Beautiful, beguiling and incredibly evocative, Dmitry Krymov Lab’s Opus No 7 received its UK premiere on Saturday.

A fusion of theatre, dance and visual art, shot through with subtle and haunting musical touches, the two-act performance defies simple description. It veers from knockabout slapstick to visions of shocking, surrealistic horror, drawing upon two stories of human oppression.

Part One is titled Genealogy, exploring the tragedy of Soviet Jews through stark, yet strangely comic vignettes. The young cast are excellent throughout, their actions frequently inscrutable but imbued with a sense of naivety and encroaching dread.

It’s a labyrinth of icons and associations, innovative in its use of space, sound and an ever-evolving (if minimalistic) stage set.

Part Two proves equally compelling, Krymov’s collective transforming the life of Dmitry Shostakovich into a violent fever-dream.

Dominated by an enormous Mother Russia puppet, it takes in piano bumper cars, a jaunty shoot-out, aerial gymnastics and all manner of visual wizardry. Crucially, the colourful chaos is undercut by a nagging pathos, and a tonne of poignant social commentary.

In short, this is a unique and powerful work. Open-minded theatre-goers would do well to sample its darkly intoxicating charms.