For those whose operatic taste is strictly hummable tunes and a clear story, look away now. Song from the Uproar is by contemporary American composer Missy Mazzoli, so expect jangly rhythms, electronic elements and a loose, abstract tale.

Lyric Opera’s sparse Australian premiere production adds to the challenge of grasping this elusive opera, but overall it’s an accomplished interpretation including by Olivia Federow-Yemm in the only principal role.

Olivia Federow-Yemm in Lyric Opera’s Songs from the Uproar. Photo © Jodie Hutchinson

Mazzoli is probably best known for her second opera, Breaking the Waves, which was presented by Opera Australia last year. Her first, Song from the Uproar: The Lives and Deaths of Isabelle Eberhardt, premiered in New York in 2012, and was inspired by the writings of an extraordinary Swiss woman.

Eberhardt’s unconventional life reached scandalous levels when she moved to Algeria in 1897 after the death of her immediate family. She worked as a journalist, dressed as a man, converted to Islam and married an Algerian before dying in a flash flood aged 27.

Quoting Eberhardt’s journals, the libretto by Mazzoli and Royce Vavrek is mostly translated into English but sometimes retains the original French. Poetic and elusive, it presents episodes associated with life, including romantic and spiritual awakenings, and with death, such as a family funeral, Eberhardt’s suicide attempts and actual passing.

Lyric Opera’s Songs from the Uproar. Photo © Jodie Hutchinson

Federow-Yemm interprets Eberhardt in what is essentially a semi-staged production directed by Beng Oh. He doesn’t try to diminish fortyfivedownstairs’s large, open performance space, so the mezzo is almost always front and centre during the 75-minute show.

Federow-Yemm sings with clarity and expressiveness, conveying the fire, wonder and melancholy of her character. She is supported by other capable young singers: Lisette Bolton, Olive Cullen, Timothy Daly, Daniel Felton and Leah Phillips.

This chorus enhances the opera’s elusive, even mystical quality, including with strange, haunting vocalisations. They are rowdy soldiers, playful children and the waters that sweep Eberhardt away – a poignant, choreographed motif.

At times pre-recorded singing, somewhat garbled and crackling like a voice from the past, merges with the live performance. It’s part of the electronic aspect of Mazzoli’s score, which is written for a quintet including electric guitar.

Olivia Federow-Yemm in Lyric Opera’s Songs from the Uproar. Photo © Jodie Hutchinson

Conducted by Lyric’s Artistic Director, Patrick Burns, the band deftly switch between myriad time signatures; between passages that are ethereal, urgent or even dissonant (some sour double bass is surely intentional).

The music’s moods are enhanced by Shane Grant’s lighting, especially with brief colour washes or moments of shadowy gloom. The libretto is projected on the space’s whitewashed brick wall, not like traditional surtitles but in tune with the opera’s abstract approach.

The words descend, bounce, fall, appear on the diagonal, shrink and grow, sometimes in ways awkwardly reminiscent of a bad 1990s PowerPoint (the increasing font size of “Who? Who? WHO?” made me squirm). At other times there’s effective textual artistry, such as when words plucked from the libretto slowly build up to form “GOD”.

Set and Costume Designer Adrienne Chisholm evidently has a small brief or budget or both. Federow-Yemm walks on carrying several bags, from which occasional objects and items of clothing are drawn. In this production Eberhardt is perhaps more a solitary homeless woman than a romantic figure, though her daring spirit is never in doubt.

The likely audience for Song from the Uproar is limited, so it takes plenty of daring from a small, independent company like Lyric Opera to mount it. Congratulations to them for helping keep opera alive with a fresh work of note.

Song from the Uproar is at fortyfivedownstairs, Melbourne, until 25 October.