Whispers titillate the Floral Hall that tonight's Triple Bill is a sign of things to come. A decade under the helm of Dame Monica Mason and the masses are expecting something different from newly-crowned Artistic Director Kevin O'Hare. Despite being dubbed a "practical" choice by some, it is worth noting that this evening's triple performance is entirely contemporary: not a MacMillan in sight. Which doesn't seem *so* practical, does it? It is also no coincidence that the Royal Ballet's first ever artist in residence kicks off the night.

The name on everyone's lips tonight is Liam Scarlett and many are asking the inevitable: Is this O'Hare's McGregor? The answer is, not quite yet. Liam himself has described Viscera, created a year ago for Miami City Ballet, as 'plotless', and this self-confessed evaluation rings true tonight. Whilst Viscera promises a great deal from Royal Ballet's new resident, Scarlett is yet to punch his mark and find his voice. But let's start with the positives: polished, elegant and beautifully-lit, theatrical plum-dyed flamenco flourishes show the depth of Scarlett's originality - when he trusts in instinct. Which is the crux of this new work: when Liam hits his stride, the tenderness and intimacy he ignites between his dancers show the depth of passion within. A feline stroke of Marianela Nuñez's face against Ryoichi Hirano's arch is all that it takes. It is unfortunate, then, that these brief moments are overwritten by formulaic group dances that lack his own stamp and a sense of direction and purpose.

Whereas Scarlett's Viscera is strangely absent, the return of Wayne McGregor's Infra is gut-wrenchingly present, slicing through the austerity mist. The ecstasy of Infra sparks with every slight nuance: that flick of Eric Underwood's foot, as if looking for trodden chewing gum on the sole. Day-to-day drudgery and despair is captured, warts and all. Principal dancers are scanned like a value-pack of baked beans. The wasteland of the soul cries out against a factory line of anonymous commuters. Edward Watson jogs backward offstage, as if being rewound, paused and played again at normal speed. And there is that beautiful pas-de-deux, as Underwood cradles Melissa Hamilton in spite of the chaos. Each dancer is on their own journey, and yet the piece is fused together by a collective desire. That desire for hope when all seems lost. Infra is surely McGregor's masterpiece.

And so we are left with Christopher Wheeldon's Fool's Paradise, a visually-soothing work which dreamily glides yet fails to awaken. Underwhelming is never something one associates with Wheeldon, and yet the faultless beauty of both the golden light and Joby Talbot's emotive score leaves us wanting something more from his nine dancers, including Sarah Lamb, Federico Bonelli, Melissa Hamilton, Edward Watson and Steven McRae. That said, it is a lovely piece to watch, and when the cinematic confetti falls, the haunting imagery of Sam Mendes' American Beauty is evoked.

As the night draws to a close, the real name on everyone's lips is Kevin O'Hare. Proving himself capable of injecting the Opera House with a new lease of modernity, tonight has invested in contemporary choreographic talent and demonsted an uncompromising commitment to showcasing it, warts and all. Long may it continue...

The internet has been abuzz over the past weeks, if not months, about the Royal Ballet's latest triple bill with not one but two world premieres from its hottest talents, Wayne McGregor and Liam Scarlett. While the press has been awash with articles about McGregor's collaborations with Mark Ronson and Graham Pugh, the Royal Ballet's more loyal fans have been bubbling with excitement over Liam Scarlett's foray into narrative ballet. In all of these discussions, little mention has been made of Christopher Wheeldon's Polyphonia, which could be seen as prescient.

As the opening piece, Polyphonia is a neoclassical abstract work for eight dancers, featuring rising star Beatriz Stix-Brunell in an impressive solo. While there are interesting moments and changing moods to reflect each movement of Gyorgi Ligeti's music, it's a piece which is likely to be adored by neoclassical lovers, and dismissed by the rest.


Liam Scarlett's Sweet Violets, about Walter Sickert against the background of the Jack the Ripper murders, is gloriously star-studded, featuring the cream of the Royal Ballet in its first cast: Johann Kobborg as Walter Sickert and Steven McRae as Jack, with Thiago Soares, Federico Bonelli, Alina Cojocaru, Tamara Rojo, Laura Morera and Leanne Cope in additional roles. And there lies the first of Sweet Violet's problems: too many characters, most of them underdeveloped. While Leanne Cope gives a brilliant performance as a terrified whore, she's quickly dispatched and doesn't live beyond the opening scene. Similarly, while Steven McRae is perfectly cast as the sinister Jack, his is a role which could definitely be developed further, allowing Scarlett to explore further the relationship between Jack and Sickert. McRae's Jack could be interpreted as an embodiment of the demon within, and the way he holds up the dying Cojocaru to look at Kobborg's catatonic figure hints at some such link between the two men.

