A series of oddly disjointed scenes, "Preludes" will leave many in the audience scratching their heads as they grasp for the elusive thread of plot. And many may give up in sheer exasperation. The patient playgoer, though, may find much that is rewarding in Glore's challenging meditation on loss, licentiousness and music.

The action commences on an empty stage. As composer Ryan Poulson's intricate music swells, lights play in staccato counterpoint over the movable flats of Barbara Kallir's simple set.

It's only after this prolonged — some would say static — opener that the actors come on stage. The performers — Kristen Brennan, Jeremy Gabriel, Robert Seay and Michelle Silver — initially appear as members of the Morpheus String Quartet, who are rehearsing for an important concert.

Those scant facts, gleaned from the program notes, are about the most tangible you will find in this sprawling, nonlinear piece, which dabbles freely in far-ranging themes from the ordinary to the supernatural. Characters morph and blend, and reality bends, terrifyingly. For instance, a man, dressed in little girl's pajamas, struggles to convince his wife that he is not actually their dead daughter. But perhaps, after all, he is.

Glore, associate artistic director at South Coast Repertory, obviously intends his scenes to be fugues in a larger orchestral drama. However, director Edgar Landa infuses the proceedings with a highly stylized quality that doesn't always jibe with the material's musical lushness. Landis' cerebral approach keeps the performers — and the audience — at an emotional distance, whereas a passionate naturalism could have made the play more richly accessible.