"A visionary creation by Yehuda Glantz, this eclectic opera masterfully blends innovation and tradition, offering a compelling message of hope, resilience, and redemption within a plot of jealousy and betrayal."

The Dream That Gave Birth to an Opera

One night, during a very difficult time in my life, I had a dream that marked me forever.
It wasn’t one of those dreams that fade away and are soon forgotten. No.
It was clear. It was revealing. For a long time, I had been carrying heavy burdens: complicated family issues, jealousy, envy, anger toward my brothers, wounds that had never really healed.
The kind of story that repeats itself in so many families—when silence, ego, inheritance, and everything we drag along collide. And right there, in the middle of that tangled knot, the dream came. a movie, I found myself alone in a vast desert. But I didn’t feel empty. It was a silence full of presence… as if the entire universe was there, quietly breathing.
The sky, immense and full of stars, felt alive. Suddenly, a warm light appeared.
It didn’t burn or blind me—it embraced me.
And from that light, a figure emerged. I recognized him immediately: my father.
But it wasn’t how I remembered him at the end of his life.
It was him, yes, but with a different energy. He was whole, at peace. With a soft voice, he said to me:
“Julito… You have a gift. It’s not just yours. It was given to you to be shared.
What will you do with that gift now?
How will you transform all this pain into something that brings goodness to others?”

And then, as if opening a door for me, he said something that still sends shivers down my spine:
“Tell the story of Joseph, because his story is also part of yours.
You know what it is to be the different one. You know what it means to fall, to wait, and to rise again.
Make it music. Let your art carry that message.
You can create something powerful with this.”

I tried to embrace him, but his figure began to fade…
I woke up with a deep sense of peace.
It was five in the morning. I got up and couldn’t go back to sleep.

I kept thinking about the dream.
At first, I didn’t understand which Joseph he was referring to. I searched through our family past.
Joseph? A friend of my father? A neighbor?...
I flipped through the album of memories but couldn’t find him.

Until later that day, it hit me.

I remembered Joseph, the son of Jacob.
Years ago, I had recorded a cassette telling the story of how he was sold by his brothers.
And then, the message became clear.

Immediately, I dove into that narrative, which moved me to tears, like melodies—when the first notes of inspiration for the song “Healing the Past” began to emerge.
It was a deep response to an inner calling.

Without hesitation, filled with emotion and anticipation, I began writing, composing, and arranging the entire opera.
Since that moment, I’ve devoted myself full-time to this project.
It’s been more than ten months of composition, and I hope to present “Joseph the Dreamer” as a way of healing through music.

I feel this work was born from the wound… but also as a free gift from the Creator.
A gift born from my father’s love, who came to me in a dream to remind me of who I am—
and why I’m here.

Yehuda Glantz

"The melody of a tear can become a hymn of redemption."

Healing the Past: The Origin of an Opera