RB 'La Sylphide' reviews 'La Sylphide' reviews RB 'The Lesson' reviews Cojocaru in reviews Putrov in reviews recent RB reviews more Jeffery Taylor reviews

In a ridiculous scrabble for inclusivity years ago they dropped the season’s first night National Anthem and after an unexplained 10 minute delay the performance inexplicably began with The Lesson created for television by the Dane Fleming Flindt in 1963 to an irritating score by Georges Delerue. Skimming the surface of Ionesco’s three handed play and recreated by Danish born and trained Johan Kobborg, also dancing The Teacher, its schlock horror masquerading as slick flippancy sank without trace in a theatre resonating with decades of excellence.

Another new production followed, by yet another Dane, August Bournonville. His La Sylphide (1836) is the spark that ignited the genre of Romantic ballet and the cast was stellar with Ivan Putrov as James who abandons his fiancée on his wedding eve to elope with the eponymous and adorable woodland sylph, Alina Cojocaru. Between them with some truly glorious dancing, they salvaged some qualities of the original, rising above the Palladium style of Henrik Bloch’s commercially exaggerated costumes and Mark Jonathan’s sugar candy lighting. Cojocaru even manages to exit up a chimney with insouciant ease.

The ensemble of sylphs, led by Belinda Hatley, proves we have a corps de ballet of global worth, but redemption was left to Putrov and Cojocaru. Putrov’s breathtaking technique is one of the most intelligently developed around today, but his priceless gift is the total lack of artifice in his presentation. What you see comes from his heart. Cojocaru’s unearthly talent for movement hungrily explores the meaning of the steps she dances and makes us gasp with wonder again and again.

In spite of itself, the Royal Ballet just can’t help being good.