As this is Scarlett's work, of course there is beautiful and unusual choreography, but having watched the mastery of Asphodel Meadows, Sweet Violets is something of a letdown, as the choreography fails to live up to his high standards, and the narrative is woefully in need of editing. Definitely worth seeing, but probably not too many times.


The unexpected hit of the evening was Wayne McGregor's Carbon Life, proving that if you cram enough into a piece, there'll be something for everybody. Most welcome was the relaxation of McGregor's frenetic signature style, despite a brief blip towards the end as though to remind the audience what he's best known for. However, following the success of Royal Opera House's 'Royal Ballet Live', several of the sections felt a little too much like watching warmup exercises from their daily class - amid brilliant performances from all of his dancers, especially Lauren Cuthbertson and Steven McRae.

Live music was probably always going to be the next frontier for McGregor, although it's impossible not to compare the results with the far more superior staging of Hofesh Shechter's gig-within-a-dance-show Political Mother. While the live music factor may have had a significant impact on ticket sales, it didn't have as much artistic impact on the ballet as could be hoped.

The visual aspects of Carbon Life were by far the strongest, initially with a screen reducing the dancers to shadowy indistinct figures, and with their costumes which slowly built up from black briefs for all to outlandish items including bizarre tutus, headgear, wings and boots. But by the end, between the costumes and the squares of lighting, you start to suspect that actually all the blurb about Jung, animus/anima and the collective unconsciousness was just a diversion, and actually Carbon Life is all about chess. And after all, isn't it about time Ninette de Valois's Checkmate had a trendy makeover?

Bring earplugs and, if you're not sitting near the stage, binoculars.

How many of us actually remember the storyline of Alice in Wonderland? For that matter, how many of us even managed to reach the end of the book when we were small children? Familiarity with the storyline certainly helps when watching Christopher Wheeldon's adaptation, given how little sense Lewis Carroll's novel has to start off with. But first and foremost, the Royal Ballet's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland is a spectacle rather than a ballet: so much attention to detail has been lavished on the sets, costumes and digital artwork that the choreography appears meagre and uninspired by comparison. For people seeking a spectacle, this won't matter - but those seeking a spectacle with Great Dance will be left disappointed.

The dance-storytelling of Alice is at its strongest in the opening scenes of Act 1, where we see Alice's family preparing for lunch with Alice and her sisters playing games, Lauren Cuthbertson's Alice flirting with Federico Bonelli's Jack, and Edward Watson's Lewis Carroll consoling and distracting her after Bonelli is fired by her mother. After Alice is tugged through the rabbit hole by a desperate Edward Watson, the visual aspects of the piece take over, and the choreography is mostly delegated to depicting Alice's journey, through bourées and arabesques, and to fleshing out the endless outlandish and vivid characters which she encounters over the next two hours.

And the length is another issue with Alice; this version of Alice was extended to provide the storyline with more cohesion and to increase its family-friendliness, however it should also have faced some ruthless editing to remove a number of scenes and reduce the length of others in order to tighten up the narrative - and not lose the attention of the children in the audience!

The funniest scene is probably Wheeldon's spoof of Sleeping Beauty's Rose Adagio, performed by Laura Morera as the terrifying Queen of Hearts, partnered by four very scared cards in fear for their lives - resulting in several undignified mishaps. The sad little hedgehogs were easily the best of the animals, running for their little lives to avoid being used for bowling with flamingos. Kristen McNally, clutching a meat cleaver, proved yet again that she is always a scene-stealer while other vividly memorable characters were Steven McRae's tap dancing Mad Hatter, Edward Watson's anxious White Rabbit - and, of course, Lauren Cuthbertson's delightful Alice.

There was too little variety in much of the choreography, not helped by the choreography being predominantly classical in style. Nevertheless, weak choreography aside, this is very much a 21st-century Alice, with impressive use of projection and sets to capture audiences' imagination. And don't go expecting the Alice of the childhood novel: Wheeldon's Alice is about the burgeoning relationship between Alice and Jack, and the Wonderland scenes are Alice's attempts to find and redeem him.

The opening night of the Royal Ballet's latest double bill was special for two reasons: a unique opportunity to watch Alina Cojocaru, Tamara Rojo and Carlos Acosta in the same evening, and the focus placed on The Dream after Sergei Polunin unexpectedly resigned a week before his debut in the leading role.

