Boris Godunov (English National Opera)

The English National Opera's new production of Mussorgsky's 7 scene "Boris Godunov" runs for more than two hours without interval. It's a fairly soul destroying one hundred and forty minutes of unrelenting gloom and misery. Not without it's merits: it's a tidy production, well played and with some decent singing, I just left feeling not rejuvenated and uplifted but a bit depressed.

The staging is deceptively basic but clever lighting and small changes evoke a variety of locations. The production sets the entire production in a large shed with curious dimensions, the whole room appearing to be tilted on it's side. The opening image of haggard bodies scattered over the earthy ground is instantly scene setting, but it's the first of a series of miserable situations that never stop coming. Even the regal scenes take place in these ultra bleak settings. Some simple changes instantly transport the audience to a different environment but none feel anything other than grubby, dirty and depressing. The chorus work is superb, the repressed underclasses brought incredibly to life. Their movement is well done feeling natural without distracting from the principals.

The singing is largely pretty strong although there's something of a whole at the centre. Peter Rose, in the title role, has a mammoth frame but what eminates from it is somewhat less mammoth. He sings cleanly but without any real impact. In places he struggled to be heard over the marvellous orchestral playing and his acting was thin at best. This seven scene version focuses heavily on Godunov, especially towards the conclusion, and Rose simply wasn't strong enough to carry the show. The surrounding performances were much more impressive. Brindley Sherratt makes an early impression as Pimen and his return as the piece winds to a close is just the shot in the arm the production needs, injecting some well needed emotion. John Graham-Hall sounded marvellous as the slimey Shuisky, an ambiguous character whose shifting allegiances felt far more believable than the one dimensional fervour of Rose. Robert Murray started rather meakly but his bell like voice grew steadily and he conjured some real pathos for his suffering simpleton. The women take much more of a backseat role in this opera but Anna Grevelius does well in the trouser role of Fyodor and Yvonne Howard makes a great deal from her single scene.

Boris Godunov is never going to be a happy tale but Tim Albery does little to alleviate the misery and running without interval I left the theatre impressed but feeling like I'd just been mentally bludgeoned. The orchestra are on particularly fine form under Edward Gardner and Mussorsky's orchestral music borders on the truly sublime. The only uplifting elements of this production come from the stirring music, what appears on stage is heavy and bleak. Maybe that was the Albery's intention and he certainly succeeds if that was his aim. With a stronger central figure all this doom and gloom might just work, but unfortunately the whole evening despite some serious merits just feels a bit miserable.

The Cripple of Inishmaan (Druid)

Martin McDonagh is my favourite purveyor of nasty theatre (and now film). His play "The Pillowman" still ranks as both one of my favourite and most traumatising theatre experiences of my life. If only all David Tennant fans could have seen him in that, they might view him slightly differently. "The Cripple of Inishmaan" isn't as instantly compelling as that show was but it's no damp squib either.

The script is a little episodic with each scene somewhat detached and Garry Hynes' production doesn't help matters with overly slow scene changes. There are two fairly solid sets, an evocative corner shop and a vaguer open area, but the regular shift between the two took too long, only the tremendous music of Colin Towns preventing the evening flagging completely. The production attempts a couple of overtly theatrical moments but none come off overly well, save the final silhouette of the cripple which is hugely moving. However, McDonagh's dialogue could survive almost anything if performed properly and here the production serves him well. He's an inherently Irish playwright with his heightened but earthy language, and there can't be many better companies than Druid for delivering it.

Aaron Monaghan was so impressively crippled that it wasn't until the curtain call that I was entirely sure he didn't actually have a disability. He nailed the rhythms of the dialogue and achieved a humanity from a fairly extreme role. David Pearse was the seriously unpleasant Johnnypateenmike (a fine name), yet he managed to convey early on some of the kind soul that would reveal itself towards the conclusion. Andrew Connolly's Babbybobby was decent and, initially at least, warm but his sudden violence didn't quite ring true. McDonagh creates characters who'd kill over the slightest thing, a childlike, unthinking quality but I still couldn't reconcile Babbybobby's final actions with his early kindness. A fault of the play or the actor? I'd be hard pushed to judge. Kerry Cordon's foul mouthed Helen gets plenty of laughs and she handled the shift of tone towards the end beautifully.

