Petit Triple Bill: L’Arlésienne, Le jeune homme et la mort, Carmen, English National Ballet, ENB at the London Coliseum, July 2011

Roland Petit died less than two weeks ago, and the remarkable timing of this triple bill made it a wonderful tribute to his choreography. That I happened to go on July 22, rather than the first night was entirely fortuitous, and we were rewarded by an incredible performance of Le jeune homme brilliantly danced by guest artist Ivan Vasiliev, shown in the photo below and making his debut with the company.

Ivan Vasiliev in Jeune Homme, photo by Laurent Liotardo

I’ll come back to this wholly unexpected treat later, but things started more gently with L’Arlésienne, based on a short story and play by Alphonse Daudet. It expresses the anguish and eventual suicide of a young man who cannot forget a woman in Arles. Despite having a lovely fiancée and a group of peasant friends who try to support him, he descends into madness and ends up throwing himself out of a window. The choreography is intriguing, and reminiscent of that wonderful Ballets Russes work Les Noces, showing a wedding ceremony in a tightly knit peasant society. The music for L’Arlésienne was written by Bizet for the original play, and will be familiar from two orchestral suites that are often played. The ensemble dancing was excellent, and Erina Takehashi gave a lovely portrayal of the girl, so full of life. By contrast the young man is heading for death, and although Esteban Berlanga danced it with huge energy, warming to the agony as the ballet progressed, his emotion seemed unconvincing.

Esteban Berlanga in L'Arlésienne, photo by Simon Tomkinson

Carmen, the last item on the programme, is great fun, but to those who know Bizet’s opera the music is not always used for the same scenes in the ballet, and the characterisation is confusing. Don Jose with his cape looks more like a toreador than a simple soldier, and the Toreador himself, who comes in towards the end, is rather too camp. But Adela Ramirez as the Bandit girl was sexy, sassy and adorable, very well supported by Juan Rodriguez and Joshua McSherry-Gray as the bandits. Fabian Reimair was a stylish Don Jose, proudly assertive at the start yet showing a slow descent to desperation, and Begoña Cao was a fiercely cold Carmen. More warmth and emotion from the two main characters would have been welcome, but that had already come in bucketfuls from Ivan Vasiliev in the second item of the programme.

Begoña Cao and Fabian Reimair in Carmen, photo by Patrick Baldwin

Vasiliev was quite extraordinary, and apparently wanted to dance  Jeune Homme as a tribute to Roland Petit’s widow Zizi Jeanmaire. He gave it everything: enormous feeling, terrifying acrobatics, and hugely suppressed desire and emotion. His nemesis was Jia Zhang as the girl — the femme fatale who takes him to his death. She was superbly controlled and manipulative, and immensely desirable in her yellow dress. As he grasped her wrist he gave her a look of quiet desperation, and the two of them together created a glorious effect. In the final minute and a half the room vanishes and we see rooftops. It’s a fabulous set, costing an arm and a leg, but worth every penny, and this was a truly memorable occasion. Wonderful conducting by Benjamin Pope, particularly of the Bach music for Jeune Homme.

We don’t see enough of Roland Petit’s work in this country so go to this if you have the chance. Performances continue until July 24 — for details click here.

Ballo della Regina/ Live Fire Exercise/ DGV:Danse à Grande Vitesse, Royal Ballet, Covent Garden, May 2011

This triple bill made for a rather fragmented evening, because the first two pieces took only 36 minutes between them, while the two intervals lasted half an hour each.

DGV, Royal Ballet photo by Johan Persson

But it was all worth it because the final item, Christopher Wheeldon’s Danse à Grande Vitesse, was wonderfully invigorating and performed with great energy. A clear stage seems to roll up at the rear into twisted metal sheets, though these are not quite what they seem when light later bleeds through. Wonderful designs by Jean-Marc Puissant, and beautifully lit by Jennifer Tipton, with subtle changes of hue. The lighting yields a very clear view of the principal dancers on the front stage while giving a more subdued feel to those who appear behind, and this is all part of the choreographic effect. The dancing was marvellous, the four principal couples being Zenaida Yanowsky with Eric Underwood, Leanne Benjamin with Steven McRae, Melissa Hamilton with Gary Avis, and Sarah Lamb with Federico Bonelli. All eight danced superbly, as did the dancers in the corps, and I thought Hamilton and Avis particularly stood out, though that was partly the choreography. The music by Michael Nyman was conducted with energetic precision by Daniel Capps, who did a very fine job of uniting music and dance.