From the opening scenes with shadowy fairies, pausing intermittently for effect, The Dream was peopled with a dizzying cast of characters, both fairy and non-fairy. Frederick Ashton compressed the story of A Midsummer's Night Dream into 52 minutes, so in addition to the lead roles, we also saw the two pairs of lovers, Helena and Demetrius, and Hermia and Lysander, and a wonderfully entertaining ensemble of Rustics, with plenty of hayseeds between them.

Steven McRae had already been scheduled to perform Oberon with Roberta Marquez as Titania, so he was a natural choice of replacement for Sergei Polunin, and his confident masterful performance easily banished any thoughts of Polunin. While his other performances, for example in Manon, may have been tinged with a little too much self-confidence, this was perfect for his portrayal of Oberon, which resulted in being one part otherwordly, one part regal, one part untouchable. London audiences have been starved of Alina Cojocaru lately, and despite being almost unrecognisable in a curly blonde wig, her performance was as captivating as ever - few dancers have the ability to dance with such lightness, or appearing so full of delight. But both were easily overshadowed by Valentino Zucchetti as Puck: all enthusiasm and leaps, his Puck resembled a puppy on speed, overcome with eagerness and overexcitement! Much of the audience was in laughter at his antics - only to bid him a sad farewell at the end of The Dream.

Song of the Earth is one of MacMillan's best-loved one-act ballets, set to Mahler's song cycle, and drawing on the ancient Chinese poems used in the songs for inspiration. It was recently performed by Scottish Ballet in their recent visit to Sadler's Wells, and it was a treat not only to see it again, but to watch it performed by the familiar faces of the Royal Ballet's dancers. A further treat was the return of Rupert Pennefather and Lauren Cuthbertson in two of the lead roles, following recent injuries.

Song of the Earth is about two lovers who are stalked by Death - performed by Carlos Acosta on very good form; the lovers were portrayed by Tamara Rojo and Rupert Pennefather. The constrained choreography suited Acosta, a technically challenging role which provided him with moments of virtuosity amid a beautifully nuanced performance. Rupert Pennefather was making his debut as the Man, and although he did not appear to be entirely comfortable in his role at times, he gave a strong performance, starting with his and Acosta's dramatic entry onstage. As Song of the Earth uses such a wide cast of dancers, it's an excellent opportunity for them to shine, which certainly Olivia Cowley, Alexander Campbell and Ricardo Cervera did - but special mention goes to Lauren Cuthbertson for her wonderful joyful solo during the fourth song.

Along with a number of MacMillan's one-act ballets, the choreography is distinctively stylised, and Song of the Earth draws on the Chinese inflections in the music to infuse his choreography with Chinese imagery, from elegant curves to the men's upside-down horse-riding stance, which provoked laughter from the audience. While the actions the depicted by the dancers are not always identifiable, every moment of the choreography is so beautiful, it hardly matters.

"Intimate" isn't a word one would normally associate with the Royal Opera House, but after the Royal Ballet's staging of Romeo & Juliet at the O2 last June, that's definitely how the majestic auditorium felt this evening - with the stage looking somewhat cramped, after the expanses of the stage at the O2.

Romeo and Juliet is perhaps not the most accessible ballet for first-time audiences as it has more storytelling and less dance than, for example Manon, however it has some breathtaking solos and duets which are not to be missed. With a huge cast to accommodate, there are numerous little sections for different characters, which can make the storyline feel increasingly dense throughout Act 1, and thinning out after the first interval, with a notable performance by the ever-engaging Alexander Campbell as the leader of the atonal mandolin players.

For tonight's opening night, the lead roles were performed by Carlos Acosta and Tamara Rojo - hence the performance having sold out long ago. Tamara Rojo, aged 37, was an utterly convincing teenager, from her childlike early scenes to her portrayal of teenage heartbreak and tantrums in Act 3. Even Acosta, who too-often saves his best for the second show, gave one of his finest performances of the past year, almost showing off in endless sequences of turns and jumps. While Act 2 was very much Acosta's Act, almost overshadowing his co-performers, Rojo's spellbinding emotional performances were the focus of Act 3, with Acosta nearly forgotten by the end.

Both Rojo and Acosta gave completely mesmerising performances, as did the rest of the cast - especially Gary Avis as Tybalt, exuding menace in his final scenes; Genesia Rosato as Juliet's nurse; and it's always a treat to be able to watch Kenta Kura in a "leading" role.

Tamara Rojo and Carlos Acosta perform again on 19 January (returns & day tickets only); other performances between now and 31 June include those by Marianela Nuñez/Thiago Soares, Alina Cojocaru/Johan Kobborg, Lauren Cuthbertson/Sergei Polunin, Edward Watson/Leanne Benjamin and Roberta Marquez/Steven McRae. Do what you can to get a ticket.

