All top international ballet companies would be considered incomplete without a handful of George Balanchine’s works in their repertoire. One of the greatest 20th-century dance-makers, his creations have inspired generations of dancers and budding choreographers alike. While he capitalised on his reputation for creating works for ballerinas that showed them at their best, he also made ballets that allowed the leading male protagonist to shine.
The Royal Ballet pays homage to him in its latest triple bill Balanchine: Three Signature Works, part of the Dance Reflections festival sponsored by Van Cleef & Arpels. Each of the pieces displays the richness and diversity of his imagination, his extraordinary ability to grasp the moment and find the heart of the music to express exactly what he wanted. This performance was also significant because it marked the retirement of Patricia Neary who has been staging Balanchine's works for nearly 60 years. In a speech delivered by Kevin O'Hare before curtain up and with the showering of flowers at the close of play, the gratitude and respect shown by the dancers and a very vocal audience must have been heartwarming for Neary.
Sandwiched between two very pure, classical examples of Balanchine's choreography was Prodigal Son. The oldest of the ballets on show in this programme (1929 for the Ballets Russes), and while many of us have grown up watching it, at first glance in 2025, it has an air of eccentricity about it, not least because of Georges Rouault's bold and quirky designs. Using a Prokofiev score, the ballet is based on the biblical parable of the son who seeks freedom and experience, squanders his wealth when he gets in with the wrong crowd and returns home with his tail between his legs.
In the title role, Cesar Corrales got the balance between youthful arrogance and remorse just right. He has a powerful stage presence, a believable hunger for adventure and his exuberance for embracing the fun and the new with his ‘drinking companions’ was the inevitable consequence of misguided naivety. The grotesque images of those companions with their bald heads, clumsy japery and face-pulling, appeared almost comical at times.
Natalia Osipova, great ballerina that she is, looked distinctly uncomfortable as The Siren. Rather than wrap herself seductively around her target like an oily serpent, inveigling her way into his lustful approaches, she appeared rather brittle and stand-offish. The end of the ballet, however, when the Son returns home on his knees, broken and disillusioned, is always touching when his father cradles him in his arms, forgiving him his misdemeanours.
Bizet's Symphony in C offers an abundance of thrilling musical opportunities to play with phrasing. With its vast cast of 50 plus dancers, sparkling white tutus, fiendishly difficult steps: no hiding place to disguise any fluffing of pirouettes or shoddy beats, it's a magnificent showcase for a company of The Royal Ballet's calibre. It highlights beautifully the breadth of talent within the ranks too.
All the principals were outstanding but Marianela Nuñez and Reece Clarke excelled for the gracious quality of their port de bras. Nuñez has the ability to make you see steps and hear the music in fresh, interesting ways. Even the way she breathes appears to echo the music, at one moment seamlessly falling back into Clarke's arms, giving the impression that she was moving in slow motion. Joseph Sissens and Leticia Dias, leading the fourth movement, shone for their quicksilver lightness and speed, exquisite footwork and sharp pirouettes.
In spite of the grandeur of Symphony in C, the most impressive performances were in Serenade which opened the programme. Created in 1934, Balanchine was working with students at the time and it was designed specifically to help young dancers develop. While it's not a narrative ballet, there are some subtle threads of meaningful connection. He worked with whoever turned up to rehearsal, sometimes nine students, sometimes 17, someone arrived late, another fell and this was incorporated into the choreography. Although these incidents punctuate Tchaikovsky's score, this is a ballet that ebbs and flows in a swirling mass of ravishing tulle, the epitome of lyricism.
Lauren Cuthbertson as the Waltz Girl glowed, with beautiful, light jetés, she found subtle dynamics in each of her movements. Mayara Magri, replacing an injured Yasmine Naghdi, was pure joy as the Russian Girl, particularly brilliant when airborne and Melissa Hamilton, ideally cast as the Dark Angel (her arabesque line is simply breathtaking) completed the trio of excellent principal women. Ryoichi Hirano and William Bracewell were both noticeably strong partners, though I always think the men draw the short straw in Serenade.
Conducting the tremendous Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, Fayçal Karoui seemed to get the best out of both orchestra and dancers by pushing the tempi a little.
