Whatever the merits of televising Swan Lake, or re-imagining Swan Lake, or having male swans, or swan-themed interactive light installations (all of which we've seen in London in recent weeks), there's nothing quite like the real thing.
Swan Lake is a big, grand ballet; it's cracking drama and emotional truth, and however often it's reworked, however often it's plundered and spoofed, the rigours of the original easily outclass all comers.
That's if it's done properly, of course. On Saturday The Royal Ballet began the first half of a split run of the classic, and, despite quibbles with the 20-year-old production, and gripes with some of the dancing and playing, it was revelatory to return to the original.
Swan Lake belongs to the ballerina, but on Saturday all eyes were on Ivan Putrov. The Ukrainian-born principal had a nasty knee injury at a show-off gala last February and, after a year of enforced inactivity, looked thrilled to be back.
Pre-injury, Putrov was a bit of a sulky pup: a lovely dancer, but one who seemed to take his talents, and the adulation, for granted. On Saturday, there was a new maturity, a seriousness and artistic commitment, and his acting is in a different league.
The last time he danced Swan Lake, his insouciance flattened the story. On Saturday, each step, each gesture carried meaning, every look a guide to motive and feeling. His Prince is, at first, equivocal, but he becomes decisive when he meets Odette. His remorse when he betrays her is palpable.
Putrov's dancing was strong, his spins and lifts gorgeously full strength, although I'd say he was taking the leaps a little gently.
Last, some of the children in Act II weren't pointing their toes. This may seem a harsh criticism of fledgling dancers, but toes matter in ballet.
The Royal Ballet: Swan Lake
Royal Opera House
Floral Street, WC2E 9DD
