Nogoat

Perhaps it's just KOH catering to our varied tastes when it comes to dancers? I can just hear him saying, in his best Groucho voice, “these are my principals. If you don’t like them, well, I have others”. 🤔

Francesco Gabriele Frola

On reflecting on last night's performance on the long journey home (during the Tube bit, not the driving-through-dense-fog bit!), I ended up wondering if Manon is the 3-act MacMillan ballet (or, indeed, that of any choreographer) that offers not only the greatest number of different characters, major and minor, but also the most flexibility for the dancers to provide their own interpretations as they move the complex story forward. (On reflecting on that reflection, Mayerling might disagree!) From the titular Manon all the way through to - as I think someone has previously mentioned - the poor servant who has to field the coat Mon GM throws at her, each interaction - some rehearsed, some seemingly ad-libbed as the stage-dynamics ebb and flow - provides a brushstroke to the masterpiece that is painted before our eyes and wordlessly works its way inside our hearts and souls. Admittedly I've only seen three performances in this run (two Osipova/Clarke and one Kaneko/Muntagirov), but I've seen many before these - on stage and on DVD/YouTube - but I think it would be difficult to find two with the same overall 'tone', even with the same casts. The above is a bit of a prelude/excuse (delete as appropriate) to the following observations about the two casts I've seen this run. Seeing only two makes that easy, but the risk is that these are seen as 'comparisons' in terms of which is 'better' - that is not the intent. As a ballet, I think Manon is so flexible it is difficult to 'break'; you might end up with a different overall 'shape' to the ballet, and different emphases as the narrative spins towards the tragic conclusion, but given the differing sensitivities and preferences of individual ballet lovers, and their tendency (when casting is available!) to self-select casts that are likely to meet those expectations, then it is little wonder that performances are so enthusiastically attended and received. Manon: This will be difficult, even given the above 'disclaimer', as feelings run deep (and who'd want it any other way? After all, ballet, like any other art form, is about how you feel), so let's deal with it first... On the technique-acting spectrum, Fumi sits more towards the technique end than Osipova. I loved Fumi's mastery of technique last night - it was beautiful to behold - but this meant there was less emphasis on acting while dancing (note it's a matter of degree here, not absence). Having said that, when she wasn't dancing I thought she did a fabulous job of propelling the story; for example, her indecision and internal conflict between Mon GM's material wealth and Des Grieux's love was very clearly expressed in the brothel scene in Act 2. I also thought she really managed to project a sense of her own agency in the 'bracelet' scene at the end of Act 2. Also, her reaction during the Gaoler's assault in Act 3 was harrowing - those flailing arms told a story we didn't want to hear (though I was really hoping she'd then show her contempt for the Gaoler by spitting at his dead body). But, for me, the final Act 3 PDD would have had a greater impact if it had been 'uglier'. The point is, it all still worked for me and it would have pushed all the right buttons for many in the audience; conversely, Osipova pushed all the right buttons for me, but would not have done for everyone there. Des Grieux: DG may be the focus of the title of the original book, but in the ballet he seems to be the main character that (at least initially) is the simplest and, therefore, the most tightly constrained - a bookish, idealistic, fairly naïve young man. Perhaps it is the physical stature of Clarke that makes him more immediately noticeable as he moves around the stage in Act 1. And perhaps it is Muntagirov's experience that allows him to be somewhat more expressive in his solos (though Clarke was certainly much more expressive in his second outing). When Clarke, in his Act 2 attempt to woo back Manon, falls to the floor and looks up at her with all his exposed vulnerability, I distinctly remember thinking how much he reminded me of the pure, noble, innocent persona Muntagirov is so good at adopting; and when Muntagirov did exactly the same last night, I thought how much he looked like Clarke! Overall, I got the impression (from a very limited sample) that Clarke was the physically stronger of the two DGs, but that physicality - coupled with differences in stature between Clarke's Des Grieux and Campbell's Lescault - seemed to make the submission of the former by the latter at the end of Act 1 less convincing for some on the forum. Again, you pay your money and you make your choice - both 'work' and variety really is the spice of life. Lescault: Lescault may be the most complex character on stage, if measured by all the other characters he has to deal with and the number of sub-plots he instigates to drive the narrative forward, in their increasing recklessness and impact. His main interaction, dance-wise, is through his 'drunk' solo and duet with his mistress. My first Lescaut of this run was Campbell, and I wrote that I preferred Sambe's more exuberant performance from the previous run. However, the cinema broadcast contained an interview about Morera's role in guiding the MacMillan legacy, and I now think that Campbell was deliberately emphasising the more pathetic aspects of drunkenness mentioned. Last night, Sissens was more Sambe than Campbell. I went to the ROH prepared to be a bit disappointed, as reviews of Sissens in his first outing were a bit subdued. However, given that I know just how good Fumi and Muntagirov are, my astonishment at the bravura performance of Sissens yesterday almost allowed him to steal the show. In fact, in the brothel scene in Act 2 I did find myself looking at his antics at the expense of the main characters, as he seemed to remain drunk in everything he did. When Manon enters in that incredible gown adorned with 200 bows and greets him, Sissens' Lescaut managed to dislodge one and it fell on the stage. After she walked away he noticed it on the floor and, still acting the drunk, slowly tried to zero in on it to pick it up. With much effort he managed to do so, then he stared at it and tried to stick it on his lapel. A wonderful bit of ad-lib acting/stage cleaning! (I'm also sure that, at the start of the fight scene, Manon's black wrap became attached to Sissens as he ran around - resistentialism again?) Like Sambe in the last run, Sissens really attacked his solo with gusto - an extroverted, happy drunk. We all have different expectations and criteria, and the more reflective, maudlin approach of Campbell is neither 'better' nor 'worse' than that or Sissens or Sambe. A quick search on YouTube for 'Lescaut drunk solo' shows just how much room for interpretation there is in this iconic piece. Gaoler: If there can be a definitive Gaoler in Manon, then it has to be Gary Avis. Is there a more base character in ballet, MacMillan or otherwise, than this sexual predator? There are two things that Avis does that magnifies the sense of revulsion. The literal climax of his attack on Manon is completely uninhibited - it is pure self-gratification. Perhaps more disturbing, as it takes place in public, is how Avis' Gaoler treats Manon as he forces her across the front of the stage once she has disembarked. I haven't seen anyone else do it, but have seen Avis do it on several occasions; I'd rather not describe it - suffice it to say it's literally the modus operandi of the ex-president of the USA, as 'grabbed' on audio tape a number of years ago following an interview. There are no nuances to the Gaoler - the more the dancer can lower themselves into the cesspit of the worst of human behaviour, the more chillingly effective it becomes. And I still can't understand why the end of those first two scenes in Act 3 are met with applause; it just seems so inappropriate. There are so many other character interpretations to mention, but this is way too long already! PS: I'm sure the last set of jumps from Des Grieux and Lescault, as the one is chased across the stage by the other at the end of Act 1, were different last night (Muntagirov/Sissens) compared to the broadcast (Clarke/Campbell); is this right and, if so, is it something the dancers decide amongst themselves? PPS: Did I miss the 'achoo!' from the snuff-taking last night? I don't remember seeing/hearing it yesterday. PPPS: Not really anything to do with cast, but I thought the orchestra under Kessels last night was exceptional; none of the cautious, nervy playing I heard in the first two performances, particularly the streamed one - just a confident, full-bodied accompaniment to the tremendous on-stage dancing.