This isn't McDonagh's finest work but it's still a cracker of a play. It meanders, episodically, for the first Act but really steps up a gear in the second. Few playwrights can shock like McDonagh and despite the low beating/death count (by his standards) this has moments that are as potent as anything he's written. A fantastic cast are let down a little by the stagnant production but when the final scene whirrs into life, little in the theatre is ever as powerful.

Royal Ballet Triple Bill (Voluntaries/The Lesson/Infra)

After the rather dull first triple bill of the season the Royal Ballet have come bounding back with a bill that's a breath of fresh air. The most exciting element on paper is the new work, "Intra", by Wayne McGregor, the company's resident choreographer. After his startling "Chroma" when he was appointed he hasn't produced anything of any real significance so a lot is riding on this. Thankfully "Infra" is a goodie. His much heralded collaboration with Julian Opie is a big flop but once you ignore his monstrosity above the stage, the dancing is more than effective.

The opening piece "Voluntaries" could have been danced better but it's a beautiful piece, oozing conflicted emotion and a sense of the new. The backcloth is a stunning pointillist sphere, that evokes both a negative end of the world feel and an uplifting sense that something better might follow. The choreography is packed with massive lifts but it's the quiet moments that really make an impact, the silent opening image carrying an almost biblical feel. The vast range of difficult lifts were on the whole handled pretty well but moments lacked precision and a couple went completely awry. Leanne Benjamin was her usual radiant self but her work with Federico Bonelli was less consistant with a couple of partnering hitches. It's a tough piece for the central couple and they were fairly solid, it just didn't have the usual polish. The secondary men, Sergei Polunin and Thiago Soares, were fairly impeccable although Polunin's dancing is a step above Soares (despite their respective ranks), he appears to float across the floor with effortless movements.  A lovely company piece as well, with solid performances all round, the sloppy moments paled in comparison to the overall impression.

"The Lesson" is an absolute cracker of a work. A three-hander based on a play by Ionesco, it tells the tale of a Ballet teacher murdering his people. Edward Watson is king amongst dancers when it comes to deranged characters and he takes to the part of the teacher creepily well. His dancing is solid if not exceptional but he embodies the role so fully, I just couldn't take my eyes off him. Yuhui Choe played the doomed pupil and she too acted her heart out, displaying the young girl's youthful insouciance. Everything she does on stage is gorgeous, she has possibly the loveliest arms in the company and her crisp, almost doll like, dancing becomes more and more appropriate as Watson takes hold of her. The third, rather peculiar role is that of the practice pianist, a character who tries to stop the teacher's murders (the implication is that this is one of many) but who is ultimately complicit in them all. Elizabeth McGorian is a seasoned character actor and does well here, conjuring a Roald Dahl-esque crone. It's a compelling work, very different from the rest of the bill, that offers one of the nastiest moments you'll ever catch on stage.

Saving the big work till last, "Infra" closes the bill in grand style. Whilst McGregor's dance vocabulary strays dangerously close to the unattractive (the detached head movements remind me of chicken), somehow everything he throws at the stage is worth watching. The music by Max Richter isn't as rambunctiously exciting as Talbot's score for "Chroma", but it offers up a far more emotional strand in the dance. The costumes don't differ much from standard contemporary ballet standards with skimpy t-shirts and shorts all round (except for Eric Underwood who had very little on at all) but they are servicable enough. Top marks to Lucy Carter's lighting which manages to be hugely atmospheric whilst still allowing the audience to actually see the dancers (a depressingly rare experience). The Julian Opie set however is both a complete damp squib and much worse a terrible distraction. A wide screen with nondescript figures walking across it. I can understand that it ties into the whole "Infra" subtext with the dancers portraying the actual people below the ciphers on the sidewalk, but this is a dance piece and being distracted by flashing lights is not ideal. Much better would be to raise the screen by about fifteen metres or so, into the flytower, then the audience wouldn't be able to see it (or just show it for the first two minutes and then raise it, if they're really so keen on keeping it). Frankly, the screen just felt a bit cheap and I shudder to think what this "collaboration" has cost the Royal Ballet. Compared with the impressive visuals from Christopher Wheeldon last season, this looks very poor.