2010 ended with several discussions about the dearth of Good Dance that year, with the hope that Good Dance would play a more prominent role in 2011. Although the conversations had been specifically about contemporary dance, 2011 took a somewhat unexpected twist, as those who follow me on Twitter will know.

If anybody had told me a year ago that I'd be a diehard Royal Ballet fan by the end of 2011, I'd have assumed they had me confused with someone else. Although I've loved modern ballet since I first saw NDT2 in 2000, I've tended to approach modern ballet from the contemporary dance side of things, treading warily among ballet companies in the fear that they might not be "modern enough". That came to a crashing halt in late March, when the amount of raving about Steven McRae in Rhapsody, in the Royal Ballet's then triple bill, persuaded me to book a ticket and see for myself. Although that didn't quite convince me, Mara Galeazzi's gala in April, followed by Draft Works, a platform for the dancers to show their own choreography, were enough to make that final step.

To an extent, it's been a relief that ballet has played such a prominent role in my dance calendar this year, as so many of the contemporary dance companies, especially the eagerly-awaited companies such as La La La Human Steps, Beiging Dance Theatre and Darshan Singh Bhuller failed to live up to their high expectations; this autumn has also seen a worrisome trend towards overlong pieces, as though "leaving the audience wanting less" is the new "leaving the audience wanting more".

There are two notable mentions for 2011, the first of which has dominated discussions about dance this year: dance on film. Yes, Black Swan - and the audiences have been firmly divided into those who took it very very seriously, and complained bitterly about its lack of authenticity and accuracy - and those who laughed nonstop from the beginning to end. Other films released in 2011 were Pina, a beautiful and haunting tribute to Pina Bausch, one of dance's greatest pioneers - and a very limited overdue release of Mao's Last Dancer, Li Cunxin's autobiography, introduced by Chi Cao himself.

The other mention is for "pop up dance" - while there have been several dance installations at galleries such as the Tate and the V&A, the ones I saw were Kristen McNally's #kanyeballet at the Covent Garden Apple Store, New Movement's dance installation at the Architectural Association in Bloomsbury, and Zenaida Yanowsky performing in an installation at the Whitechapel Art Gallery, choreographed by Will Tuckett - each of these events has been an eye-opener, and rewarding for all audiences; let's hope 2012 has even more similar events in store for us. As well as much much much more work by Kristen McNally, of course!!


Best Dance Moments of 2011 are as follows:

- 'The Royal Ballet. Not What You Think'.
Link: www.youtube.com/watch?v=-46BZD4zNlk

Anonymously posted on YouTube on 16 February, this video was an instant sensation, featuring highlights of the Royal Ballet's many artists and works. It wasn't until The Ballet Bag interviewed the Royal Ballet's Bennet Gartside at Move It! on 13 March that he admitted that he was the creator of this video, which has humbly notched up over 46,000 hits since then. We're still waiting for the follow-up...


- Daniil Simkin, American Ballet Theatre

Although I'd read The Ballet Bag's interview with Daniil Simkin prior to ABT's performances at Sadler's Wells in February, his performance in Benjamin Millepied's Everything Doesn't Happen at Once immediately made it clear that he's in a league way above many ballet dancers. If anything, one could complain that Millepied's piece contained too many dancers who weren't Simkin.

Here's a video of Daniil Simkin from 2006: www.youtube.com/watch?v=I2aj79ql9iY


- The Royal Ballet

Outstanding performances this year have been from:
- Marianela Nuñez and Rupert Pennefather in Glen Tetley's Voluntaries
- Kenneth MacMillan's The Rite Of Spring
- Tamara Rojo and Sergei Polunin in Frederick Ashton's Marguerite & Armand
- Lauren Cuthbertson and Federico Bonelli in Kenneth MacMillan's Requiem
- Liam Scarlett's Asphodel Meadows, with special congratulations to Leanne Cope


- Rambert Dance Company

Again proving that their spring programmes are not to be missed, and best seen at least twice, their May programme included a stunning performance of Paul Taylor's Roses, which had been overlooked in all the publicity for Tim Rushton's Monolith, which was reminiscent of Wayne McGregor's earlier work, with a baroque veneer. One viewing really was not sufficient to do this programme justice - or at least, these two pieces.