This type of 'corporate non-answer' is all too common nowadays, and it's really exasperating! In response to a perfectly reasonable request for an existing policy (fees for ticket returns) to change (waive said fees for ticket returns) to address an exceptional circumstance (lack of casting info at the time of ticket purchase), a bland restatement of the existing policy (waiving of fees is standard only for Patrons) is issued; there is no attempt to engage with the question itself and so provide an explanation as to why such a change cannot be accommodated. Grrr! It's especially frustrating given the recent celebration of the Friends' 60th anniversary, with its copious praise of the importance of such Friends to the RB. The disconnect between the supposed importance of Friends and the continued failure to provide casting information at the time of Friends' booking or mitigate its effect either means the RB really hasn't a clue about the motivation behind why people becoming Friends, or that they prioritise income over customer relations, in which case that very public, celebratory praise of Friends starts to sound a bit hollow. Either possibility is worrying. In case anyone from the RB management or customer relations team reads this forum (and I'd like to think they do!), here's my view of why people become Friends, and why casting information *at the time of booking* is so vital. There may well be folk who become Friends simply for the magazine, or access to a handful of rehearsals, or a 10% shop discount, or as a way to donate, or for the kudos - but I've yet to meet any. The overwhelming majority become Friends because it allows them to reduce uncertainty around (and thereby increase control over) the purchase of preferred seats or seats in preferred areas (in terms of view and/or price), and the higher up the Friends ladder you are, the greater the advantage conferred (and upfront cost, of course). Unfortunately, on the basis of their approach to the summer booking period, the RB management seems to be of the opinion that priority access to seat booking is sufficient, along with the pre-existing information about programmes and dates, to make successful bookings. I would argue that those three aspects might be necessary, but they aren't sufficient for a large number of Friends (to the extent that the opinions expressed on the BCF reflect Friends in general). In exchange for handing over a large wodge of cash each year I would expect, when priority booking opens, to be able to make informed decisions about ticket purchases - for that, I need to know the programme, date, and ticket availability but, importantly, I also need to know the cast. Three out of four is not sufficient. The RB management seems unable or unwilling to acknowledge the importance of casts to, I would argue, the majority of Friends (at least, those on BCF - a cursory glance at the forum shows how members, including myself, tend to favour seeing particular dancers). Because of that, the upcoming booking (on the 28th for me) will be essentially a lottery, and one that will cost £4 for each failed gamble on trying to see the cast(s) I'm interested in. That might be good for the RB's cashflow (the cynic in me is mentally calculating the effective price-hike of returning half the tickets for repurchase on other dates, and - if in desperation I buy many more tickets than I need - the short-term effect on their book balances of 'returning' my excess expenditure as vouchers to be spent next year) but it undermines the rationale to becoming a Friend, especially if casting is not made available until after general booking opens. For those travelling to London by public transport and/or having to book hotels, the additional costs incurred by missing out on early-bird offers may also be significant. The RB needs to recognise that we all have favourite composers, choreographers *and* dancers, and many of us need to know all three to make informed purchases. Otherwise it starts to resemble the ballet equivalent of Henry Ford's 'you can have any colour as long as it's black'. If the RB fail to recognise and address the issue of providing timely information on casting, then there are likely to be subtle and damaging effects on the relationship between Friends and the RB; folk are already starting to question the value of being a Friend, and who knows if those relationship concerns might end up affecting other ways of giving? I appreciate that casting is the most difficult aspect for the RB management to control and schedule (programmes, dates and seating are trivial in comparison, mainly due to long lead-ins for the first two and real-time booking for the last), and maybe casting is becoming more difficult every cycle, but accepting the importance of casting to a potentially large segment of the paying public would be a start - but on its own it is not enough. Rather than recognising the problem but dumping the consequences onto that Friends and the paying public, the RB management should ensure that scheduling is not being slowed down by insufficient resources or inappropriate internal processes (eg if marketing/accounting considerations take precedence over casting activities/customer relations in the setting of booking dates). If resources are sufficient, then at a minimum, RB management should put in place measures to mitigate adverse effects (ie waive the admin fee for returned tickets). The ideal solution, of course, would be to withhold ticket sales until casting is known (not necessarily full casting across the run; even partial casting or a staged release as performances are cast would be better than nothing - though the response to @Linnzi5's question suggests the RB can't even see the merits of something that obvious. Perhaps they think it's difficult to implement? It isn't - just setting values in a database.); only releasing performances to book once casting is known would be a marvellous way to focus their minds! It's not that there isn't 'slack' in the system - the lead-in from first booking to performance for the summer season is around 3.5 months! I'm not privy to the internal workings of the RB, or how efficient they are, but that does seem very generous. Could they not put booking back by a month? Surely casting will be complete within a month from now?! I'm getting very twitchy about Wednesday (over and above the usual, unavoidable nervousness that comes with competitively spending large sums of money in a short space of time!) and that is not helped by the RB 'apologising' to @Linnzi5 for casting issues and then ploughing on as normal. How do we ensure this behaviour doesn't become the 'new normal'?