The dancing is superb. Paul Kay doesn't appear to have any bones for the first five minutes, which looks incredible if not entirely attractive. Several Pas de Deux come off brilliantly, the grappling of Underwood and Melissa Hamilton (who may have the loveliest legs in the company, at least while Sarah Lamb is injured) wonderfully effective. Underwood manages yet more brilliance in a superb solo later in the piece. Remarkably, Watson manages another impressive turn here as well although he didn't stray much from his standard misery. Lauren Cuthbertson takes strongly to McGregor's style and is the centrepiece of the most effective moment in the piece, when suddenly the stage is swamped by people just walking by as Cuthbertson collapses on the ground. The image has an elegance that I've never seen in any of McGregor's other work (it's more reminiscent of Wheeldon's work) and it's a moment of absolute beauty.

Whilst the three works in this programme aren't terribly well linked they still built to produce a really lovely programme that was tinged with sadness through but always with a hint of something better on the way (except maybe "The Lesson" which is just horrible). Strong dancing from the entire company with some fantastic opportunities for the principals to show off. A vintage programme. Let's just hope they ditch the damn Opie screen before the first revival of "Infra" (they won't).

Elektra (Royal Opera)

To my mind, "Elektra" falls under the category of Opera that is near unscrewupable (with solid singers that is). Assuming you've got the singers it doesn't matter what crap the director throws at the stage, the piece still stands up as a masterpiece. The Royal Opera's first revival of Charles Edwards confused production demonstrates this in spades. Susan Bullock powers out the kind of performance that reminds me why I love Opera in the first place.

The production has an interesting feel that waivers from anachronistic to ancient/modern clash. The mix of classical architecture with imposing modern walls sets the scene well but the look is never developed and it's hard to relate it to the work. This slightly confused feel drags through the narrative which is clouded by the design rather than enhanced. A few nice images were conjured through lighting but curiously whilst the staging was on the whole rather elliptical, the use of light was overly explicit. Do we really need the shadow of Agamemnon literally hanging over the stage? The set overly cramps the action into the front third of the stage and it's only at the startling finale that the full stage comes into use. The mask that finishes off Elektra is a stunning piece of design, the blood genuinely shocking me.

Whatever I thought of the staging, with this casting it didn't much matter. Susan Bullock takes the title by the scruff of the neck and never lets go. A tour de force of singing paired with a calculated acting performance. Her initially world weariness gradually crescendoing to out and out madness. Her potent force is well balanced by the heart warming voice of Anne Schwanewilms whose first meeting with Elektra is tinged with tenderness, despite her various strifes. Jane Henschel's Klytemnestra leans towards grotesquery but thankfully her full voice is nothing short of wonderous. She managed to make the grandiose shrieking one of the most striking moments in the piece. Johan Reuter, initially hampered by a rather ungainly entrance (this bit's not even confused, it's just bad), lends a steering hand to the production navigating the potentially histrionic tail end of the piece a certain solidity. He doesn't flinch vocally either. The smaller roles are all sumptuously filled, Eri Nakamura (a Jette Young Artist) standing out as the fifth maid. The much hyped Alfie Boe should be commended for trying to stay with actual Opera rather than just flogging CDs but he doesn't get the chance to make any impact in his brief appearance.

With Mark Elder in the pit and the Royal Opera Orchestra swelled to gargantuan size, the playing was simply majestic. It wasn't all full blast though with Elder bringing out the quiet, pensive moments just as much as the full whack horror. A pity the production is so difficult to follow thematically as this is divine casting of a truly brilliant work. The finale rivals even the Ring Cycle for sheer excitement and verve. Shut your eyes and this is virtually flawless.

Romeo & Juliet, On Motifs of Shakespeare (Mark Morris Dance Group)

Mark Morris' new "Romeo and Juliet" is most significant because it makes the rather worthy claim to be restoring the work to how Prokofiev wanted it. That's all well and good, but one might argue that Lavrovsky was entirely right when he made the cuts that have stayed with the work ever since. Ballet scores have never been fixed entities (nor were Operas in the earlier periods), sections regularly cut and pasted for the sake of dancers or dramatic intent. This "original" score has no balcony scene (the music is instead used in the daft happy ending) and a truly silly gift presentation scene that wouldn't look out of place in Act II of the Nutcracker.