Capps also conducted the first item, Ballo Della Regina (The Queen’s Ball) giving it a suitably regal tone while maintaining just the right rhythm for dance. It’s a Balanchine work set to music that was cut from Verdi’s opera Don Carlo, and involves a sequence of variations, first with twelve girls in blue, then two principals in white, joined by four soloists in violet. The principals, Marianela Nuñez and Sergei Polunin, danced exquisitely, well supported by Yuhui Choe, Emma-Jane Maguire, Samantha Raine, and Akane Takada as the soloists, and the other twelve girls from the corps. Watching this was a real pleasure, and I look forward to the Company doing it again.

Federico Bonelli in Live Fire Exercise, photo by Bill Cooper

After this short ballet was over we had to wait nearly twice as long again for the second item, Wayne McGregor’s new work Live Fire Exercise. This looked rather intriguing at first, with small trucks and other heavy vehicles moving noiselessly in a window at the back of the stage. Then six silhouettes walk on and there is a silent explosion creating a plume of fire. The images by John Gerrard are wonderful and it was only after the fireball that I realised they were projected onto a screen in 3-D. The surroundings on the screen slowly rotate and the images move forward, becoming larger. It was fascinating, but seriously distracted from the dance going on at the same time. This distraction is a feature of some of McGregor’s other ballets, such as Infra and Limen, and I wonder why he does it. Perhaps he feels the choreography is not sufficiently interesting to fill out twenty minutes, but the images were, and I liked the plume of fire turning to smoke as night falls, and it all seemed to become more focused as the light showed up the dancers. Eventually dawn arrives, the vehicles leave, the silhouettes reappear and suddenly scatter. The music is the Corelli Fantasia by Michael Tippett, conducted by Barry Wordsworth. It’s lovely music, with a strong pastoral feel towards the end, though the whole thing never really came alive despite the terrific dancing.

The high standard of dancing in this triple bill is a great credit to the Company, and I admire the fact that they put on a new ballet and two others that are not standard repertory, but the intervals were enervating, and the hour and twenty minutes between the end of the first work and the start of the last — three quarters of it interval — would have been a good time for dinner.

Performances continue until May 25 — for more details click here.

Manon, with Benjamin and McRae, Royal Ballet, Covent Garden, April 2011

This work is one of the jewels in the Royal Ballet’s crown, and it hardly seems thirty-seven years since Kenneth Macmillan created it.

Leanne Benjamin in Act I, all photos by Bill Cooper

The performances had a wonderful freshness, and Leanne Benjamin brought Manon beautifully to life, showing her complexity: frivolity and teasing, anguish, fecklessness and the desire for pretty clothes, jewellery and a good time. She entered the party in Act II looking like a little girl surrounded by grown ups, seeming so pleased to see her brother before exhibiting a catching vivacity and zest for life as she engages the lecherous attentions of eight ‘gentlemen’. Steven McRae as her lover was a brilliant partner in their various pas-de-deux, and although Des Grieux is a bit of a cipher in this ballet, he performed with such perfect control and élan that his dancing took on an ethereal mix of nobility and youthful energy. This was McRae’s debut in the role, and from his first solo adagio in Act I to his remarkable spins in the scene where he knifes the gaoler, and his final attempts to console the dying Manon, he was superb.