I thought I'd reproduce details of the running order from the rather splendid, ROH-quality, glossy programme from last night's Dance for Ukraine Gala at the Palladium, as it gives some sort of structure to my otherwise random thoughts, as well as providing information for those who were unable to make it. PROGRAMME PART 1 UKRAINIAN NATIONAL ANTHEM Music Mykhailo Verbytsky Mezzo-soprano Kseniia Nikolaieva Cello Urška Horvat Piano Sasha Grynyuk Members of The Royal Opera Chorus ROH Songs for Ukraine Chorus Conductor Keri-Lynn Wilson As it was for the first gala two years ago, this was the most moving part of the evening. Once again Kseniia Nikolaieva began the anthem on her own, with the rest of the chorus joining in as the curtain was raised to reveal them. Perhaps it was the rather poor attendance (the Grand Circle was maybe only one quarter full), or the smaller venue and absence of an orchestra, but, to me, that passionate indignity, that solidarity, that appeal to the injustice of it all, seemed to be rather diluted compared to the first gala at the Coli. Yes, we stood, yes, some sang, but it didn't have the same fervour. PRAYER FOR UKRAINE Music Valentin Silvestrov Mezzo-soprano Kseniia Nikolaieva Members of The Royal Opera Chorus ROH Songs for Ukraine Chorus Conductor Keri-Lynn Wilson In comparison to the rousing national anthem, this was a much more contemplative, reflective piece which seemed entirely apt given the events of the last two years. Perhaps the sung equivalent of the last danced piece, Gloria? FOREST SONG Olga Golytsia & Volodymyr Kutuzov Choreography Vakhtang Vronsky Music Mykhailo Skorulsky World Premiere Kyiv 1946 A fairly low-key start to the evening's dance - enjoyable enough, but I got the impression that the partnering could have been a little more polished on the male side (that's fine by me. I do not expect anything close to perfection in galas - it's more the opportunity to see a variety of dancers do a variety of pieces; the ballet equivalent of a tasting menu or a big box of assorted chocolates - yum!). I thought that lack of polish might not bode well for Kutuzov's Gopak in the second half - but how wrong I was! ROMEO & JULIETTE Lauren Cuthbertson & Matthew Ball Choreography Kenneth MacMillan Music Sergei Prokofiev World Premiere London, 9 February 1965 A predictably polished performance from Ball and Cuthbertson - they were almost on 'cruise control' - and I agree with @Blossom that the lack of live music really knocked its impact down a notch or two (despite what seemed like a very good sound system from listening to other pieces, this rendition seemed a bit 'lo-fi'). GISELLE Vsevolod Mayievsky & TBA* Choreography Marius Petipa after original Jean Coralli and Jules Perrot Music Adolfe Adan World Premiere Paris, 28 June 1841 * original cast is indisposed Included here for the sake of completeness. It didn't happen. METAMORPHOSIS Sangeun Lee & Gareth Haw Choreography David Dawson Music Philip Glass Choreographic Assistants Rebecca Gladstone & Raphael Coumes-Marquet Costume Design Eddie Grundy & David Dawson Light Design Bert Dalhuijsen Piano Olga Khoziainova Online World Premiere Amsterdam, 29 April 2021 I loved this piece, partly because I love the repetitive, minimalist music of Philip Glass - and this piece provided its visual, dance analogue. Glass is not to everyone's taste, of course, and it can seem too repetitive and protracted, but I'm happy to not fight its apparent refusal to resolve itself, and lose myself in the slowly changing sonic and visual landscapes it provides. Bliss. LE CORSAIRE Marianna Tsembenhoi, Luca Acri & Vladyslav Bosenko Choreography Marius Petipa after original Joseph Mazilier Music Adolphe Adam World Premiere Paris, 23 January 1856 This was a bit of a shock for me. It took a few performances, but Acri's stepsister in Cinderella (pink, wide-eyed, smeared lipstick) imprinted 'herself' so well that it took a while to adjust to this bared-torsoed, muscular, stubble-faced, 'alpha-male slave' (if there can be such a thing!) that bounded across the stage like a madcap Tigger. And, like Tigger, he seemed to be having a complete whale of a time! I don't think I've seen him do anything like that before, and I'd love to see more! Bravo! SUITE EN BLANC mazurka Denys Cherevychko Choreography Serge Lifar Music Edouard Lalo World Premiere Zurich, 19 June 1943 Perhaps it's more down to my ignorance than anything else, but coming straight after the well known dance/slave combo, this seemed a bit lacklustre. Denys seemed very earnest, though; perhaps I need to seek it out on YouTube and become more acquainted with it. PRELIWD William Bracewell Choreography Andrew McNicol Music Sergei Rachmaninoff Piano Sasha Grynyuk World Premiere The London Palladium, 18 February 2024 Like Acri, Bracewell was bare of torso and similarly, if not more, muscular. However, that musculature was used in this premiere more to express than propel. And this he did extremely well; he is such an assured and expressive dancer with bucket-loads of 'presence'. DYING SWAN Olga Smirnova Choreography Mikhail Fokine Music Camille Saint-Saëns Cello Urška Horvat Pino Sasha Grynyuk World Premiere Mariinsky Theatre, 22 December 1907 And talking of 'presence'... I was slightly underwhelmed by Smirnova's character in the Dutch Giselle that was broadcast to cinemas recently, but here, in the flesh, in another iconic role, she simply exuded 'ballet icon/diva'. Her technique was simply wonderful but, if I had to criticise anything, it would again be the 'acting' side of it. But that would be unfair of me, of course, as I believe technique/acting is a zero-sum game - it's just that I didn't think the balance was quite perfect. But that is a minor quibble - she's a bona fide superstar, and I got to see her live doing a bona fide classic! And, to top it off, the music was played live by an on-stage cellist and pianist (which helped underline the deficiencies of most of the recorded music elsewhere). TWO BY TWO Grace Jabbari & Ivan Putrov Choreography Russell Maliphant Music Andy Cowton Lighting Michael Hulls Relighting Andrew Ellis Costume & Set Design Russell Maliphant and Dana Fouras World premiere London, 1997 The stage is in darkness apart from two six-foot square puddles of light in which a male and a female dancer move - for most of the time in synchrony. The dance is contemporary and the music modern (it starts with sonar beeps and builds to include thumping bass beats; the sound system did this music proud, including some impressive stereo effects). YouTube can help you visualise it much better than I can, so I'll stop here! PROGRAMME PART 2 AFTER THE RAIN Marianela Nuñez & Lukas B. Brændsrød Choreography Christopher Wheeldon Music Arvo Pärt Piano Sasha Grynyuk Violin Benjamin Baker Costumes Holly Hynes Lighting Mark Stanley World Premiere New York, 22 January 2005 Like Glass's Metamorphosis, Pärt's Spiegel im Spiegel (again, played live!) spools out, seemingly endlessly and enjoyably - like subtlety different waves on a beach. I know I'm in the minority here, but, despite the privilege of seeing this pair of dancers perform it, I often find Wheeldon's choreography crossing too often the line between captivation and boredom. It's me, I'm sure, but I always think of him drawing attention to himself in his choreography, rather than to the music and dancers. It's all very faintly tinged with what I can only describe as narcissism. ASUKA Sugaru-Otome Yuuri Hidaka The Dragon God Tomoharu Yonekura Choreography Asami Maki after Akiko Tachibana Music Yoshikazu Kataoka Lighting Plan: Yuji Sawada World premiere Tokyo, 1957 Probably my ignorance again, but I found this a bit of a 'filler', a bit like Forest Song. Pleasant enough to watch, but it didn't really stir anything in me (positive or negative!). LA FILLE MAL GARDÉE pas de deux Francesca Velicu & Dmitri Zagrebin Choreography Alexander Gorsky after Marius Petipa, original by Jean Dauberval Music Cesare Pugni, Ludwig Minkus, Léo Delibes, Riccardo Drigo World premiere Bordeaux, 1 July 1789 This was a curious one to watch, such is the hold of the Ashton/Lanchberry version on me. Like a distant ancestor in the fossil record, I could see and appreciate the similarities and their contributions to the family tree, but its the modern version that represents the 'evolutionary peak'. The recorded music also contributed to feelings of distance and disconnect (for one, fleeting, moment I was reminded of one of those massive, steam-powered 'orchestras' that used to appear at travelling fairs - really strange). Nevertheless, it was lovely to see Velicu perform; she is another of those dancers with a definite stage presence, and I don't think I've ever seen her where she has failed to stand out (which is sort of self-fulfilling now I think about it...). CARMEN SUITE Olga Smirnova & Denys Matvienko Choreography Alberto Alonso Music George Bizet & Rodion Shchedrin World premiere Bolshoi, 20 April 1967 This, alone, was worth the price of admission! A solo by Smirnova! A solo by Matvienko! Then the pair of these two formidable beasts locked horns in high-stakes, increasingly close and seductive encounters as the air crackled with sexual tension. And that weird, droning-strings music - as if listening in some slightly altered, skewed state of mind. Matvienko still has it - his progress across stage in what might otherwise be comical steps are infused with the self-important seriousness of his own machismo. And Smirnova's Carmen, appearing in total control; but we, and possibly she, knows that she is subject to forces beyond her control as she is inexorably drawn towards Escamillo. The bit that summed her up for me was in her solo, where she steps, three of four times across the stage, each time pointing one leg vertically and grabbing its calf, while on pointe on her standing leg; on the last one she momentarily held her position and turned her head to look at us: there was not the merest hint of any movement anywhere else. Brava! I thought at the time I'd be happy for this piece to just carry on and on; strangely enough, a friend we bumped into on the way out of the theatre said exactly the same without prompting! I think that's a valid enough sample size to prove conclusively it was amazing! LA FILLE MAL GARDÉE pas de ruban Sabine Strokša & Philip Fedulov Choreography Frederick Ashton Music adapted by John Lanchbery from Ferdinand Hérold original World Premiere London, 28 January 1960 I was surprised to find this little snippet made me quite emotional. I love Ashton's Fille. The ribbon dance and, in particular, the music that accompanies it, is redolent of innocence, love, sunshine, etc, etc (probably kittens in there somewhere, too!). Add in the rationale behind the staging of the gala, and it became quite affecting. GOPAK, TARAS BULBA Volodymyr Kutuzov Choreography Rostislav Zakkharov Music Vasily Solovyov-Sedoi World Premiere Bolshoi, 15 April 1941 There are probably as many variations to Gopak as there are dancers who have danced it, and this was among one of the best I've seen. Short, and full of concentrated energy, it's a virtuoso piece - and Kutuzov didn't disappoint. He ended it with a series of 'handless cartwheels', for want of a better term (I've been told ice skaters call them camel jumps). GLORIA Minju Kang, Joseph Taylor & Lorenzo Trossello Choreography Kenneth MacMillan Music Francis Poulenc Design Andy Klunder World Premiere London, 13 March 1980 Again, given the context of the gala, this performance of part of Gloria - between two soldiers and a (beautifully-danced) 'angel' - became even more achingly poignant than usual. The appallingly destructive attrition of the last two years of warfare is difficult to comprehend from afar. Indeed, I often actively avoid it on the news because it is so distressing, but it says something about the nature of dance that it is able to convey, in a way that I am willing to pay for, quite profound insight into the best and the worst of humanity. I, too, came out on a high - but it was a much deeper high (if that's not too much of a contradiction) than usual.