Morris' new choreography is consistantly attractive, the market scenes are brisk and vibrant if a little heavy on jumps and spins, but dramatic this work is not. Romeo hardly appears for the first two thirds, without the balcony scene (there's a much shorter equivalent) and a poorly staged first meeting the central couple don't become much of a couple till Act III by which point my interest had largely passed and many in the audience seemed to have already left. After the truly unnecessary nudity (fills time I guess) the couple have a sweet pas de deux but by then it's too little too late. The extra music (about twenty minutes) makes it a very long afternoon, clocking in at nearly three hours, and attractive steps don't sustain what should be a dramatic work. The finale, which Morris has sensibly made more of an apotheosis than a waltz into the sunset, makes something of a mockery of the whole Romeo and Juliet story but in the context of the rest of the piece it kind of works. Light, bright and pretty but emotionally defunct.

Some of Morris' character changes don't make a great deal of sense. The nurse has been made much younger which shifts her dynamic with Juliet away from something dramatically effective. Her music is also more sedate than the prancy Morris steps would suggest. The powerful Prince of Verona has an effective entry in Act I but is then brought back as a camp, spirit fingers obsessed, joker which somewhat negates his impact. Paris, always a difficult character, has been made a pompous buffoon flouncing about in a cape and generally being a figure of fun. The scene where he presents gifts to a "dying" Juliet amounts to one of the silliest scenes I've ever come across (Lavrovsky was doing Prokofiev a favour when he omitted this). The casting of Mercutio and Tybalt as trouser roles is a curious one. Both women dance well but inevitably it removes some of the masculine aggression that drives the pair to fight. All these changes build to a piece that feels stripped of everything that makes Romeo and Juliet the classic that it is. Morris' choreography is seldom dull and always attractive but when you struggle to care for the characters it all amounts to very little.

The dancing is on the whole pretty strong. Rita Donahue dances convincingly as Juliet, coming closest of anyone to actually producing some emotion. David Leventhal does less well as Romeo although a lot of that boils down to how limited his choreography is (he doesn't actually have much stage time). For some curious reason the Friar, danced by John Heginbotham, is a more rounded character than Romeo, the scene where he gives Juliet the poison, one of the highlights of the piece. The trousers roles are well danced by Amber Darragh and Julie Worder, although I still can't work out why they were played by women at all.

It's a sleekly designed production, with some solid dancing and some decent if less than exceptional (one solo went badly awry) playing from the London Symphony Orchestra. Whilst this original score was weaker to my mind than the more commonly used one, the new orchestrations are notably thinner in places which produced a lovely, softer feel to some sections. It's Mark Morris' steps that are the weak link. There are some strong sections, the crowd scenes, but it amounts to a terrible "Romeo and Juliet". The original ending is a pointless addition which only adds to the feeling that whilst an interesting novelty, this version is little more than a museum piece, significant only for offering something thought long ago lost.

Impressing the Czar (Royal Ballet of Flanders)

William Forsythe is one of the choreographers whose work I can never quite my head around and yet love all the same. "Impressing the Czar" is so completely bonkers it really shouldn't work on any level yet it actually succeeds on many. The central abstract section "In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated" is a mainstay of many companies' repertory and the pas de deux from it often wheeled out at galas but this was the first time I've ever come across it in situ.

Act I, Potemkin's Signature, is a bizarre concoction of styles: choreographically, musically and in design. Every element exists somewhat independantly of the others with period costumes attached to balanchine style footwork whilst the tight lycra contemporary costumed dancers hacked their way through some pastiche classical mime. Much of the meaning, I have no doubt, flew right over my head yet there's something consitantly enthralling about Forsythe's steps that even when completely bamboozled, I was never bored. Helen Pickett speaks as well as dances, her voiceover often referring to a Mr Pnut (Peanut) who is something of an absent figure and straying into modern references to Sarah Palin and the like. None of this made a great deal of sense but it didn't much matter, the beauty of this work is that you can string your own stories together. I found the references to the many periods of dance fascinating although I'm sure some prefered the art that litters the stage.

