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The opening work is Electric Counterpoint, a new work by Christopher Wheeldon, something of a contrast to the works he’s made here before. I was beginning to have a template for the generic Wheeldon ballet stuck in my head (moody lighting, minimalist costume, “difficult” music, some energetic work for the corps, eventually the central pas de deux featuring some demanding partnering, then the big corps finish, often lit in silhouette – see Tryst, DGV etc) . This work dispelled it. Electric Counterpoint gives us four dancers (Watson, Lamb, Yanowsky, Underwood ) dancing first to Bach on piano overlaid with recordings of their own thoughts on dance, and later to a Steve Reich recording. All this is accompanied by giant video projections of their own selves, often multiplied or magnified to striking and sometimes almost hallucinatory effect.

The video projections come courtesy of Michael Nunn and William Trevitt, but this is not in their usual jaunty, jokey Ballet Boyz mode. Sarah Lamb faces her recorded self and dances in perfect unison. Yanowsky reaches out her hand to her ten foot high other self and leads her across the stage in a very effective picture. At other moments as the more propulsive Reich music takes over, the dancers are multiplied and Watson dances with six or more of his projected selves, and waves of dancers zoom across the backdrop.

Wheeldon seems to have a commendable desire to attract more people to the ballet, but I wonder if the dancers’ remarks he presents here will really assist that aim. I would have thought that some people might be put off by the rather downbeat ‘it’s all so difficult’ tone which comes dangerously close to both navel gazing and the curiously inconsequential. (But other people were clearly fascinated to hear them speak). Each of the dancers gets a slow controlled solo to their own thoughts. “I don’t like my hands” says Watson, and so Wheeldon gives him lots of extravagant twisting curling movements to make with them.
 

The solos section seemed slightly too long for me, but the work picked up momentum as the Reich music kicked in. The vocabulary at this point became more recognisably like Wheeldon at this point. Eric Underwood’s partnering of Yanowsky was nothing short of heroic. All of them worked their socks off. There was a big audience response at the close and a lot of subsequent discussion. I need another viewing to look harder at the dance as well as the effects.

Afternoon of a Faun is also about dancers but in a much less in your face way. A ballet studio, two dancers, boy meets girl., or rather both meet the mirror. Acosta and Lamb reprised their roles from last season. I commend her coolness and composure in a complete change of mood and style from the first piece.

This was followed by Tzigane, a Balanchine work which is a new acquisition for the Royal, staged here by the originator of the ballerina role, Suzanne Farrell. Marianella Nunez dances alone to Ravel’s opening violin solo before being joined by her partner Thiago Soares and a small and rather underused corps of eight. Oddly, Nunez did not seem to be in such a sunny mood as when she rehearsed it at the insight evening and her wonderful beaming smile that lights up the place was saved until the very end. No matter how fast or tricky the steps Nunez never looks hurried or troubled just happy to luxuriate in the music. Soares looked as if he was having a fabulous time – possibly the only dancer in this evening of examination of dance and dancers to look as if this dancing business was terrific fun.

The final item was a complete departure from the rest, a revival of Ashton’s exquisitely distilled narrative, A Month in the Country. We were back in a land of costumes, scenery and people whose already complex interior lives are about to be thrown in further disarray by a the arrival of a handsome tutor. Alexandra Ansanelli was the opening night Natalia Petrovna. It seemed a surprising choice to cast a dancer with such a strong background in Balanchine and comparatively little experience of the Ashton style in role which demands so much of his characteristic upper body movement. You could see she was trying hard to remember to bend at times but it wasn’t really there.
 

The other issue I had with her Natalia was that she simply seemed too young, too much of a young girl in her twenties in love and not a mature woman who is old enough to know better. There should have been much more of a contrast between her and the adolescent yearning of Vera (Iohna Loots, excellent, lovely feet). Natalia is a histrionic character but this one perhaps overly so: I always felt she was acting and though there were some beautiful moments I couldn’t get involved in her performance. Others no doubt will react differently.

Putrov as Beliaev unselfconsciously enjoyed the attentions of all those women, barely realising the havoc he causes. It’s a role that suits him well. Paul Kay was very fast and crisp as Kolia. Jonathan Howells was a kindly fusspot as Natalia’s husband, but I admit I rather missed the bluff heartiness of David Drew in this role.