We went to this afternoon's encore showing of last week's Manon broadcast. I was surprised by the reasonably good turn-out for an encore screening; I would guess there were a good fifty-plus in the audience (at the Vue on the edge of Bristol). From a technical point of view, I thought the sound was a bit too loud (certainly louder than it was in the ROH itself) and it dropped out for about a second or so during the first act; and I remain disappointed by the ability of the presumably state-of-the-art cinema projectors to render anything blacker than a darkish grey and to avoid background artifacts on fast pans. I know that reds predominate across much of the scenery and costumes in Manon, but they seemed a bit oversaturated. I'll be charitable and blame the cinema. I thought the live mixing of all those camera feeds into the broadcast itself was poor in places, though maybe I should also be a bit charitable here as it must be a tough, stressful job. On the other hand, there have been so many Manons recorded/broadcast over the years that the camera angles, shots and timing should be note perfect. I get that the broadcast can't be showing everything, everywhere, all at once, but there must be an optimal strategy, and I don't think that was evident in this broadcast. There were examples where wide shots were unnecessarily wide and diminished the action (eg the beginning of Manon being passed around in Act 2), or so close the context of the shot was lost (eg during Manon's solo her dancing might be directed towards Des Grieux, but he was not in shot). And, at the end of Act 2, why have so tight a close-up of Mon GM 'firing' his pistol (Oh! for the days of real blanks!) that you could not see his intended target, nor see Des Grieux pull Manon out of the line of fire? Also, in Act 3, the camera missed Osipova's Manon showing her utter contempt for the Gaoler by spitting at his dead body - a gesture that spoke volumes! On the plus side, some of the close-ups were really effective in conveying the emotions of all those wonderful dance-actors on stage. Such was the calibre of the performance that I hope a) the camera feeds have been saved separately - ie not just what was transmitted - and b) that the powers-that-be are then willing to put in the extra resources to do more than just tweak what was sent to the cinema. I was also impressed by the informative background information in the interval films and the live interviews. I felt Darcey did a much better job than I feared having read some of the earlier comments; she is at her best when not reading the autocue, so play to her strengths! Like others, I was annoyed at cutting away from the curtain calls to show the presenters, er, presenting from behind the curtain; it was much better when we used to get the live view from the audience's perspective and a simple voice-over (even better, why not a voice-over at the end of the curtain calls, perhaps over the credits?). As a result of showing the presenters rather than performers, we only got to see the last bit of Osipova/Clarke's curtain call where she kissed him; we also missed, during the earlier flower presentations, Osipova clapping Clarke when he was presented with his flowers. When the leads are happy enough to do that, you know it's been a good performance. On a final note unrelated to the broadcast, I find the final Act of Manon so harrowing that I have no wish to applaud between scenes, and can't understand why the majority of the audience does. Is it a reflex? For me it's almost equivalent in its grimness to the end of Act 3 of Mayerling. When the lights go down after the discovery of the murder/suicide in preparation for the graveyard scene there is silence in the auditorium, which seems entirely appropriate despite the incredible PDD that has just occurred (I can't think of a performance when there wasn't silence).