Act II, "In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated", exists for me in the purely abstract. I found it difficult to connect this piece to the prior Act and yet somehow it didn't feel out of place following. To my mind this might be the most wonderful abstract ballet ever produced, the hyper-classical style lending itself to some awesome images and constantly riveting movement. The Royal Ballet of Flanders don't have any Zhakarovas in their ranks so the mammoth extensions and sharp angles that one usually sees weren't present but I suspect this is much closer to what Forsythe envisioned. It wasn't the most clean of performances with a few errors and the big pas de deux in particular, danced by Geneviève Van Quaquebeke and Howard Quintero, was a little messy yet somehow it was everybit as compelling as when danced by finer technicians. The music by Thom Willems is the crowning glory and perfect example of what a ballet score can be.

Act III is the weak point of the ballet. For the first time the crazy "story", if you can call it that, overtakes the dance and dominates. The sheer speed of Helen Pickett is impressive but the auction sequence is long and it's a one idea Act about the commercialisation of art. It also feels a little dated which is a pity, as nothing else in the ballet feels anything other than brand new.

Act IV is an absolute showstopper. If you can imagine "The Rite of Spring" blended with "St Trinians", this is pretty much what you'd get. The entire company, male and female, dressed as English school girls hurtle around the stage like their lives depend upon it. One questions why this was never taken up as a gala party piece for one of the big companies. It's an absolute hoot. Why this is all going on, I will never know, but I don't really think that's the point, just go with the flow and the spectacle is hard to resist.

If Forsythe's aim was really to chronicle the rise and fall of Western art, then I'm not really sure how well he's succeeded. If it was to produce an inventive, witty and engaging piece of work then this is a six hit. Act III could do with a little trimming but otherwise this a crazy, exciting work that deserves to be seen by a much wider audience.

Hamlet (The Factory)

I've managed to fail to see The Factory's "Hamlet" for a good while. They're a sort of underground theatre company announcing where they'll play about a week (tops) before they perform. I finally acquired a ticket for their very last UK gig before they go off to Hungary. An audience of forty and a cast of about twenty, it was an intimate affair starting in the basement of a pub near the Barbican called "The Slaughtered Lamb". I'm going to struggle to describe the actual show, it was one of the bizarrest (and coolest) shows I've come across in awhile (Masque of the Red Death is the last I can think of).

The cast all know multiple parts and don't know which role they'll be taking until a few rounds of audience rock, paper, scissors. They have no initial directions, props, costumes or anything standardly considered to be part of preparing a performance. Instead they literally make it up as they go along using props provided by the audience and generally just muck around in the space given. As you can imagine, a classic Hamlet this does not make, but a stunningly creative one it does.

Act I was performed loosely speaking with regular characters and in the relatively regular space of the basement of a pub. The audience sat around and mostly watched like a regular audience. This was the first time I've ever seen the ghost carry a mini Oscar award and the nightwatch use a stuffed giraffe as a periscope but it was otherwise fairly standard (relative to the next four Acts anyway). Act II they decided we'd all move upstairs to the main pub. This was filled with regular punters who presumably had no wish to watch Act II of Hamlet but that was their problem I suppose. For this Act the audience were instructed to pretend not to be watching the play. An unusual request I'm sure you'll agree but a novel one (although I'd probably get annoyed if I was regularly asked not to watch a show I'd paid to see). The cast used the new larger space brilliantly and didn't stop at just inside, staging several scenes shouting from just outside the pub.

If the pub wasn't interesting enough Act III moved the audience outside (it was freezing) for some more impromptu staging. Top spontaneous idea of the evening goes to the actor playing Claudius who managed to randomly approach an apartment block, ring a random number and start barking Shakespeare down the intercom. Polonius' death was staged in a backalley which was superbly effective and more than a little creepy. Acts IV and V had us returning to the basement, albeit with IV performed entirely as if none of the characters gave a damn about what happened (which wasn't overly effective) and V staged in a tiny cubby hole in the wall to hysterical effect. The audience were told to hoot and holler for a character and the whole play descended into a sort of meaningful punch and judy. Audience participation awards must go to the gentleman who sided with Laertes and virtually managed to introduce himself into the action.