Ricardo Cervera was wonderful as Manon’s brother Lescaut with his amoral attitudes, followed by later regrets and failed attempts to rescue his sister. His drunken performance in Act II was convincing without ever being over the top, and he was well aided by Laura Morera as his mistress, showing just the right amount of sexiness without in any way overshadowing Manon. Christopher Saunders portrayed a brutally powerful Monsieur G.M., and Gary Avis was riveting as the gaoler, from the moment he entered front stage left in Act III. This was altogether a terrific cast, and Martin Yates conducted with great sensitivity and emotional tension.

Leanne Benjamin in Act III

The music by Massenet contains nothing from his opera of the same name, and was originally compiled by Leighton Lucas, with collaboration by Hilda Gaunt. However, it seems that Martin Yates has re-orchestrated it, with fine effect. This was the first performance in the present run, and although Steven McRae was due to take the role of Des Grieux later, he replaced Edward Watson in today’s first night and I was delighted to witness such a marvellous debut in the role.

Performances with various casts continue until June 4 — for more details click here.

Cinderella, Birmingham Royal Ballet (BRB), London Coliseum, March 2011

Stage versions of Cinderella are many and varied. In Rossini’s opera there’s a pompous stepfather, in Massenet’s a stepmother, and in Ashton’s classic ballet a father. But all agree that Cinderella’s mother has died, and in David Bintley’s new production we see a glimpse of her funeral during the overture. It’s a brief but poignant scene, well supported by Prokofiev’s music, as is much else in Bintley’s new creation — seen here in London for the first time.

The magic starts, all photos by Bill Cooper

The two stepsisters are played here as obnoxiously juvenile girls, their teasing easily turning to pushing and shoving, but they can also be funny and I loved the incidents at the ball with the major domo’s staff of office. Above all, however, is the nasty stepmother, brilliantly portrayed by Marion Tait. Her ball dress was stunning, and when the prince brings the slipper to the house she follows her awful daughters in trying it on . . . before Cinderella herself comes forward.

Frog coachman, lizard footmen and mouse pages

The business with the slippers is very cleverly done, starting in the kitchen scene of Act I. Cinderella brings out a red box containing a portrait of her mother, and two pretty bejewelled slippers. The stepsisters suddenly enter and grab them, until more urgent matters claim their attention and Cinders can hide them again. Then when everyone’s gone, and she’s alone again, the fire suddenly springs to life and a barefooted old crone appears from nowhere, seated next to it. Cinderella gives her the precious slippers, catalyzing the magic. Bintley uses the slippers very skilfully and when Cinders returns from the ball she fishes out the red box again, hiding her remaining slipper. Once again the wretched sisters burst in again and grab it, but this time they are interrupted by the arrival of the prince himself, and Cinderella, unable to hide the box in its usual place, sits by the fire holding it. This seems an awkward moment for her while the sisters and stepmother try on the slipper, but then shyly and slowly she comes forward with the matching slipper. There is no rush, and this important moment is given full focus, creating a sense of wonder, well supported by Prokofiev’s glorious music.

Elisha Willis and Iain Mackay, Act III

The music is well used, and Bintley’s production manages to insert magic into moments that are sometimes missed, greatly helped by Koen Kessels’ wonderfully sympathetic conducting. Designs by John Macfarlane express the dichotomy between the cold looking kitchen and the mysterious world beyond for the seasons and the stars, glimpsed in the distant background of the ball scene. I loved the way the coach came together at the end of Act I, taking Cinderella off to the ball, and I loved the clock, as it came together in Act II, with its inner workings showing the rapid passing of time. Lighting by David Finn was excellent and I particularly liked the gradual visibility of the ball scene at the start of Act II.

The corps de ballet and soloists danced beautifully and Elisha Willis was a lovely Cinderella, showing refinement and strength in reserve, well deserving her very handsome prince in the form of Iain Mackay. Victoria Marr was a gentle fairy godmother, and the sisters were very amusingly portrayed by Gaylene Cummerfield and Carol-Anne Millar — I particularly liked Ms. Cummerfield’s clumsiness at the ball, sickling her foot most horribly at one point. And throughout it all, Marion Tait as the stepmother, holds the stage with a nod and glance.