I enjoyed my second visit, to yesterday's matinee, just as much as the first, if not more. Part of that might have been the different vantage point (up in the tiny 'balcony' for the first, and on the front row yesterday - literally a couple of feet from the dancers at times) but, regardless, the two half-hour pieces are rich and ambiguous enough in their disjointed, dreamlike quality to benefit from repeated viewings. Once again the (admittedly small) Ustinov Studio was sold out and, while we were waiting in the foyer, a couple of hopefuls asked the door staff if there were any spare seats (someone who definitely did have a ticket was none other than Zenaida Yanowsky, who floated past us - that's how she seemed to move! - across the crowded foyer). With the small number of dancers and fairly spartan sets, I do hope this small-audience run has been sufficiently viable to be further promoted - perhaps even on Sadler's Wells main stage or, more appropriately in terms of intimacy, the Lilian Baylis or the Linbury? And it needs to be recorded. The first piece, Minotaur, was the clearest and most literal of the two, with the three dancers and the four characters they portray recounting distinct chapters in its own interpretation of the slaying of the Minotaur and the events that followed. However, my vantage point allowed me to pick up on nuances that had escaped me before. I was struck by the almost shell-shocked, introspective detatchment of McNally's Ariadne; she seemed emotionally numbed by the killing of her half-brother the Minotaur and her complicity in it - during the 'seduction' sequence between her and Theseus/Ball, her head and gaze were invariably directed towards the Minotaur's head lying to one side of the stage, only becoming more alive and animated when Theseus tried to leave her later in the 'departure' sequence (his repeatedly vain attempts at sneaking away from their shared bed, and his reaction to being being reeled back in, might have elicited laughter under other circumstances). Tommy Franzen was, once again, not to be outdone by the more familiar (to me) talents of Ball and McNally. If anything, his mastery of movement across the vertical surfaces of the set was even more impressive when viewed from 'below' next to the stage rather than 'above' from the balcony. For me, the second piece, Metamorphoses, was the more challenging to unpick and interpret on first viewing, as it sought to render the evolution of the relationship between two lovers from mythology (Cupid and Psyche) against what seemed to be a parallel backdrop of some sort of archeological dig. It yielded dividends on second viewing and, of course, the chance to see again (for the third time in as many weeks!) the living legend that is Alina Cojocaru. Within that evolution there was a gradual power-shift from Cupid to Psyche as their journey to mutual openness was portrayed as a literal journey from the depths to the surface of some sort of underground complex (each phase being punctuated by Franzen's 'archeologist' engaged in the surveying of what I saw as the long-lost ruins of some ancient, possibly advanced, civilisation - perhaps that which inspired the ancient myth, the echoes of which were playing out before us?). At the start, in the dark, Cupid/Ball is in complete control and, within this potentially dangerous asymmetry, is playing with Psyche/Cojocaru's obvious hesitation and concern elicited by that darkness. In the section called 'Ecstasy', she is becoming more at ease with the dark and more trusting of him. There is a wonderful sequence of moves that I had failed to see the relevance of before; she repeatedly falls backwards or leaps forward (in complete darkness, in her world) only to have Cupid catch and 'save' her at the last moment - that thrillingly ecstatic blend of feelings that is 'safe jeopardy', a bit like taking a rollercoaster ride or, as a child, being thrown in the air and caught by a parent! By 'Exposure' she is starting to influence the terms of their relationship and how it develops - it ends with her throwing a switch to expose Cupid to the full glare of the light. He no longer has anywhere to hide - for both their sakes, she has forced him to be 'honest'. He comes to terms with this shock during a solo called 'Elegy', and by the 'Epilogue' they and their relationship achieves a more equal footing (literally, with her balanced over him, supported on his feet). And, talking of feet, it has been pointed out before just how shabby the likes of Osipova's shoes can be; well, Alina wore pointe shoes for Metamorphoses that were similarly, if not more, worn, dirty and generally tatty. But. It. Didn't. Matter. One. Bit. She was lovely, her dancing was lovely, and her shoes were only important in allowing that loveliness full and free rein.