A coherent and meaningful Hamlet this really wasn't, but as an exploration of story telling it was never less than revelatory, brilliant fun to boot. Hopefully the company will get going again after they return from Hungary because you could see this production twenty times and never see anything like the same show twice. Everything I described above will never occur again, every performance is totally different. The spontaneous nature means some things work and some don't, but the sheer excitment of seeing something produced in front of your eyes is magical and I'd encourage anyone who gets the chance to go and see The Factory's "Hamlet".

For You (Music | Theatre | Wales)

Seldom is a new Opera hyped on the back of its librettist but that seems to have been the case here. Ian McEwan's name has been splashed all over the place with little thought for the poor composer Michael Berkeley. Ultimately whatever is hyped it's all about the end result and it's a fairly strong new Opera with an above average libretto.

Berkeley's music is strongest when nobody is singing. His orchestral writing is in places majestic. His solo arias also hit some high points. Maria's obsessive passage about Charles actually manages to make a creepy situation seem curiously moving, I'd have to describe that moment almost as Opera at it's most effective (sadly not many more moments like this). What doesn't work so well are the ensembles which shift into shouting matches especially the end of Act I. McEwan's drawing room tragedy isn't a particularly original one and he's lucky Berkeley's music is so characterful as it transforms the rudimentary morality into something much stronger. The language is attractive, bordering on verse, and is nicely terse (although the simple story still stretches for nearly two and a half hours).

The creative team have assembled a crack team of singers headed by the mighty Alan Opie. He gives a performance that's about much more than just singing the right notes, he draws pathos from this rather nasty character enhancing the relationships and making us feel that nothing is as black and white as we might initially think. That's not to say his voice is bad, in fact it's a tour de force, with booming notes matched by perfect diction (the surtitles are largely surplus to requirements). Allison Cook slinks around the stage like a demonic hound just waiting to bite which is perhaps slightly excessive but her singing is beautiful, balancing her crazed actions by showing the tumult of her personality. Helen Williams lends Antonia an almost Wangerian potency, although her relationship with Jeremy Huw Williams' doctor felt a little forced, merely a method for ensuring no character is blameless. Chistopher Lemmings' sang very well, making a greta deal from his smaller part, but he over emoted with his arms which took away from the effect of his singing. Rachel Nicholls is no slouch vocally but her part is a means to an end and she doesn't make a great deal of impact.

The production by Michael McCarthy, with vertical sliding boards, is initially quite interesting but it's fairly basic and doesn't sustain well. Efficient but not overly effective. The orchestra under Michael Rafferty do great work, producing a massive stirring sound from only fourteen players. The piece is very well cast with Alan Opie dominating superbly. "For You" has some superb sections but doesn't tie together all that well. Berkeley's music has some awesome moments but his vocally lines were unnecessarily erratic (do the characters really need massive leaps all the time?) and the ensembles were messy. McEwan's much vaunted libretto is better line by line than it is in totality. He attempts to bring Opera closer to life but in doing so he's created something much less believable, I'm more prone to believing in Brunnhilda than Antonia as a real person. As new Opera's go it's about a three out of five, solid but nothing exceptional.

Stravinsky: A Celebration (Birmingham Royal Ballet)

Whilst the Royal Ballet's recent triple bill was so thoroughly by the numbers it was dull, the Birmingham Royal are touring an evening of much more interest. An evening of Stravinsky works juxtaposing the original Fokine "Petrushka" and "The Firebird" with Michael Corder's new "Le Baiser de la fée".

