IF Alice in Wonderland went to a dinner party with the Brothers Grimm and Salvador Dali, Aurelia's Oratorio may very well be the outcome.

In watching it, you are taken to another world, where a woman dissolves in an hourglass, clothes dance on their own and the curtains come to life.

In turns dreamlike and nightmarish, it is always enchanting, imaginative and utterly absorbing.

The scenes are fast, seamless and have no obvious narrative, which only adds to the feeling that it is a particularly wonderful dream.

Its star, actress and illusionist Aurelia Thierree, a grand-daughter of Charlie Chaplin, appears in dozens of different guises; limbs sprouting from a chest of drawers; rocking in a cradle of red silk as the scenery falls down; being eaten by a skeleton.

A particularly beautiful scene shows her sleeping behind a curtain of falling lace snow as a giant creature snatches her. Menacing, primeval bass plays in the background.

In another, Aurelia's apparently dismembered head bobs in a Punch and Judy stall, for the entertainment of the puppet audience.

Trying to understand the Aurelia's Oratorio is pointless, better just to be swept up in the sheer visual wonderment of it. Nione Meakin