Last night was a tough visit to the ROH for a couple of reasons. This may sound a bit silly, but I was worried about the overall delivery of the performance itself, given that it was being broadcast. Normally, to paraphrase, 'what happens in the House stays in the House', but yesterday it was being showcased around the world, and my somewhat irrational concern must have been down to the esteem in which I hold the ROH, the Royal Ballet, Natalia Osipova and (to an increasing degree given his development and their burgeoning professional relationship) Reece Clarke. Of course, it turned out fine (though some of the orchestra sounded a bit 'nervous' in places), but it made me wonder just what levels of stress Kevin O'Hare must/might be under on nights like these - and that's not even considering all the other balls he has to juggle, including coping with the great and the good in attendance last night (that's over and above regular forum members, of course!). Then there's the ballet itself; I know it's a story of the corruption of innocence, of physical and sexual degradation, of sadistic levels of suffering, yet I go into the auditorium actively wishing for a performance of a calibre that will magnify those emotionally-demanding, challenging aspects. And I couldn't really have wished for much more than I got last night - apart from the hope that the powers that be will release it on disc in the near future. We seem drawn to stories that allow us to consider and confront in the realm of the imagination things we wouldn't wish to experience in reality. The genius of MacMillan is his unequalled ability to weave these dark and disturbing portraits, these 'warnings to the curious', through the medium of ballet (though the tragically short life and career of Liam Scarlett showed similar promise in works such as Hansel and Gretel, Sweet Violets and Frankenstein). I firmly believe that the opera house stage is an important 'safe space' in which the worst of humanity can be, and should be, presented to us; multiple, violent deaths in Frankenstein; sexual violence in The Invitation, Mayerling, Manon, etc, etc. Death and sex are pretty important aspects of life, and they are the driving force (at varying levels of abstraction) behind the majority of narrative (and perhaps all?) ballets. Part of the reason narrative ballets such as MacMillan's generate controversy, I believe, is the conflation of the medium and the message, with the result that works get labelled as gratuitous, voyeuristic, misogynistic 'entertainment'. I was 'entertained' last night (in the sense that I was profoundly moved, emotionally drained and would want to see it all over again), but I got no enjoyment whatsoever from most of the 'message' side of Manon - with the passing of the acts it becomes an accelerating vortex of violence, suffering and despair; yes, there are islands of hope in the seemingly unbreakable bond that develops between the two lovers - although, of course, death breaks even that at the finale. However, I get the most profound, glorious, and incomparable joy from the 'medium' through which that message is conveyed; the theatre, the staging, the spectacle, the music, the choreography, the costumes and, above all, the mastery and sheer beauty of its rendering by the dancers. That is how I square the circle - that is why, for me, a story of depravity can become a profound experience when conveyed through the magical medium that is MacMillan's ballet. And, speaking of dancers, much has and will be said about Osipova. Her fanbase was certainly out in force last night and, like me, many see her as the greatest dance actress of her generation. I've said these things before, but it's appropriate to say them again - briefly! Part of her strength is her openness, her on-stage 'honesty' for want of a better word: rather than play a role, she becomes the medium through which her character is channeled and manifests itself. She inhabits a strange 'superposition' on-stage where she is both unmistakably Osipova and independently Manon (or whoever) - Schrödinger's Dancer, for want of a better analogy. I've argued that dance is a zero-sum game when it comes to technique versus acting - increasing one is at the expense of the other. That may imply a null effect when it comes to overall outcome, but, having mentioned in my previous post on Manon that Osipova is giving Clarke the space in which to develop his talents, I'm beginning to think it's more symbiotic, where the mix of technique and acting opens things up in an inflationary, expansive way. And those acting/technique skills were certainly on show last night to great effect. For example, a pivotal scene is that before the card-playing scam, where Clarke implores Osipova to come back to him. I thought Clarke was excellent on Saturday, but a little extra dash of acting yesterday elevated it even more. At one point in the scene, Des Grieux approaches Manon, who then folds back as his arms engulf her. Last night Osipova visibly melted backwards even as he approached, seemingly caught in the radiant glow of his feelings for her. Later, he flings himself to the floor and lifts his head, in time to the music, in a last, desperate plea to her. When done well, it works brilliantly. Well, last night not only did Clarke seem beat perfect, but he left me with the impression he'd bared his entire soul to her through his posture and the completely open, vulnerable look he gave; that 'honesty' in performance is what she's good at, so to see him act like that bodes well for both his future and their pairing. Osipova's Manon left that scene having convinced me of the finely-balanced turmoil that was raging in her between the purity of Des Grieux's love for her and the materially-rich attractions of Monsieur GM; the differences between last night's and Saturday's performances were tiny - how long her hand lingered on the bracelet, how far she extended her arm towards him, the degree to which she shook her head when running off the stage. She is always a work-in-progress, always evolving, and I think it's wonderful! She certainly seemed pleased by it all; she gave Clarke a lovely kiss at the curtain calls - on the lips, not the cheek; again, a good omen for the future. But, Oh! how I wish the principals could have more than a couple of shots at Manon in this run! I would love to see what Osipova/Clarke - and other pairings - would mould the performance into by, say, their fourth outing! I guess that's the price of having such a fabulous reservoir of talent at the Royal Ballet (though I could argue that any company without Frola is incomplete... 🙂 ).

I'm very fickle when it comes to MacMillan, but in a way that highlights his genius as a choreographer of sweeping narrative ballets; during a run of any of his major pieces, that one becomes my favourite MacMillan/favourite ballet ever - until the next one, that is... So, Manon currently tops my list, which is hardly surprising given the quality on show at yesterday's matinee. It may be the 50th anniversary this year, but I left wondering if there is another established, full-length ballet that so resonates with and reflects the modern world? That sense of decay and neglect; of faded and lost glory; that concentration on hedonism, and the pursuit of money and the material world; the inequality, the hypocrisy, and the exploitation and persecution by the powerful of the weak and poor that those things engender. For me, the parallels are clear, and the ballet has become ever more hard-hitting over the years I have been lucky enough to see it. The setting may be archaic, fin de siècle, but the lessons are disturbingly modern. The character that encapsulates those themes to chilling effect is that of Monsieur GM. What is it about the lovely, proto-national-treasure that is Gary Avis that allows him to portray these types of monster? Yesterday's performance was the most extreme I have seen - not a note of melodrama to be found. Wherever he gets his inspiration from, it is difficult to think of anyone to, er, trump that vain, arrogant, misogynistic, psychotically narcissistic excuse for a human being that is Monsieur GM. Of course, Avis's cold-hearted and callous Gaoler is another memorably abhorrent character, and Lukas B B made a dismayingly effective attempt to emulate that vile creature. Beyond the gaoler's rape of Manon, I find the whole of Act 3 a difficult and despairing watch - as an example of man's inhumanity to man (mainly women, as ever) there is nothing positive or redemptive to be found, but I always leave amazed at the ability of the art that is ballet to convey such a visceral morality tale (though perhaps it is better called an amorality tale, as there is precious little morality on show). Lescaut is certainly an amoral chancer, and although I do not rate Campbell as highly as many on the forum do, I was pleasantly surprised at how well he played him (I'm sure that lop-sided grin helped). I prefer Sambé in the role, but that is personal taste. I'm a sucker for tableau scenes (the end of Firebird, the Prologue from The Sleeping Beauty, etc) and there is a small but very effective one in Act 1 soon after Manon's entrance, where she stands, centre-stage, surrounded by various characters, all wanting a piece of her and laying their hands on her. She is the centre of attention of the story, the cast and the many thousands of eyes in the audience, and in that moment comes the realisation of the power of her desirability. Osipova carries that moment so well, and at some sort of meta-level I imagine it reflects her own professional life (as it would that of many top ballerinas). Osipova is renowned for playing her characters 'in the moment', and yesterday was no different; I was surprised to find how definitive she was in rejecting Des Grieux's attempt to win her back in the brothel before the card game sting, shaking her head vigorously as she fled clutching at the prized bracelet on her wrist. In previous outings I'm sure she had been more ambiguous, leaving the stage more to find a solution to her quandary than to be persuaded by Lescaut to return to squeeze more money from Monsieur GM through a card game - either works, of course. Clarke's increasingly confident approach to partnering Osipova paid dividends in his portrayal of Des Grieux. Having said that, he is still developing and he didn't seem to have the same fluid intensity as my recollections of Hallberg and Shklyarov from previous runs (I realise that it's a bit unfair to bring up those very experienced, long-standing partners for comparison!). In places he seemed to concentrate more on technique at the expense of emotion - but it's early days! One thing that bodes well is that Osipova provides a huge amount of 'dramatic space' within which partners can express themselves, so I'm sure Clarke's dramatic expression will grow into that space with time. One thing Clarke excels at is physical presence and strength. He is an imposing sight on stage, and he is more than capable of handling the kinetic bundle of energy that is Osipova. That came into its own in the final part of Act 3 - I haven't seen her thrown around with that reckless confidence since Acosta; though, having said that, someone mentioned to me afterwards that he seemed to track her a bit too closely prior to catching her when she starts to fall right towards the end, rather diminishing the feeling of jeopardy. Regardless, I was put through an emotional wringer yesterday, but came out loving Manon, MacMillan, and Osipova even more than before. More of the same on Wednesday, please...

