The barely legal lives of women in polygamous marriages may seem like fertile ground for an opera. Dark Sisters, composed by Nico Muhly with a libretto by Stephen Karam, has many attractive moments in music and story, yet demonstrates the difficulties of drawing art from life.
At the start of the show we meet five sister wives who are part of the Fundamental Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (FLDS), somewhere in the American Southwest. Through stylized gesture and movement they mourn the loss of their children, who have been abducted by authorities in a raid. We hear the most from one wife, Eliza, who soliloquizes her misgivings about her powerless life, and her fears that her teenage daughter will suffer the same fate. In the second act, the women are interviewed on a television talk show, where Eliza and the mentally unstable Ruth suffer breakdowns. The children are returned, Ruth kills herself, and when Eliza arrives at the funeral in modern dress – indicating that she will leave the family – she is spurned by her daughter, who chooses to stay with the only home she’s known rather than venture out into the outside world with her mother.
Muhly’s music is attractive, especially to people who would otherwise avoid new music. His writing for voice shows a welcome understanding of vocal technique, and he sets the text in instinctive, meaningful ways. He never makes the chamber ensemble struggle to sound like a full orchestra, though this comes at the expense of a broader sonic sweep. The piece is well crafted, with scenes intuitively moving into each other, and none of the self-conscious moments that can happen with opera in English.
The most interesting passage came at the beginning, with a nearly a cappella five-voiced fugue for the mourning women. Eliza’s aria, sung under the stars, was a touching line of wide intervals over harp and glockenspiel, like a music box. Other than a few intimate moments that had a voice singing with one or two instruments, most of the accompaniment came from the strings, with winds employed for additional power, but rarely color. A wind machine made a couple of appearances, but so incongruously that it could have been mistaken for noise from a backstage set change. Pop-inspired techniques abounded (ostinato patterns, driving rhythms), and like a pop song, never pushed us out of our emotional comfort zone.