- English National Ballet's Roland Petit Triple Bill

Coinciding perfectly with our July festival, this triple bill was a long-overdue opportunity to see Petit's work performed in London - which tragically became a tribute to Petit after he died unexpectedly two weeks beforehand. Although the pieces were overlong, and I didn't get to see Le Jeune Homme et la Mort, the sassiness, quirkiness and theatricality of Petit's choreography was wonderful to watch, and a much-needed addition to the London-based ballet diet.

An extract of Le Jeune Homme et la mort, performed by Mikhail Baryshnikov in the film White Nights:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qg29jOazkOo


- Birmingham Royal Ballet in Pineapple Poll

Having watched two tributes to John Cranko performed by the Royal Ballet (Tetley's Voluntaries and MacMillan's Requiem), this was the first time I've seen John Cranko's work, which was described as 'quite simply, barking mad' by G J Dowler of Classical Source. With more than a few nods to Broadway style, the charm of this piece was completely irresistible, with dancing and characters to love.

Rehearsals for BRB's performances of Pineapple Poll: www.youtube.com/watch?v=EcTHCHDoeJY


- Ballet Cymru's Under Milk Wood

Let's face it, we don't often leave dance shows on an ecstatic high - but that's definitely how the audience felt after Ballet Cymru's skilful adaptation of Dylan Thomas's Under Milk Wood, narrated by Gwyn Vaughen Jones with a haunting score by Thomas Hewitt Jones. It beautifully showcased this small company's dancers, especially Helena Casado Cortes.


- Sydney Dance Company

Although Rafael Bonachela's company received mixed reviews during its recent visit to the South Bank Centre, the evening was a stunning showcase of Bonachela's beautiful choreography, and the impressive ability of Sydney Dance Company's dancers. The second piece, LANDforms, emphasised the dancers' individual abilities through a series of solos, duet and group sections. Let's hope they return soon: England needs Bonachela!

An excerpt of LANDforms: www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ZNQV7xf8lQ
 

Passion, betrayal and despair - what more could one ask for in a ballet? The Royal Ballet's current Manon programme opened on Thursday evening with amazing performances from Rupert Pennefather and Sarah Lamb; today's performances featured Marianela Nuñez and Nehemiah Kish in the lead roles. While Marianela Nuñez is one of the best-loved dancers in the Royal Ballet, Kish is still finding his feet but had managed to impress audiences with his performances in Manon in the early summer.

The story is relatively simple: boy meets girl. Boy and girl fall in love. Girl is sold by her mercenary brother to an older man. Boy wins back girl. Older man is wounded, brother is killed, girl is arrested for prostitution, deported to the swamps of Louisiana and dies. The end. And yet there is so very very much more to the story, thanks to Kenneth MacMillan...

The show opened on Lescaut, Manon's brother, sitting in a pool of his cloak, staring out at the audience. He remained there while the set assembled around him, creating the scene of an inn's courtyard. In a curious twist to this afternoon's performances, Lescaut was performed by Thiago Soares, Marianela's newlywed husband - yet it was all too easy to forget about the real-life relationship between the dancers during Soares's whirlwind performance as Manon's dissolute yet elegant brother, who willingly sells his sister to fund his lavish lifestyle. His drunken scene is easily the best of all of the Lescauts - although Ricardo Cervera's is a close rival - and his sheer enjoyment of dancing made it all the more tragic when he was killed at the end of Act 2. Yet while Leanne Benjamin's Manon and Cervera's Lescaut shared a noticeably incestuous relationship, there was no such impropriety between this afternoon's siblings, only an extra rawness at Lescaut's death, shared by the entire audience.

Manon is defined by its personality-driven roles, which demand strong acting ability from all of the leading characters. We love Lescaut for the bafflement he shows when he encounters his Mistress's foot during his drunken duet. We relish Poodle's determination to carry off Iohna Loots, and his play-acting at the side of the stage during Act 2. And so we need a Manon whose character we can see and understand - is she innocent despite her brother's depravity? Does she relish the riches which Monsieur GM bestows upon her? Does she actually love Des Grieux? Does he love her? Alas the answers to these last two were a little bit fuzzy this afternoon: after a hesitant Act 1, the lead characters appeared to fall in love during the interval although their passion remained somewhat mechanical and abandonfree.

Although Marianela's dancing was beautiful throughout, her Manon was not very three-dimensional, simply portraying innocence at the start and girlishness for the remainder of the show. She wasn't helped by the lack of chemistry between herself and Kish; his Act 1 was very hesitant - with the most awkward initial solo any of us will probably see - although his confidence improved significantly after the first interval, resulting in some of the most beautiful and fluid dancing we have yet seen from him, hinting at the greater things we may yet see from him.