This production by David Bintley has moments of magic, and when you go you should buy a programme to read Neil Philip’s interesting essay on the myth of Cinderella, including a version connected with the folk tale aspect of Shakespeare’s King Lear.

Performances at the London Coliseum continue until April 2 — for more information, and to book on-line, click here.

Preview — Cinderella, Birmingham Royal Ballet, London Coliseum, March 2011

Following its world premiere in Birmingham last November, and Christmas Day BBC Television debut, Birmingham Royal Ballet’s new production of Cinderella comes to London for the first time.

all photos by Bill Cooper

Choreography is by the wonderful David Bintley, with designs by John Macfarlane whose brilliant work on the Magic Flute was recently seen at the Royal Opera House. To top this, the lighting design is by David Finn, whose updated lighting for the Royal Ballet’s Giselle gives such a wonderful air of threatening magic to Act 2.

See my report after the first night on Tuesday, March 29.

Performances at the London Coliseum continue until April 2 — for more information, and to book on-line, click here.

Swan Lake, English National Ballet, ENB, London Coliseum, March 2011

With the recent success of the movie Black Swan, Tchaikovsky’s ballet Swan Lake is filling auditoriums, so tickets are getting scarce. In London at the moment both the Royal Ballet and English National Ballet have productions on stage, so there’s a choice. If you want to hear Tchaikovsky, then I’d go to the London Coliseum where Gavin Sutherland’s conducting drives the music forward in a dramatic way, and if you like designs and choreography, then I’d also go to the Coliseum to see the ENB’s production. Its choreography by Derek Deane, based on Ivanov and Petipa, works very well, as do the wonderful designs by Peter Farmer, most beautifully lit by Howard Harrison.

It’s remarkable how the sets and lighting create the sense of a mysterious outer world beyond the peasant domain in Act I, and the courtly world of Act III. In Acts II and IV we are of course in that outer world, lit by a full moon, and this production even gives us a glimpse of it during the overture by showing the evil Von Rothbart capturing a princess and turning her into a swan trapped by his spell.

all photos by Daria Klimentova

As for the dancing and movement on stage, the peasant pas-de-douze in Act I was charmingly performed, creating a sense of space and movement, and the pas-de-quatre, with Begoña Cao, James Forbat, Laurretta Summerscales and Max Westwell was terrific. The conducting gave a tremendous sense of rhythm and forward movement when Jane Haworth entered as Prince Siegfried’s mother, elegant and with a hugely engaging stage presence. The music fits Derek Deane’s choreography perfectly, and the lighting is magical for Arionel Vargas’s solo ‘soliloquy’ as the Prince, with a spot on him as the rest of the stage shades into irreality.

The four cygnets

In Act II, Fabian Reimair’s Von Rothbart moved dramatically, with great presence, and Elena Glurdjidze was a marvellous Swan Queen. Her pas-de-deux with Arionel Vargas, just before the cygnets enter, was beautifully done and she ended it with a palpable sense of regret that she is still trapped by Von Rothbart. His dramatic reappearance in Act III with his two scabrous, bald-headed followers, provided a much needed antidote to the tension between the Prince and his mother, which was very well portrayed.

Elena Glurdjidze as the black swan

When Elena Glurdjidze reappears as the black swan, Von Rothbart exudes elegance and seriousness, before taking a more active — perhaps too active — part in the amorous attraction of the prince towards his scheming daughter. The pas-de-deux between Prince and Black Swan had tremendous rhythmic energy, brilliantly supported by the orchestra under Gavin Sutherland. There was only a slight disconnect between dancer and conductor here, but the forceful playing of the orchestra is the way it should be done, and in Act IV as the Prince enters, the drums beat for all they are worth.

This was a hugely enjoyable performance, and finding tickets is well worth whatever effort it takes. Performances at the Coliseum continue only until March 26 — for more details click here.

