Aldeburgh Music, based at Snape Maltings in deep, desirable Suffolk, hosted composer Anna Meredith’s latest musical treat, an opera penned by Philip Ridley called Tarantula in Petrol Blue. Months of development and weeks of rehearsal culminated in an audacious production, a challenge to bring opera to the modern audience by manifesting it with the spirit of contemporary musical theatre; it’s a welcome evolution from cheese like High School – if any comparison should be made at all.

Tarantula is punchy and physical, and direct; certainly not fusty and detached. It is shaped as much by the energy of its actors – a mix of trained and amateur – as by the professional determination of its young creators. The tale centres on a group of kids in Bethnal Green, East London; the cityscape formed by broken homes, torn hearts, revenge, hoodies, and skaters. Immersed in this world are Lydia (Lucy Harris), a creative loner who sculpts fantasy creatures out of junk, and Joey (Luke Brady), charmed by Lydia’s whacky interpretation of the world, yet coerced into humiliating her by girl-grouper Flavia (Tanya Edwards).

So spins the story’s web of entangled threads: the characters caught up in a sequence of events that lead to the materialisation of a welded giant spider and a tragic resolution. It’s classic Ridley storytelling: menacing, with an undercurrent of magic and myth. Tarantula in Petrol Blue is a solid ensemble effort, from actors such as tall Sam Wright (Doc), who dominates the stage with his presence, and Danny Kirrane (Dagga), a mean hobbit in a hoodie, to the young chorus of singers auditioned from local schools; from set construction, to sound production, to the musicians in the pit. Obvious as it might sound to praise the lot, but Tarantula succeeds because the package is a neat collection of talented individuals.

With ninety minutes of unbroken music, Bijan Sheibani directs the performance with a relentless pace, the stage consumed by bursts of movement, and lighting decisions informed by the needs of the narrative and shifting perspectives. The set is minimal and unfussy, with maximum effect: props are piled to the side or suspended in mid-air, willing to be utilised (we’re located in both scrap and the urban landscape, after all). The story’s pivotal moment, when Lydia creates the spider, is also its most technical: the black backdrop fractures into giant pieces and shadows are projected to suggest the enormity of the creature beyond. It’s inventive, simple, effective.

Seduced by Meredith’s musical style and by Ridley’s power with words, the audience, it seems, became ever rapt in the opera, entrapped by the threads of the web of the spider that existed – or not – in Bethnal Green. It was seamless, seemingly effortless, good stuff.

By hosting workshops and school auditions, Aldeburgh Music has made the process of theatre relevant to the local community. After an impressive premiere at Snape, the hope is that Tarantula in Petrol Blue will tour and repeat its success elsewhere.

Words > Stephen Durrant. Photographer, filmmaker, nut.