I've no idea if pictures stored on Google Drive are viewable by those without Google accounts, but I took a few pictures on my phone prior to and after last night's performance and put them on my Google Drive. The first one in particular might help make sense of my burblings above. Here are the links... The 'prelude' to Minotaur, with Kristen McNally on the bed, Matt Ball's leg exiting on the left, and my fingers top right!... https://drive.google.com/file/d/18krk0DuN28MTMHt2Ay4N-vw-rqSG-cjQ/view?usp=sharing Ball, McNally and Franzen at the end of Minotaur (they seem shortened as I was up in the 'circle')... https://drive.google.com/file/d/18msS3sj_KCcmedXfo5YqHC6jKtVb2yCn/view?usp=sharing Cojocaru and Ball at the end of Metamorphoses... https://drive.google.com/file/d/18iSb7oVo1zNHH8Mjh0YIp6Ykbvt5KMBV/view?usp=sharing

There's a fair amount of blurring of lines within this dance programme based on two stories from mythology - all to good effect, I might add:- - it's titled Metamorphoses, yet it comprises two pieces, one of which is Metamorphoses, the other Minotaur. Is that deliberate, or something more prosaic like a typo on the part of the Ustinov? - it features Matthew Ball in both pieces, on what is effectively the same set, which led to the rather unusual note in the programme that their (and our) 'delight' in having him feature in both pieces should not be misconstrued as implying linkage as they are 'singular and separate works' - both performances have preludes which play out while the audience trickles in and settles down, and these merge into the performances themselves; in Minotaur, Kristen McNally comes out and lays on a bed, Matthew Ball puts some finishing touches to some paintings that decorate the set, and Tommy Franzen sits in a corner - this blurring over time helps generate a blurring of space - there is a clear demarcation of audience and stage, yet such is the intimate, almost claustrophobic, nature of the tiny Ustinov theatre that we are almost part of it (the lighting helped reinforce this) - the period in which the pieces are set is ambiguous; In Minotaur, one episode has the music apparently coming from on old valve radio (which reminded my partner of Pita's The Mother); Also, during the intermission before Metamorphoses, Tommy Franzen (non-dancing and uncredited) explores the dimly-lit set with a head-mounted light, and sets up a theodolite to make measurements of various motifs embossed on the walls; this seemingly modern-day exploration plays out as a parallel, confounding story between the episodes of dance retelling the ancient myth of Cupid and Psyche; Furthermore, the transitions between those episodes add to the confusion around time and place as they are accompanied by the sound of an elevator (I thought here of Pink Floyd's Welcome to the Machine) and bars of sinking light which give the impression of upward travel (cleverly, this reinforces the journey that Cupid and Psyche's relationship is taking from the concealment of darkness to the openness of light). The stage design was sparse and gloomy; its high, dark walls were reminiscent of a dungeon and added to the overall feeling of confinement and claustrophobia. In Metamorphoses, the lighting achieved the neat trick of allowing us to see things that were happening in the dark, without shattering that illusion. On occasion, one high, narrow, very intense strip light that ran across the whole stage near the audience gave the impression of a fourth wall that further confined the dancers. The music was an interesting, appropriate mix of styles and composers, and the recording was played right in the Goldilocks zone - neither too quiet nor too loud. The Ustinov boasts of its good sound system and acoustics, and I can understand why. The main draw that took us on our first visit to the Ustinov was the opportunity to see Cojocaru dance (having only just seen her the week before in La Strada!), but it was also a real pleasure to see Matthew Ball - not only in both of these modern works, but also in a such a small venue and outside of London. It was also lovely to see Kristen McNally in more than her usual supporting, character roles at the ROH. She danced and played the changing fortunes and feelings of Ariadne rather beautifully; her solo 'lament' was captivating, and her dancing with her male partners was impressive (my partner asked me 'when was the last time you saw Kristen properly lifted?', and I really couldn't recall...). The revelation of the evening, though, was Tommy Franzen. He played the Minotaur at the start of, er, Minotaur, and Dionysus (who rescues McNally's Ariadne from her desolate state) towards the end. As the Minotaur, in a section called 'combat', he and Matthew Ball's Theseus fight. The physicality of Franzen was incredible - a mixture of stunt action, gymnastics and contemporary choreography, including what could almost be described as break-dance moves (at one point he moves as if lit by a strobe - as a series of freeze frames). He also leapt a good metre or more up the wall to hold onto a ledge and handhold with such precision it looked like he's been attracted there by magnets (the same sort of effect as when a vaulter hits the mat and doesn't move an inch or degree). But it was his appearance as Dionysus that really impressed. The posters and programme feature a picture of Franzen seemingly suspended above McNally asleep on her bed see: https://www.theatreroyal.org.uk/events/metamorphoses I assumed this would be on a wire, if it were to feature in the performance at all. However, he first appears on the opposite side of the stage to the sleeping McNally, perched at the very top of the scenery wall. This section of the performance is called Deus ex Machina, but there is no contrivance such as a wire to be seen; instead, the knobbly surface of the walls of the stage act as foot and handholds and he moves smoothly and silently down and across the stage walls like some weird amalgam of Gollum and Spiderman, occasionally stopping to lean out at right angles to the wall before moving again. It is him hanging onto the wall next to McNally's bed, that gives the impression of being suspended in space in the poster. Later in the section, McNally is sat at the base of the wall, still oblivious of his presence, and he makes his way vertically down from the top of the wall towards her - all I could think of was how on earth they got it through health and safety! (it turns out he is an avid rock-climber, but even so!) The last part of their final duet together has him on the bed, grasping her waist with his feet and supporting her outstretched body - all without a flicker of wobble or movement; it must be amazing to have legs and feet that you can use like arms and hands! We so enjoyed the evening that when we got home we managed to nab the last remaining pair of tickets from the web-site for another performance. I do hope they continue to tour this production, and hopefully film it, as it's a really effective programme ideally suited to smaller venues. I really can't find anything to fault...

Just spotted and spoke to Frola on the street outside the Coli and he IS dancing this afternoon! 😁

Indeed - and wasn't her on-stage partner also appearing with her in Dubai? In this specific instance, it really is a case of 'tilting at windmills' as both of them were on peak form. Like elite track and field athletes who jet around the world to appear in various competitions, they don't seem to suffer from what appears to us to be a very demanding schedule. In fact, there is an argument that they need regular performances at the various meets in order to maintain their competitive and performative edge.