Swan Lake, with Rojo and Acosta, Royal Ballet, Covent Garden, March 2011

Tamara Rojo is the quintessential Odette/Odile, showing a wonderful purity of movement as Odette, the Swan Queen in Acts II and IV, and a sinister, calculating quality as Odile, the daughter of the evil Von Rothbart in Act III. She dons the magical aura that allows her to take on the form of Odette, causing the prince to lose his heart to her, and then suddenly laughs in his face as soon as they have plighted their troth together. As he sees a vision of the real Odette in a mirror at the rear of the stage, her nasty laugh has a wonderfully sinister quality.

Acosta and Rojo in Act IV, photo by Johan Persson

Carlos Acosta as the prince was wonderful. He showed suitable ennui in Act I, and again in Act III with the six princesses, yet a readiness to hunt at night under a full moon in Act II. His anguish was palpable in Act IV, as he searches for his swan queen, and his emotion and his dive into the lake after her at the end was very well represented. And with Tamara Rojo his deft partnering allowed her to shine, which she most certainly did, holding an arabesque en pointe in Act III without the slightest fear on either part that she might not hold the balance.

The corps de ballet, photo by Dee Conway

I’ve commented earlier this month on the production, so I’ll leave that aside, except to say that I loved the set and the lighting in Act II. As to performance, the corps danced beautifully in the big ensemble pieces, and the pas-de-trois in Act I was very well performed by Akane Takada, Deirdre Chapman and Valentino Zucchetti. He was particularly good in his jumps and the conductor, Boris Gruzin took the music at just the right pace for his solos. What a shame he couldn’t do the same for the girls. The first two female solos in the pas-de-trois were markedly too slow, as was Rojo’s big Act II solo in Act II. These are ballerinas, not men, and they need the music at a pace that allows them to shine.

The character dances in Act III were all beautifully performed, and Yuhui Choe and Liam Scarlett were a delight in the Neapolitan dance. It was a treat to have Gary Avis as Von Rothbart, both in the white acts and particularly in Act III where he exuded a charmingly dark menace, well-supported by his dwarves. The interaction with his sinister daughter Odile showed skilful sorcery, and this was altogether a Swan Lake to treasure.

Before the performance started, Monica Mason, the Company’s artistic director, came on stage. It’s always an ominous moment when one wonders whether such an appearance is to announce injuries and replacements, but this was simply to tell us that the Royal Ballet had made their first visit to Japan in 1975, and they were dedicating this performance to the victims of the appalling recent earthquake in Japan. In fact they are putting on a special performance this Sunday, March 20 at 4 p.m. in the Linbury Theatre — details below.

As for the present run of Swan Lake, performances continue until April 8 — for more details, click here.

Concert performance in aid of the Japan Tsunami Appeal, with former Principal Guest Artist of The Royal Ballet Miyako Yoshida and friends, including: Yuhui Choe, Valeri Hristov, Hikaru Kobayashi, Ryoichi Hirano, Kenta Kura*, Akane Takada*, and students from the Royal Academy of Music (*tbc).

Tickets: 20 pounds. Running time: about one hour.

HOW TO BOOK: Advance tickets available from the Royal Opera House Box Office in person and by telephone until 4pm tomorrow (Saturday 19 March). Day tickets available at the door (cash only, donations welcomed!). Box Office telephone number: 020 7304 4000

Rhapsody, Sensorium, and Still Life at the Penguin Café, Royal Ballet, Covent Garden, March 2011

Why were there empty seats? This is a wonderful Triple Bill, and the Royal Ballet gave a glorious performance, yet on the Grand Tier four boxes in a row were empty. All paid for no doubt, but unused for some of the finest dancing the Company can produce.

Steven McRae in Rhapsody, photo by Tristram Kenton

The evening started with Rhapsody to Rachmaninov’s well-known Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, a delightful ballet created by Frederick Ashton in 1980. He made it for Baryshnikov in the lead role, and the quick darting steps for the leading man were brilliantly executed here by Steven McRae — his pirouettes with jumps were terrific. Yet McRae was not alone in his fabulous performance, but beautifully partnered by Alina Cojocaru, who danced with consummate musicality. Barry Wordsworth in the orchestra pit breathed life into Rachmaninov’s music, particularly during the big pas-de-deux, and the whole cast responded with warmth. This was a super performance, and although Ms. Cojocaru got only a relatively small bouquet in the curtain calls, she and McRae received enormous applause, and fully deserved it.