One of the unexpected pleasures of this new season of Manon is the changes in casting: Kristen McNally is a most-welcome addition to the ranks of the courtesans, and the tussling between Yuhui Choe and Hikaru Kobayashi was hilarious. And Claire Calvert is brilliant as Lescaut's Mistress, stoically coping with the Drunken Dance and later relishing her solo.

Upcoming performances include Lauren Cuthbertson and Sergei Polunin (8 & 15 November), Rupert Pennefather and Sarah Lamb (17 November), Steven McRae and Roberta Marquez (26 November, matinée) and Marianela Nuñez and Nehemiah Kish (9 & 26 November, evening). We can only hope that Thiago Soares is Lescaut in every single one.

One of the first words which come to mind while watching Marianela Nuñez dance is "magnificent"; that is, of course, unless she's smiling while dancing, in which case certain other words may well come to mind! Her performance in Glen Tetley's Voluntaries in June of this year was one of the most beautiful works of dance I've seen this year, while she was no less impressive in Kenneth MacMillan's Requiem in the recent Royal Ballet triple bill; incidentally, both were tributes to the same person, choreographer John Cranko. By contrast, I have yet to see Thiago Soares perform - I think.

Tonight's In Conversation with Marianela Nuñez and Thiago Soares had sold out before even Friends' Booking opened this spring; fortunately, a small number of tickets were released in the final two days.

Chaired by the Royal Ballet's Director-To-Be Kevin O'Hare, the first topic to be discussed was of course their recent wedding; they have been romantically involved since Thiago joined the Royal Ballet in 2002. Although Thiago proposed after a Sleeping Beauty in 2006, it has taken them until this summer to step back from the limelight and find the time to celebrate their wedding with their family and friends. They married in Buenos Aires, Argentina on 23 July, then travelled to Rio de Janeiro the following week to celebrate with Thiago's family. This has also been the first time in years that they have both been able to take the full five weeks' summer holiday, which meant that they could relax at length before returning to the Royal Ballet for the current season.

The first ballet to be discussed was Diamonds, from Balanchine's Jewels; Kevin O'Hare joked that it was Monica Mason's wedding present to them. Both Marianela and Thiago ("Thianela", as they're known on Twitter) enthused about how much they loved Diamonds, describing it as very natural to perform; the structure makes it very effortless and "delicious" to dance. Thiago's comment was "the guy was just a genius", while Marianela said that Diamonds "lets you feel like a ballerina".

We then explored their early careers, starting with Marianela. As the only daughter with two elder brothers, her mother was so delighted with her arrival that she was dressed head-to-toe in pink, and bundled off to general dance classes at age 3. At age 6, she decided that she wanted to focus exclusively on ballet - admitting that even as a child she was bossy, at which the audience erupted in laughter. She then talked about her life in the Teatro Colón Ballet School, which she entered at age 8: her life now consisted of ballet classes from 8am to 12pm then 7 to 10pm, not getting to bed until 1am daily; in between, she commuted to and from home, 45 minutes away, and continued with her schoolwork. At 14, she became the youngest dancer in the Teatro Colón, performing both corps and larger roles.

By the age of 12, she knew that she wanted to leave Argentina, as this would be necessary to further her career; at 15, she was urged to come to the UK, as this would give her the chance to grow as an artist. By way of auditioning, she took class with the Royal Ballet for a week, culminating in a solo in the final class, which was watched by Anthony Dowell dressed as Carabosse. Due to her age, however, she wouldn't be able to obtain a work permit, so she entered the Royal Ballet School for a year prior to joining the company; this year gave her the opportunity to adapt to her new country, learn the language, and focus on her dance training.

"By comparison", Kevin O'Hare said, "Thiago was on the beach". Thiago's brother was in a hip-hop dance group while he was growing up; wanting to be like his brother, he joined the group at age 12. But he also wanted to join the circus, so he enrolled in the local circus school. He discovered that he was very interested in everything to do with theatre, and especially acrobatics, but he felt that his heart wasn't in it, and he missed his hip-hop group.

At 14, his hip-hop choreographer suggested Thiago enrol in dance training, saying that he could see Thiago as a professional dancer. By that point, he had only ever seen ballet on TV, and was about to undertake jazz, contemporary dance and ballet classes for the first time. His teacher persuaded him to take daily ballet classes, and he soon started to love it, discovering that he was good at it. And of course, he loved the attention! He joined the Rio de Janeiro Municipal Theatre Ballet but after winning a gold medal at the Moscow International Ballet Competition, he joined the Kirov Ballet. Although this was a great opportunity for him, working with good teachers, and learning the choreography of leading roles - as he was frequently on standby for rehearsals when the male principal dancer was absent - his peers back in Brazil urged him to look elsewhere as this wasn't really viable for a long-term career. He joined the Royal Ballet a few months later.

