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Hence we have a return of Christopher Wheeldon’s Polyphonia, followed by only the second new work for the main stage this season, Matjash Mrozewski’s Castle Nowhere. Both of these are works for eight dancers apiece with little else on a bare stage. MacMillan’s Requiem concludes proceedings, but though this features the full company in a lush musical setting (and on strong form) it is an inevitably down beat and yet somehow not cathartic ending to the evening,

Matjash Mrozewski is Canadian, and has produced ballets both there and in Australia. He made a new work for the Royal in the Linbury as part of the Inspired by Diaghilev programme a couple of seasons back. That that resulted in his invitation to produce something for the main stage, that huge, unforgiving expanse. Unfortunately, his work does not seem to have expanded in scale to meet the challenge and the piece looked as if it might possibly have been more appealing in an more intimate setting.

The contrast with Polyphonia is particularly noticeable. Wheeldon also uses only eight dancers (and has uses a decidedly austere accompaniment in terms of Ligeti piano pieces). But his work is on a large scale: the dance and the dancers claim all the space, and Wheeldon clearly has a strongly organised and coherently worked out scheme. It was a fine performance from the cast, very much the same on this occasion as in the last run here, with the exception of Martin Harvey taking over Jonathan Cope’s partnering duties with Leanne Benjamin. Later casts will feature Ansanelli, the Royal’s recent recruit, returning to the role she created when the work was originally made for NCYB.

You feel very clear that Wheeldon knew exactly what he was aiming for in creating Polyphonia. Mrozewski’s intentions for Castle Nowhere are much less easy to discern. The costumes for the eight dancers suggest the 19th century – ball gowns with bustles for the women and formal suits for the men. The designs consist of various pieces of 19th century furniture and objects hanging from he ceiling at odd angles. The introductory quote in the programme is from a novel about Henry James, indicating neediness and repressed emotions.

So what music accompanies this hint of ennui in Victorian sitting rooms ? Arvo Pärt would not exactly seem an obvious choice in terms of period (resolutely 20th century) or anything else, including danceablity. I don’t think anyone came away humming a tune. (I don’t mean to be disrespectful about the composer but this isn’t the right context to hear him.) The dance did not appear to be particularly attuned to the music at many points – storms in the orchestra not accompanied by much on stage.
 

The central couple (Zenaida Yanowsky and Ed Watson) entangle in a series of inconclusive pas de deux. There is no attempt at characterisation or narrative for the other three couples, and even a day later it is hard to recall anything specific about the steps Mrozewski gives them. There is a very strong and deeply felt performance by Yanowsky who can invest the most ordinary steps with nuances of desire and regret. But when she is offstage repetition and blankness sets in fast.

As one of the flagship new commissions of the season this particular work was always going to be the subject of stern scrutiny. It’s a pity it turned out to be so slight and small scale – a triple bill like this needed a much more substantial middle course. I hope the disappointment doesn’t prevent them commissioning other new work in future. The company needs it.

The evening’s only light moment came when flowers were brought out at the end and delivered – to Belinda Hatley. She looked embarrassed and promptly deposited them at Yanowsky’s feet. A curtain call later, a further bouquet appeared and the hapless individual headed to Yanowsky , who with an imperial gesture redirected them to Hatley.

MacMillan’s Requiem was very strongly cast with Bussell, Acosta and Benjamin repeating their roles from the previous run. Rupert Pennefather replaced David Makhateli in partnering Leanne Benjamin. It’s a perilous task, particularly in the final moments as he carries her off while she stands on his shoulder. I had my fingers crossed and was willing the curtain to come down. Pennefather undoubtedly has talent but still has plenty of work to do.

Requiem brings large forces of the company on stage to the sounds of Fauré’s Requiem. The scale of this work compared to the rest of the evening is such a contrast that wished I could have moved much further back to get a better grasp of the big picture, having spent the previous work peering forward into the gloom. Requiem has some lovely moments, particularly the childlike Pie Jesu for Benjamin, but it doesn’t quite have quite the cathartic effect that MacMillan aims for in Gloria. Perhaps something altogether frothy and light-hearted wouldn’t have come amiss here instead.