Benjamin and Whitehead in Sensorium, photo by Johan Persson

Following this was Sensorium, a ballet by Alastair Marriott, first performed in May 2009. The music is Debussy, from his Preludes, and the way it captures light and shade is beautifully assisted by Adam Wiltshire’s simple designs along with lighting by John Read showing subtle changes of intensity and colour. The principal couples were Marianela Nuñez with Rupert Pennefather, and Leanne Benjamin with Thomas Whitehead, and they and the other ten supporting dancers gave a wonderfully controlled performance. The choreography doesn’t flow and excite in the way that Rhapsody does, but as the middle item in the programme it was just right before leading in to the exciting romp of Penguin Café.

Its title may say Still Life, but this extraordinary work by David Bintley is nothing if not full of movement, eloquently expressing the life and energy of animals who are being left behind in a changing world. Emma Maguire was charming in the first movement as the Great Auk, a type of penguin that became extinct in the nineteenth century, and Zenaida Yanowsky was in sparkling form in the second movement as the Utah Longhorn Ram, excellently partnered by Gary Avis. These largish animals are followed by the Texan Kangaroo Rat, danced with wonderful fluidity by James Hay, and then come the dancing fleas, with Iohna Loots dancing brightly as the skunk flea in orange. After that comes the large Southern Cape Zebra with his bevy of charming ladies, and Edward Watson portrayed him with great stage presence.

Steven McRae as the Monkey, photo by Tristram Kenton

Towards the end, Steven McRae burst in as the Brazilian Woolly Monkey, dancing up a storm with fabulous jumps and fluid movements. It’s a glorious ballet to watch, and the music by Stephen Jeffes is an eclectic mix of Charleston, ballroom, jazz, folk and Latin American, superbly conducted by Paul Murphy. I particularly loved the huge bounce he gave to the movement with the fleas, but it was all enormous fun.

This is a Triple Bill not to be missed. The company is doing an extraordinary job in putting on these evenings with three ballets, and the idea that there are empty seats in well-appointed boxes is appalling. There are five more performances, finishing on March 28 — for more details click here.

Swan Lake, with Nuñez and Soares, Royal Ballet, Covent Garden, March 2011

Swan Lake shows Tchaikovsky at his very best, and although this is a perennial favourite, I find the production slightly unsatisfactory. More on that later, but the dancing was wonderful. Marianela Nuñez was lovely as the white swan, and seductively assured as the black swan in Act III. Thiago Soares was excellent as Prince Siegfried, showing suitable aloofness from Elizabeth McGorian as his mother, and fine technique in both his solos and in his pas-de-deux work with Nunez.

Marianela Nuñez as Odette

Most of the solo roles were also brilliantly performed. Akane Takada, Hikaru Kobayashi and Ludovic Ondiviela danced with great verve in the pas-de-trois of Act I — both girls danced beautifully, and Ondiviela was outstanding — and Iohna Loots, Emma Maguire, Romany Pajdak and Sabina Westcombe as the cygnets in Act II were right on the music and wonderfully in sync with one another. Emma Maguire and James Hay were terrific in the Neapolitan Dance of Act III, and all the character dances were extremely well performed. The only solo role I found disappointing was Christopher Saunders as Von Rothbart. He failed to exhibit a spirit of evil possessiveness in the white acts, and lacked the necessary menace in Act III, seeming more like an avuncular figure — albeit with a spooky hairstyle — taking his niece to a party.

The corps de ballet was superb, but the music was not quite as exciting as it ought to be. The first few bars were dull and it never really came alive. Boris Gruzin does a reliable job with the orchestra, but he took the solos for Nuñez rather too slowly, and some of the music for the corps sounded a bit rumpty-tum. Certainly there were stronger moments too, but on balance there was a lack of tension.

