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Let’s start with Nikolai Tsiskaridze, or should I call him Kolya since he’s smiled down at me from the stage so much, I feel I know him well. The role of Solor in ‘La Bayadère’ fits him like a glove; the noblest of warriors, risking a royal life of privilege and order for the love of a temple dancer. Having recovered from the devastating knee injury that threatened to end his career, Tsiskaridze once again dominates the stage with a commanding presence that can only come with maturity. He knows exactly how to pace through the big variations; the elevation and strength may not be the same as before the horrific damage to his body, but the timing and that indefinable ballon are still consummate skills and he understands just how to play an audience to maximum effect. He possesses the most pliable spine, giving a flexibility that bends gender, sculpting shapes with the arc of his back that defy belief. This virtuoso was no longer complete when the Bolshoi performed in London a year ago, but he’s now back in the finest form.

I can’t imagine two better dancers as the rivals for Solor’s love: the heart-rending, skeletal vulnerability of Svetlana Zakharova’s Nikiya (the bayadère, or temple dancer) versus the exotic, imperious certainty of Maria Alexandrova’s Gamzatti (the Rajah’s daughter and Solor’s betrothed). Their dancing always deceives by never suggesting effort, with jetés that soar towards the audience like golden arrows from Solor’s bow; pirouettes whirled by an unseen cyclone; spectacular extensions with supremely arched feet; and whipped turns that should only be propelled by elastic. I’ve felt Zakharova to be too much the ice-maiden in previous tours but not here; there is drama, fire and passion in abundance.

And I haven’t even got to the very best, yet. This was vested in the most gorgeous Kingdom of the Shades imaginable: thirty-two identical ballerinas, moving in absolute harmony, each stepping slowly forward into arabesque after arabesque, in a kaleidoscope that seems to continue forever. Truly, this is an enchanted place, where no imperfection can possibly exist. Whilst the real stage machinery often played hard to get right, the ethereal conveyor belt on which these sylphs rolled out their identical, repeated movements worked like clockwork for its full six minutes. There was nothing mechanical about the majestic sweep of the shades but the most sophisticated microchip could not have bettered their disciplined flow.
 

I can’t help feeling that the Grigorovich Bayadère is looking just a little tired, especially when following on from the opulent extravagance of the Bolshoi’s new ‘Corsaire’. I know that there is much historical relevance in a set that closely assimilates the original 1877 designs, but this accuracy is hardly worth the billowing fabric to imitate flame or the unconvincing, anti-climactic destruction of the temple (not helped by the aforementioned failure in the special effects).

Nothing, however, should detract from the many awesome performances which have added up to a premium evening of ballet.