The last great English composer before Benjamin Britten was Henry Purcell, he lived at the end of the 17th century and was particularly famous for his operas and church music. Purcell had a genius for hearing the rhythm of the English language and set it brilliantly to music. ‘Peter Grimes’ was the first great English opera since 'Dido and Aeneas' was written by Purcell (1689). In 1945 nobody went to a modern opera expecting to enjoy themselves yet, from the first night when the audience sat transfixed in their seats, to the last, when they wanted to go on clapping all night, Britten’s opera was a huge popular success. Even the bus conductors used to shout out “Next stop, ‘Peter Grimes’! The Murdering Fisherman!” as they passed Sadler’s Wells Theatre.

It put English opera back on the map and confirmed Benjamin Britten’s position as Top British Composer, a position he thoroughly deserved.

From ‘Peter Grimes’ onwards Benjamin Britten turned out a succession of operas, choral works, church music, songs, music for professionals, amateurs and children. Much of his music was vocal and everybody noticed how beautifully he set the rhythms of the English language to music – just like Henry Purcell; English music had come full circle.

While ‘Peter Grimes’ was in rehearsal the cast complained that the opera was hideous – difficult, unsingable, horrible modern music. But it seems the original cast were in a collective bad mood, because the first audiences didn’t find it difficult at all. They loved the magnificent sea interludes and the towering performance of Peter Pears in the title role.

What probably helped them was the fact that ‘Peter Grimes’ is formally a very conventional opera. The music is modern of course but, as you get used to it, you find the show falls naturally into recitative, aria, duet and ensemble (some of the main building blocks of opera). Some of the effects of 18th and 19th century opera reappear in the score. The famous off-stage religious choruses, in 'Il Trovatore' or 'The Magic Flute' for example, are reproduced in ‘Peter Grimes’ - the only difference being that, instead of hearing monks or mysterious Egyptians, we hear Anglicans in Church chanting Morning Prayer.

Each act in Grimes culminates in a great aria for the hero, a pattern that Handel himself would have recognised and, most operatic of all, we have a Mad Scene at the end of the opera.

In many ways 'Peter Grimes' is a thoroughly traditional opera. It has a chorus of villagers, a violent hero, a patient heroine, a drinking scene, a dancing scene, an offstage religious chorus, and a mad scene. The locations are traditional as well: a fishing village, a pub and a lonely hut. And that's the problem. 'Peter Grimes' isn't a cute opera and the designer has to make sure it doesn't end up looking too picturesque. And there are more serious problems. The scene at Peter’s hut, for example, can be very difficult; you have to be inside and outside the hut at the same time, it has to be perched on a cliff, and the Apprentice’s fall has to believable, if not realistic. Then there’s the sea. What do you do? Paint some seascapes on the back drop (large cloth positioned at the back of the stage)? Use a film projection? Cut the sea altogether and bring the curtain down during the Sea Interludes?

Every production of 'Peter Grimes' comes up with a different solution to these problems. The original production was very low tech. Sadler’s Wells Opera wasn't rich and they asked the original designer, Kenneth Green, to see what he could do with pots of paint, canvas and plywood. His 'Peter Grimes' was all run-down houses and swirling clouds, painted on the flat surfaces of traditional scenery. The lighting designer added bad weather and a sort of atmospheric gloom; he was particularly good at making Grimes emerge from shadow, and silhouetting him against the sky when he did something violent.

'Peter Grimes' was so successful that it was added to the operatic repertory almost at once. The repertory (most people just call it ‘the rep’) is the list of operas that are played all over the world. Since 1945 'Peter Grimes' has been translated into foreign languages and played in opera houses everywhere but designers and directors still have to work out a solution to the same basic challenge: what to do with the scenery and costumes.

Most modern productions don’t fill up the stage with cottages. They keep the stage flat and bare, perhaps remembering how flat Suffolk is (the opera’s set on the Suffolk coast). There may be a huge screen (called a cyclorama) at the back, to represent the enormous sky you get at the seaside. Sometimes they have a capstan downstage, so Ned Keene and Captain Balstrode can winch in Grimes’ boat, and often there are a couple of fishing boats on the side of the stage: you have to imagine the rest. But however bare the stage the lighting (LX) and the effects (FX) people are usually hard at work. The sea interludes are usually played to lighting changes fading and cross fading over the cyclorama, and the last act invariably has Grimes stumbling through atmospheric lighting and clouds of smoke or dry ice.

People are normally dressed in fishermen’s’ jerseys and boots, with a naval jacket for Balstrode and long skirts for the women. The Sunday morning sequence usually has the villagers in their best clothes as they go to church. The 1970s production at the Royal Opera House had the Anglicans in awkward black trousers and jackets that didn’t quite fit, while the Methodists (led by Bob Boles) went off to chapel in clean jerseys. The only trouble with a jersey is that it doesn’t always suit the singer playing Peter Grimes, particularly if he’s a bulky man. But nobody who saw Jon Vickers play Grimes in the 70s and 80s will forget how powerful he looked in his jumper. His barrel chest and huge arms seemed ready to bust through the wool, and he looked capable of pulling in a shoal of fish all by himself.

The previous Royal Opera House production also had a splendid cut away hut for Grimes. It was made of an upturned boat, and showed the cubby holes where Grimes and the apprentice had their beds. It was perched precariously on a sloped stage, you could just see the front door, and you guessed that the back door led straight to the cliff edge. A rope pulley was set up to lower the apprentice to the shore, and the difficulty was to get the boy to fall convincingly and scream at the right moment (especially as the ‘scream’ isn’t a scream at all, but the one moment when the boy sings). He has to hit a very precise top C and let the note descend. The Royal Opera House usually uses two boys, one to fall and one to scream – though they make sure the latter is carefully hidden away behind the boat.

'Peter Grimes' might be spare of scenery but it is good on props: a magistrate’s hammer for Swallow at the beginning, nets for the fishermen, boats, capstans, Mrs Sedley’s medicine bottle, pint pots in the pub, Ellen’s embroidery, the apprentice's jersey that Ellen and Balstrode find washed up on the beach. In English National Opera’s production all the fishermen sit down with battered enamel basins and piles of lemons, to scour their fingers (presumably to get rid of the fishy smell).