Nuñez and Soares in Act III

As for the production itself, improvements could very easily be made by getting rid of the supers in Act III. Their movements are entirely at odds with those for the rest of the company, and when the man in pink holds his white-gloved palms out, as if he might start directing traffic, he looks like something from another planet. They are at best an irrelevance, and I find them an annoying distraction. In Act III I’d be relieved to see some of the side sets eliminated because they take away from the space for dancing, and in Act IV I’d be glad to see some of Ashton’s choreography put back in again.

But, as I say, the dancing was superb, and the auditorium was full to the gills — performances of this run continue until April 8 — for more details click here, and for my review of another performance, with Rojo and Acosta, click here.

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Royal Ballet, Covent Garden, February 2011

When the performers came on at the end, even the trees took a bow. It was that sort of evening, when the whole cast did a superb job, and the audience loved them all. And why not indeed? This was the world premiere of a brand new full-length ballet choreographed by Christopher Wheeldon to specially commissioned music by Joby Talbot, and the audience roared their approval.

Lauren Cuthbertson as Alice and Sergei Polunin as Jack, photos by Johan Persson

Lewis Carroll’s original story is a wonderfully unusual and creative tale, hard to put on stage as a ballet because it’s impossible to reproduce Carroll’s clever word play. But this ballet matched its creativity, and the music matched the choreography. The scenario by Nicholas Wright was very effective, the lighting design by Natasha Katz was magical, and the video projections were glorious. I loved the fluttering leaves towards the end, and the tumble down the rabbit hole early in Act I gave me a sudden sense of vertigo.

Alice trapped by being too large

But what of the dancing? Lauren Cuthbertson was a remarkable Alice — how on earth did she keep going in Act I when she’s on stage virtually all the time? Amazing! Sergei Polunin was a star as her beloved Jack, the gardener’s son, and as his alter ego the Knave of Hearts. Steven McRae was fantastic as the Mad Hatter — his tap dancing was brilliant, and I loved his costume in pink and green. In fact the costumes and designs by Bob Crowley were a delight. I liked the nineteenth century outfits at the start, as if we were in A Month in the Country, followed by modern clothes at the end. That might seem odd, since Alice is simply waking from a dream and the costumes should be the same when she awakes, but somehow it worked. And in between — in Wonderland — the costumes were immensely colourful.

Zenaida Yanowsky as the Queen of Hearts

So many vignettes from the original story were included, one cannot mention them all, but Simon Russell Beale as the Duchess in the ‘Pig and Pepper’ chapter was a revelation. I had no idea he was so musical. Eric Underwood was a wonderful caterpillar, and Edward Watson was very fine in his two roles, as Lewis Carroll and the White Rabbit. But if one had to pick one performer, apart from Lauren Cuthbertson, it was Zenaida Yanowsky as the Queen of Hearts. She was also the mother in the ‘prologue’, ejecting Alice’s beloved Jack from the garden party because she thought he stole a tart — then in Wonderland she becomes the imperious Queen of Hearts. Her spoof on the Rose Adagio from Sleeping Beauty was worth the whole show, and Yanowsky played it with superb comic timing.

In case it sounds as if I was overwhelmed with appreciation, here are a couple of quibbles. I thought Act I had moments where things didn’t seem to be going anywhere, and the choreography was dull, though Act II carried on at a frenetic pace. And while Joby Talbot’s music suited the choreography very well, with wonderful uses of the percussion section, and Barry Wordsworth got the orchestra to play it eloquently, I felt a lack of tension. But these are relatively minor quibbles, and if we compare this new full-length ballet to the new full-length opera Anna Nicole that premiered from the Royal Opera House less than two weeks ago, the ballet is far more creative.

See it during its first run if you can, though I’m sure it will be revived in a year or two’s time. This is a co-production with the National Ballet of Canada, whose first performance in Toronto is on June 4. Performances by the Royal Ballet continue until March 15 — for more details click here.