In The Juniper Tree, an interrelationship between the ethereal and terrestrial seems to cloak the ever-present Icelandic landscape. The film, written and directed by Nietzchka Keene in 1986 and released in 1990, is disbelieving of binaries such as life and death, natural and supernatural, stillness and unrest. It is perhaps best known as the genesis point for Björk’s career as an actor, but in its compelling feminist retelling of the Brothers Grimm story of the same name it recasts tropes of witches and wicked stepmothers as women in tune with nature’s gifts and fighting for survival under the suspicious gaze of patriarchy.
Throughout, the land dwarfs the characters, and a sense of studied quietude saturates even the tensest moments. Tenderness and terror intertwine as a web of familial bonds contract and unravel, the dead reappearing as visions and as birds.
In 2025, Japanese composer Midori Hirano was commissioned by Kunstencentrum Viernulvier to create a new soundtrack to the film for their acclaimed Videodroom series, in which contemporary experimentalists reimagine the musical accompaniment of classic arthouse cinema. Her sonic vision for The Juniper Tree is imbued with the same sense of restraint as the film, hushed in both its moments of beauty and intensity. Hirano presents piano compositions that are steeped in minimalism, but speak with a delicate language that signifies the emotional bonds shared by the characters, especially the sister witches Katla and Margit. Elsewhere, synthesizers emerge from supple silences, their tones felted and intimate, even as they are paired with images of stark Icelandic vistas. Despite the music’s gravity, it floats weightlessly, featherlike, on the ear.
