about femicide. It doesn't matter that none of the characters are especially likeable (although one wonders why the misogynistic themes, so ubiquitous in older work, held appeal for a new opera), but the religious aspect – a Jewish woman breaking up a Christian marriage and causing war in the process – has potential for offence. Perhaps too, the not-so-subtle religious symbolism (breaking of bread and use of scarves).

Considerable effort is made to contextualise that central relationship through music and staging. As with Britten's The Rape of Lucretia, questionable characterisation is wrought into a compelling opera. Glanert's beautifully crafted music, which remains rooted in Germanic tradition (comparisons might be drawn with Wagner, Berg or even Mahler) references 12th-century Toledo with nods to Islam, Judaism and Christianity (Nassib Ahmadieh is the oud player). The Staatskapelle Dresden are surefooted, with an excellent main cast. Glanert makes interesting use of the large chorus, shifting to a chorale-like promise to serve the Queen in her murderess ambition. As Rahel, Heidi Stober is mesmerising, both in her arias with the Christoph Pohl (the King) and Lilly Jørstad (Esther).

Until 8 March at Semperoper Dresden | semperoper.de