One of Thiago's regular partners is Roberta Marquez, who he knew from his early days; there is some story about them performing Don Quixote together in a supermarket's garage!

Kevin O'Hare noticed that no Ashton ballets had been selected for this evening's discussion; Marianela talked about how much she loved Ashton's work, especially the musicality of his work and how he uses the upper body. She admitted that she'd been worried that she would be pigeonholed doing technical ballets only, and she has loved exploring becoming different characters in each ballet.

The final question of the evening wasn't a question as such, but more a tribute to Marianela's smile. Oh, that smile...........

Five years ago, I took a good friend to see his first ever dance show. It was ironINC's 2007 Resolution! performance at The Place; the opening piece of the night consisted of a woman jumping up and down, then running around the stage. He was baffled, concerned that he'd somehow missed some subtext, synopsis or key information.

This is much how I felt on watching Wayne McGregor's Limen today. Sadly, the experience was hampered by little to none of Limen actually being visible in the cheap side seats, and instead resulted in a lengthy, largely uninterrupted meditation on the empty stage of the Royal Opera House.

Perhaps because to the east of us, the Merce Cunningham Dance Company was staging its last ever performance in London, Limen appeared to be Cunninghamesque in its creation: the choreography was even more abstract than usual, with seemingly random duets and solos occuring in the space, however at times, similar movements would be performed by a nearby pair, but differently. Also Cunninghamesque was the placing of the movement along the sides and at the back, hence the lack of visibility for us lesser mortals sitting on the side.

The highlight of Limen was of course the duet between Eric Underwood and Sarah Lamb, which proved that when you strip away all the affectations from McGregor's choreograhy, you can find moments of beauty.

The second piece in today's triple bill was Marguerite & Armand, which was choreographed by Ashton in 1963 as a vehicle for Margot Fonteyn's and Rudolf Nureyev's new partnership; he later decreed that it should never be performed by anyone else, but it was revived in 2000 for Nureyev's protegée Sylvie Guillem and Nicolas Le Riche, and more recently by Tamara Rojo and Federico Bonelli. The original version, narrated by Margot Fonteyn, was recently screened by BBC4 as part of a weekend of dance programming.

Marguerite & Armand is based on Dumas' play "La Dame aux camélias" about a courtesan who Dumas fell in love with before her death from consumption at age 23.

The piece opened with Marguerite on her deathbed, hallucinating the presence of Armand before reminiscing about their relationship from when they first met, the development of their relationship despite his father banning her from seeing him, concluding with Armand's fury at discovering that she had returned to being a courtesan. In the present day, or at least in 1852, we saw Armand return to the dying Marguerite for one last ecstatic duet.

Tamara Rojo and Sergei Polunin were perfectly cast in their roles, wholly inhabiting their characters in a way which we had not seen in the previous Guillem/Le Riche casting. We could easily see Tamara Rojo as a younger Fonteyn, with the same warmth and vivacity we would expect from her, while it was all too easy to imagine Sergei channelling Nureyev, performing with similar bearing, passion and fire.

While this is hardly Ashton's finest choreography, it's filled with dramatic passionate duets, and is a must for Sergei Polunin fans!

The evening concluded with Macmillan's Requiem, a tribute to choreographer and friend John Cranko on his sudden death in 1973; in the closing triple bill of the Royal Ballet's previous season, we saw Glen Tetley's own tribute to Cranko, Voluntaries, which was exquisitely performed by Marianela Nuñez.

Requiem was performed to Fauré's Requiem, accompanied by a choir which was beautifully led by Anna Devin (soprano) and Daniel Grice (baritone). The piece was imbued with a solemn funereal feel, with ritualised movement, slow deliberate duets and many friezes throughout. There was also raw unballetic movement, evocative of the animalistic Rite of Spring, also choreographed by Macmillan.

The three main roles were the Everyman (Carlos Acosta), the chief female mourner (Marianela Nuñez) and the Goddess/white-clad woman (Leanne Benjamin), with Leanne beautifully partnered by Rupert Pennefather. Each were stunning to watch, from Carlos Acosta's tortured, anguish-filled solo to the effortlessly fluid duet between Pennefather and Leanne. And as for Nuñez - well, she completely stole the show!

Definitely worth going just for Requiem, and Marguerite & Armand, but Limen was very disappointing. And as for the men's wigs in Marguerite & Armand..... !

