Julietta at ENO

English National Opera are well known for their willingness to try something new, but inevitably that approach is a risky one and sometimes does not come off. In the case of Richard Jones' new production of Martinů's Julietta, however, the investment has paid off handsomely, rewarded with a production that is as vivid in musical colour as it is in striking imagery on stage.

Julietta is in three acts, and the decision to have an interval between each seems odd at first but is shown to be correct as the storyline develops. The story is not centred around the female character who gives the opera its name – rather it is the Parisian Michel, played and sung here by Peter Hoare. Michel experiences a number of dream sequences that lead to him pursuing the girl of his, er, dreams, Julietta, played by Julia Sporsén, who I interviewed for Classical Source here.

Michel is centre stage for almost all of the action, though there are a number of characters who pop up time and again in his dreams in surreal ways – much like they might for you and me. There is a tuxedoed horn player, a beggar, a young sailor and an accordion player, who directly influences the imaginative choice of set. After a while the action feels like it is going around in circles. Martinů's own libretto is initially slow of pace, with a large amount of scene setting in the village of the first act before things start to get going.

The plot was helped immeasurably in this respect by Ricardo Pardo's breathtaking sets and Matthew Richardson’s perceptive lighting. The forest scenes of the second act are beautifully done, silvery lights complementing the detailed characterisation of Martinů's music; while the stage is dwarfed by the bellows of the giant accordion for act one, then the keyboard for act three. This is the most concentrated of the three, set mostly in the 'Bureau Of Dreams' – not a progressive rock album title but rather a fictitious place where dreams are bought and sold, the contents of each to an extent pre-determined by such available props as Buffalo Bill and . As I said, it is a touch surreal!

Another key element to raise this production to the heights is Martinů's music, and more particularly the way in which Ed Gardner and his excellent orchestra bring every fibre of it to life. This is not necessarily music where you would sing the tune on the way home, but there are so many pieces of subtle invention, either in texture, melody or in harmonies on which the composer alights, that the ear and eye are drawn this way and that, able to admire fragments or extended passages here and there.

The singing is vibrant too, with Hoare outstanding as Michel, who by the end is considerably put-upon in his attempts to see and talk with Julietta. The final scene takes place in front of the curtain, on which the images of seven sleeping people spell out J-U-L-I-E-T-T, with Michel eventually taking the 'A' – until once again he wakes and is transported towards the land of dreams.

Was it all one big dream? Will he eventually wake up? We are not fully clear. But Martinů cleverly plants the question to make his audience question the possibility of life being but a dream, as the song says. His music, often dreamlike itself in the symphonies and orchestral works, is used to its full potential here, and every shimmering chord and whirring set of sound effects serves its purpose.

Put simply, Julietta is that rare thing, an opera that gains in dramatic and expressive weight as it progresses, and whose spell is cast for long after it finishes. Do catch it if you can.