"Petrushka" isn't a work I find terribly appealing. Too much of the movement lies uncomfortably between mime and dance for my own tastes. The plot is thoroughly nonsensical and, despite the heavy emphasis on mime, not told with much clarity. Much hangs on who's performing Petrushka himself and Kosuke Yamamoto didn't do much for me. He had the floppy, puppet-like quality required but I failed to feel for him on any level. Lacking vulnerability, I struggled to connect. Nao Sakuma had a wonderfully blank face which heightened the creepiness of the Ballet but without a desperate Petrushka the piece never really got going emotionally. The crowd scenes were a little cramped on the Sadler's Wells stage but looked really good, some excellent dancing from the street urchins/gypsys. Much of what I've said is entirely subjective, I suspect others connected much more with the story than I did, it's a particularly subjective work, but as a whole the clarity just wasn't there and this felt a bit like a damp squib.

"Le Baiser de la fée" is clearly a difficult ballet to get right, history is littered with failures, but Michael Corder has had a pretty strong stab and has produced an impressive work. The story isn't of much significance but it introduces a wonderful character, The Fairy. Danced by Gaylene Cummerfield, whose precise, edgy dancing absolutely nailed this seductive but ultimately cruel fairy. Whilst the other characters are largely stock figures, the fairy has a truly original feel to her (shades of Odile perhaps). Her sprites in tow she makes for an imposing figure and the final image of her aloft is a striking one. Whilst the magical elements of the ballet really soar, it's the basic romantic ones that fail. Natasha Oughtred dances The Bride very beautifully but her steps are little more than attractive. Alexander Campbell attempts to draw some of the conflict from The Young Man but the choreography lets him down. Corder's "Baiser" is never less than watchable but the human side of the piece is shallow and it really prevented me involving myself in the action, which was a pity as there is much to enjoy in the piece.

The finale of "The Firebird" is a secure classic. As with "Petrushka" it's a blend of mime and dance but strays more to the dance end which interestingly also makes the story clearer. The pas de deux near the start was well danced by Nao Sakuma and Robert Parker, Sakuma delightfully effervescent making full use of her lovely flowing arms. The apple throwing dance that follows falls firmly into the silly prop oeuvre, the corps of girls caught most but every drop looked messy and with so many apples flying a few drops were inevitable. The Royal Ballet Sinfonia under Nicholas Kok came into their own with some majestic playing and as the piece reaches it's mega-excessive tableaux ending all apple complaints go out the window. It's not a piece that tugs at the heart strings but between the infernal dance and the wedding, one can't complain of boredom. It's just so incredibly exciting with solid dancing, gorgeous costumes and effective lighting building to a real high.

Whatever my individual complaints this was a very well programmed triple bill that built to more than the sum of its parts. Corder's new work isn't a total success but I wouldn't be averse to seeing it again, if for no other reason than the quality of the magical elements and a couple of pretty, albeit shallow, solos. "Firebird" is a guaranteed crowd favourite and although "Petrushka" isn't to my tastes it's more than just a museum piece.

Manon (Royal Ballet)

"Manon" is a great ballet. Macmillan created a few brilliant works and this might well be the best of them (although Mayerling probably has more depth). It's the kind of work that rests heavily on its dancers though. Poorly danced and it's a pretty leaden affair (as I discovered in Vienna). Danced well and the work is sensational. Thankfully with a cast of Laura Morera, Federico Bonelli and Ricardo Cervera, this was very good.

I haven't seen a great deal of Morera in the past but she has taken the role of Manon and made it her own. She starts quite innocently and her rapid infatuation with Des Grieux makes beautiful sense. The lure of money still proves too much and Morera captured this horrible, conflicting personality wonderfully. The first Bedroom pas de deux was absolutely enchanting as Manon gives herself to Grieux and that made the sudden breakup all the more heartbreaking. Bonelli is never one to steal the limelight from his leading lady and he gave a thoughtful performance. From his fiendish opening solo this was a technically superb effort, and his partnering is effortless. Ricardo Cervera was perhaps a little too clean cut as the morally ambiguous Lescaut but you couldn't fault his dancing and his comic timing in the drunken dance was superb, rarely have I heard such massive belly laughs at any Ballet, let alone a dark, broody one like "Manon".

Gary Avis put in a very impressive cameo as the Gaoler but otherwise the character roles were all a little lifeless. Christopher Saunders G.M. wasn't nearly nasty enough, lacking impact and generally being a bit nondescript and Jonathan Howells Old Gentleman was hardly noticable at all. Helen Crawford was a replacement as Lescaut's Mistress and did well, especially in partnership with Cervera, although was a little scrappy in places.