The Linbury Studio Theatre is buzzing, and Edward Watson hasn’t even begun to take his insect form yet (excuse the pun). The audience seat themselves in and around either side of a pure white floor and two walls, and are immediately invited to enter into the hygienic world of the Samsa family. We are quickly informed of this family’s fetish mannerisms as son Gregor obsessively checks the clock, tensely lying in bed, whilst next door daughter Grete (Laura Day) happily does her homework in the company of her careful mother (Nina Goldman) and out of work father (Anton Skrzypiciel). And many of the audience are still yet to take their seats, stepping straight into the experience which interprets Franz Kafka’s 1915 novella.

As the room settles we are introduced to the daily routine of Gregor, the travelling salesman, in which it must be noted that the set is used exquisitely. His journey is repeated several times, and the channel that separates the audience and performance area either side is used to symbolize Gregor’s outside location. We picture the image of a train as smoke billows from a far end and an enthusiastic ‘trolley dolly’ persona grows amusing with repetition. The recurrence of these day to day patterns allows certain connections, particularly with Gregor and his sister, to be recognised. Oddly quirky music accompanies the unfolding narrative, summing up the slightly disturbing quality that depicts this family. Frank Moon is evidently in sync with the choreographer’s artistic notions, providing a very fitting soundtrack throughout.

Arthur Pita has cleverly choreographed this narrative which follows the troubles and woes of a family whose son has awoken as an insect, consequently breaking down the support he once provided for his family, forcing his father to go back to work and find lodgers. The movement content is highly relatable to each character and their story. For example, Ed’s astonishing physical ability puts any insect to shame as his limbs intertwine in a curious fashion, whilst his ballet enthusiastic sister’s movement vocabulary consists of that form. This is prominent throughout the literal pedestrian actions, using particular styles when necessary. It works beautifully as Grete, being the only one impassioned to work past the thrown up slime to help her older brother, portrays their connection through a frustrated ballet practise sequence which possesses an insect like quality, poisoning her aesthetics.

Funnily enough, as a piece of dance I no longer desired to question the movement itself almost instantly, it is all wonderful and it is all vital. It is the piece as a whole, a queer yet extraordinary theatrical experience that captures the soul. And this is what happens when brilliant artists such as Arthur permit dance and theatre to take their vows and join in holy matrimony. Dance theatre rarely fails to produce such magical ordeals, and The Metamorphosis is without a doubt one of those inspirational pieces... with the help of a lot of goo. The narrative is clear with Arthur’s contemporary twists despite a rich and in depth essence applied to all aspects and theatrics of the piece. It sounds incredibly obvious, but we are told a story through dance. However, due to being told it through Arthur’s remarkable vision, we abruptly realise just how wonderful it is to encounter.

The acting essentially melts into the movement, and is thankfully stunning by every last performer. To resist initially crediting Laura Day would be a crying shame due to such an astonishing performance from this young lady, who is in her graduating year at the Royal Ballet School. Not only was her acting (and singing!) almost perfect, her technical skills as a ballet dancer were to die for. She is a name I urge others to remember as there is an exciting future awaiting her; unashamedly I was thoroughly mesmerised by her performance. But what delighted myself in particular, was the creative beauty that Laura and the other classically trained cast members produced. I could not, and would not like to imagine anyone else taking on Ed’s role. The phrase ‘star quality’ could not be applied more, and let’s face it, you’d have to be a star to not only spew treacle so effectively, but to execute such fascinating movement swimming in utter slime; strangely inspiring. Both Nina Goldman and Anton Skrzypiciel gave their roles such honest attention which I couldn’t bear to forget in a hurry, dueting in a touching yet surreal manner with their children. Whilst Greig Cooke and Joe Walkling were efficient naturals, whether that be an angry clerk, a conventional train conductor, or (on the other end of the scale) scaring the living daylights out of the audience as nightmare worthy insects. I was thrilled to discover that former Candoco Dance Company member Bettina Carpi was cast in this piece, and it was once again an absolute pleasure enduring such a phenomenal presence on stage. Similarly with other performances she gives, she captured the creative essence of Arthur’s piece brilliantly.

The Metamorphosis seemed to have everything, yet remains so unique. Embodying such distinctive style, we even pick up the most detailed aspects like that of the play’s Freudian attributes. Quite a tragic yet disturbing tale, I expected it to go of either two ways; a startling random display, or a character filled narrative. Impressively, it went both. Vomit-worthy in a good way and a spectacular artistic mess that doesn’t deserve to be missed. All hail dance theatre, all hail Arthur Pita!