I realise I'm a bit of an outlier in terms of the extent to which I dislike of this production of Don Q; the emasculation of a vibrant, punchy orchestral score to what is flaccid, impotent mood music; gimmicks such as 'table-dancing' - which does little except break up the flow of the dancing and adds real physical jeopardy; the inspired enhancement/wanton contamination (delete as appropriate; no, on second thoughts, just delete the first one!) of one of the grand-old ballets by 'vocalisations'. That last one particularly annoys me; OK, there's no specific prohibition of 'speech' in the definition of ballet, but that's because to me it's axiomatic of the medium. A bit like Wheeldon introducing 'ugly' feet as a mark of his style, so Acosta's worrying tendency to add vocals to his 'brand' of choreography ends up adversely affecting both the style and the experience. And, yes, there will always be exceptions (eg Hilarion's call to dance in AK's Giselle, the scream at the start of Act 3 of Anastasia, the operatic interlude in Mayerling, and the poems in Façade) but these are integral parts of the original/early productions, not bolted on as a style choice to differentiate one production from another. I couldn't work up much enthusiasm to post about the two earlier performances I've seen this run, even though there were things - good and bad - worth noting. So I didn't post about the real danger in having Basilio act out his fake suicide on a table on which his cloak has been placed: in the first Magri/Sambe performance, Marcelino slipped on the cloak and almost lost his balance as he leapt up from playing dead. And I didn't post about James Hay's superbly-observed portrayal of Gamache last Tuesday; OK, I tend to watch (from the Amphi) with the aid of binoculars, but I'm still trying to figure out exactly how he managed to make his eyes dominate the stage and the audience's attention! Nor did I post about Magri's wonderful, rock-steady balances in the Act 3 PDD last Tuesday, and how gutted I felt when that supremely confident display was derailed at the end of the fouettes. Or even how strange the atmosphere was in the unusually quiet and empty ROH leading up to to Tuesday evening's performance - no-one knew what to expect, and there were more unfilled seats than filled (very reminiscent of the post-covid, socially-distanced performances). And then, suddenly, the Amphi was almost full - the 'exciting news' that the ROH had teased us with all those months ago turned out to be an 'excitable audience'; their excitement might have made the atmosphere crackle, but it seemed oddly misplaced. Also odd was the sight of loads of audience members in the stalls with their backs to the stage; my initial thoughts were of first-timers taking selfies with the iconic curtains as backdrop, until I realised it was a very old-fashioned demonstration of an old-fashioned word - obeisance. Can we move on, please? So, moving on, I went to yesterday's matinee for Osipova rather than the production, as I hadn't seen her dance since Cinderella all those months ago. In the same way that @Sim would pay to see Reece Clarke read from the telephone directory, so I would pay to see Natalia Osipova - though I might insist, in the true spirit of ballet, that it was mimed rather than read! And such are Osipova's dance/acting skills, I believe I would get my money's worth... In previous runs, even with the considerable talents of the likes of Muntagirov, she'd been unable to spark this dire production back to life, but in Clarke she seems to have found someone who's on the same wavelength as her, someone who resonates with her - and together they lit up the stage (ably supported by most of the rest of the cast). Good grief - I was even captivated by that bit at the start of Act 2, before the gypsies turn up; the bit that tries, unsuccessfully, to bathe in the reflected glory of some sublime music from La Bayadere. In hindsight, the clue was in the rehearsal shown on World Ballet Day - they just seemed to work so naturally together. Tellingly, Osipova put as much into her acting as she did to her dancing - they are the two inseparable sides of the same coin to her, and illustrate just why she is such a phenomenal performer. On the night, the deficiencies of the production were pushed into the background and I ended up enjoying a superb couple of hours watching engaging characters and superb dancing. And it wasn't just me; afterwards, we met up with a friend with an incredible depth of knowledge and experience watching ballet, and they were as equally impressed. Gary Avis is a treasure trove of talent. Last Tuesday, at the start of Act 2, his face achieved the most amazing feat of relaying to the audience the turmoil of consternation, confusion and concern of his imagination: he couldn't have been clearer if he'd vocalised his thoughts! Yesterday he repeated the trick with Lorenzo. I've seen three different Gamaches in the three performances, and it speaks volumes about the calibre of the RB dancers that two of them - James Hay on Tuesday and Calvin Richardson yesterday - I would happily label 'definitive'. It's a fine line between 2D caricature and 3D character, but both stood on the right side. I didn't find that with Sancho Panza; I felt Daichi Ikarashi gave a beautifully, er, rounded performance yesterday, whereas the others were more caricatures or even grotesques. But at some level, everyone is there to see Kitri and Basilio, and the 'famous bits'. So how did that go? Well, there were a couple of 'issues'. For those who remember her awful fall in the first season, there was a heart-in-the-mouth moment in the first act, just before the travelling fouettes past the matadors, when there was the start of a slip from which she rapidly recovered. My partner said as much to KOH on the way out at the interval and he nodded in agreement (but there again, he probably nods in agreement with all the punters - it's part of his job!). In the Act 3 PDD I felt Reece finished his solo a bit awkwardly or too soon, which may be why Osipova seemed to start her fouettes slightly early, then hesitate then start again. But other than that, I was so utterly impressed by the pair of them. He was so confident, so assured, and so darn good in delivering the acting and the technique that you would be forgiven for not realising it was his debut. Osipova bounded on completely pumped up, snapped her fingers at the audience, and never slowed down from then on in; yes, like any athlete she puffed briefly after exertion, but I saw absolutely no evidence of fatigue - she seemed just as full of beans in Act 3 and the curtain calls as she did in Act 1. I have noticed on occasion (though not sufficiently or accurately enough to draw firm conclusions) that when she is learning/developing a role from actually performing it (and she always seems to be developing roles, regardless of how familiar they are), her facial expressions reflect her concentration as well as those of her character and, as others have noted, this seemed to be the case yesterday. Given how exciting yesterday was, I really don't know what 'extra' we are going to get next Friday, but I can't wait to find out! I remain in awe of speed at which she conveys the narrative through her acting, the degree to which she does it, and the way she embellishes it with nuanced observation. Emotions played across her face with machine-gun rapidity in Act 1 as fans flicked, shoulders rolled and flirting was noticed. Just after the Act 1 entrance of the pair of them, she moves down then across the stage with a series of jumps - her leg goes up, her head rolls back and her arms go out in a celebratory explosion of happiness that convulses her whole body. And all in perfect harmony with the music - quite extraordinary. And the tiny things; when Basilio's leg refuses to play dead, she surreptitiously leans on it to keep it still. There was also an unexpected depth to their relationship. She seemed to revel in a kiss from him, before realising that might be a bit too much of a come-on, so appears annoyed. And at the start of Act 2, when Basilio suggests they might spend the night, er, resting together, she seems to weigh up the pros and cons before demurring. I never thought I'd be looking forward to seeing this production again, but roll on Friday!

For further clarity, anyone who knows Sebastian would know he'd be mortified if someone bought the ticket on the basis of having misread "the front (row AA)" in his post as "the front row (AA)"...