"Manon" is a gift of a Ballet, gorgeous sets, costumes and music and with the leads so brilliantly filled this was quite an afternoon. The Royal Ballet weren't firing on all cylinders, the corps were largely good but there were more mistakes than I'd expect, but ultimately Morera's enrapturing performance won the day and her death was truly moving.

Matilde di Shabran (Royal Opera)

"Matilde di Shabran" hasn't been performed at Covent Garden since 1854. As a result it occupies that interesting region where it becomes an absolute must see but for no particular reason beyond novelty. When works aren't seen for long periods there's usually a reason, and with "Matilde" that reason is fairly obvious. Long, badly structured and incoherent. That's not to say there's nothing to enjoy. There are some superb arias and each is impeccably sung by the incredible singers, but different characters seem to come from different Operas and no amount of incredible singing can save what is a flawed work.

The singing is, more or less across the board, incredible. Juan Diego Flórez garnered most of the publicity and he doesn't disappoint. He doesn't have the largest voice, occasionally beaten by the orchestra, but his tone is incredible. He caresses every note like it's the most important thing in the world. This opera has been revived almost entirely to act as a vehicle for him and the part offers up some suitably impressive passages which he handles without flinching. It's Aleksandra Kurzak however who steals the show. In her closing aria she hit some of the pearliest top notes I've ever heard. Rich and refined, if I'd died during one of her arias I'd have died a happy man. She's also the most convincing actor in the cast. It's a tough Opera to balance with weird pantomime like elements juxtaposed with deadly serious moments. There was little Flórez could do to avoid some terrible gurning, but Kurzak at least managed to make something of a part that probably doesn't deserve the effort. Vesselina Kasarova has a supreme voice but her character and style felt bizarrely out of place. Like laying a plush velvet carpet in a circus tent. This wasn't her fault and standing alone she's an incredible vocalist, her duet with Flórez was astonishing. The third female, Enkelejda Shkosa, was similarly impressive in the one-dimensional villain role, not much acting to speak of but some lovely singing. The men were less strong. Carlo Lepore was very solid but didn't make much impact. Marco Vinco was overall pretty good but started inexplicably badly, all over the place until Flórez's first appearance. I've mixed views on Alfonso Antoniozzi. He's a decent comic actor and the brash, buffo passages were excellent but the more lyrical passages didn't escape the gruffness that he applied to the farce. This may have been partly intentional but it ruined the opening of Act II which just became dull because he didn't vary much through his long aria.

The production is hard to judge because I have no frame of reference for the Opera itself but overall it's a pretty duff evening. The stage design is initially striking but striking images are seldom adaptable and this one has to stay interesting for nearly four hours. Unsurprisingly then, it didn't. The twisting staircases provide some novel levels allowing more vertical positioning but it also constrained the production to the front section of the stage leaving a lot of open space at the back. This novelty staging extends to using the stalls as an active acting area. I don't think this added much and I suspect none of it could be seen from the amphitheatre which is frankly criminal. Excluding about a third of your audience is not sensible direction in my book. The tone of the production roughly fits the Opera, so it flip flops from scattergun comedy to deeply serious every couple of minutes. Edoardo appears to belong to an entirely different work to Corradino. The costumes don't help with most characters looking like "Lord of the Rings" extras.

This Opera has been given a showing by the Royal Opera completely to show off Flórez which is hardly the most sensible way to go about programming a season. Thankfully between him, Kurzak and Kasarova there's enough amazing singing to redeem the evening but the pleasures run no deeper than that. The production does little to help the audience through the more than three hours of music (that's without intervals and a first Act of more than two hours). The orchestra are on top form under Carlo Rizzi (who seemed to be conducting without a score which makes the mind boggle), making the overture one of the highlights of the evening (some mighty trombones). I doubt this will be making another appearance at Covent Garden, unless they can find a Flórez equivalent (commercially as well as vocally). It's a silly work that has some top notch music but you've got to fight your way through buckets of recitive and bad jokes to get there. Emotional or thought provoking? Forget it.