Helena

I was very interested to read the Hans Andersen poem - I have just visited his birthplace and museum in Odense in Denmark. I knew he was interested in ballet - he even had lessons at the Danish ballet school in his youth, though I think he was too much of an Ugly Duckling to succeed at it, and had to be a writer in order to become a swan! In Eugene Onegin, the Russian poet Pushkin gives this description of the ballerina Istomina: The house is packed out; scintillating, The boxes; boiling, pit and stalls; The gallery claps - it's bored with waiting - And up the rustling curtain crawls. Then with a half-ethereal splendour, Bound where the magic bow will send her, Istomina, thronged all around By Naiads, one foot on the ground, Twirls the other slowly as she pleases, Then suddenly she's off, and there She's up and flying through the air Like fluff before Aeolian breezes; She'll spin this way and that, and beat Against each other small swift feet. I have an idea that Pushkin is very difficult to translate, but this one, by Charles Johnston, is the best I've seen. Istomina (1799-1848) was a pupil of Didelot, and courted by Pushkin.

I've just seen a brilliant performance of La Traviata by the Ukrainian National Opera of Odessa, who are touring Britain at the moment, brought by Ellen Kent Ballet and Opera International. I approached it with caution, because the Eastern European Chisinau ballet this tireless promoter brings to Britain is not very good, though certainly they deserve an audience. But this company was in an entirely different class, and I was stunned by the whole performance. All the singers were first-rate, especially Larysa Zuenko as Violetta, who could not only sing superbly, but also looked reasonably right and knew how to use the stage, and how to move. Alfredo was Ruslan Zinevych, who acted with passion, had a very Italianate tenor voice, and whose only "fault" was that he is extremely short - though not fat or ugly! Their interaction was most moving (luckily she was little, too). Stanislav Trifanau, as Germont, had a fine presence and a rather more Russian sound. Lots of tears from the audience, and later a tumultuous reception. The orchestra under Vasyl Vasylenko was exemplary, with some ravishing strings playing. The production was very traditional, with beautiful costumes and conventional but pretty sets, which came as a welcome relief after pretentious productions I have seen. I would recommend it to anyone, at any rate with this cast.

I also find the POB retirement rule ludicrous. The first time I saw Elisabeth Platel (in Manchester, in Bayadere) I am fairly sure she was appearing as a guest because she had already retired. She was 40-ish, and the most perfect dancer I had seen for years. It seemed totally absurd to pension her off. Fonteyn herself described her 30s as her "prime years", but I actually thought she was better in her 40s - certainly no worse technically, and with ever-deepening artistry.

I also find the POB retirement rule ludicrous. The first time I saw Elisabeth Platel (in Manchester, in Bayadere) I am fairly sure she was appearing as a guest because she had already retired. She was 40-ish, and the most perfect dancer I had seen for years. It seemed totally absurd to pension her off. Fonteyn herself described her 30s as her "prime years", but I actually thought she was better in her 40s - certainly no worse technically, and with ever-deepening artistry.

The dancer I would most like to have met is Karsavina, though I can't imagine what I would say to her. It would be interesting to hear her opinions of Royal Ballet dancers, though I know she did say things like "The legend of Nijinsky lives on in Nureyev". She was very articulate and intelligent, so would be rewarding to talk to. I knew a music critic (now dead) who did meet her, when doing some research on Stravinsky. This is when she was quite old. He went to her flat in London, which was up a flight of stairs. He thought manners demanded that she should go first up the stairs, after she came down to open the door, but she insisted that he went first. She said, "I don't want you to see the wreck of the Firebird." Such a poignant story.

Two early works: Catillon (Balanchine) and Les Catineurs (Ashton). Then there are Purrquita and Le Clawsaire. Ouch!

Oh, difficult! I want all of them, but I think I'll go for St Petersburg, because I've read more about that time than any of the others, and I want to see how much of what I've read is true.

Oh, difficult! I want all of them, but I think I'll go for St Petersburg, because I've read more about that time than any of the others, and I want to see how much of what I've read is true.

Erik Bruhn and Roland Petit also had parts in the film - just dancing, I think. But as a portrait of Andersen, it was really bad.

I quite like Vain Precautions, but much prefer it left in French - some things you just can't translate. For those who don't know, Remembrance of Things Past is a quotation from Shakespeare (Sonnet 30): When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past That is untranslatable, too.

Of course, it is obvious that it's impossible to compare them, but I have to come in on anything to do with Fonteyn, whom I saw many times. Naturally, I didn't see Pavlova, though my mother did, but I've seen what everyone else has seen. My impression is that Pavlova was a dancer of air and fire, spiritual rather than human in the impression she made, and I always think that Markova, whom I did see, must have been very like her. She certainly looked rather like her. Fonteyn, on the other hand, was very human - reserved perhaps in temperament (though not all that reserved, I suspect), but able to express human feelings on stage to a remarkable degree. It's interesting that Arnold Haskell (English ballet critic a long time ago) wrote of Fonteyn's Giselle in a book published in 1938, when Fonteyn was still a teenager, that "She more nearly resembles Pavlova than any other dancer I have seen in making one forget the mechanics of the ballerina". I find that a fascinating comment, especially from a man who was very unwilling to admit that anyone who wasn't Russian could dance. You have to remember, though, that almost all Fonteyn's early training was by exiled Russian teachers (including Preobajenska), so she and Pavlova came out of a more similar background than one might think. Part of Pavlova's huge influence came from the fact that she took ballet to so many places where it had never been seen - including, of course, Peru where the 13 year old Ashton saw her, as katharine says. (At least, I don't think ballet had been seen there - certainly not much.) Imagine the shock of seeing ballet for the first time - no films, no television to prepare you - and seeing it in the form of Pavlova! No wonder she was influential. Technique - well, most of the people who decry either Fonteyn's or Pavlova's technique are actually talking about virtuosity, the ability to leap very high or do thousands of fouettes, but there is very much more to the ART of ballet than this. That's what Arnold Haskell was talking about.

I thought after I had posted this that "It's the same everywhere" is a wild exaggeration. It's not the same in Paris - yet - and no doubt there are other examples of companies where all or most dancers are trained in their own school.

"It was interesting, though sad, that so few of the names you mentioned were Danish." Yes, I thought that. It's the same everywhere. I knew they were building a new theatre - have you any idea where? I am very sad that Denmark is throwing away its heritage, if that is really the case. It's bad enough that Britain is, but Denmark's heritage is so much older. Overall, I thought the standard was much the same as the English Royal Ballet. They do seem to programme more Bournonville than we do Ashton, though. Gudrun Bojeson's dancing made me think that someone must be doing something right, somewhere!

Richard, I remember seeing The Swan of Tuonela. I liked the idea, but didn't think the ballet entirely successful. Concerning Lohengrin, have you heard the story (possibly apocryphal but quite possibly true) about a production where the tenor singing Lohengrin didn't manage to get into the boat in time? With great presence of mind he sang, in German, "When does the next one go?" Also, there is a rhyme about the legends of swans singing before they die: Swans sing before they die: 'twere no bad thing Should certain people die before they sing. I think I've spent too much time listening to musicians' jokes!

I should have thought that a school like the POB one would expect to be reviewed in the press, as the Royal Ballet School performances are. At that level the children are more or less professional. Obviously, one should have respect for their youth and inexperience. I suppose the problem with the Internet is the one you mention as the reason for the ban - you can't be certain who is posting, and you can't be certain people will be....well, not kind, but positive. I love reading about school performances, as I love going to them. I have really enjoyed reading these comments.

Viviane - thank you for the Thomas Lund site - beautiful photos. I hadn't seen them.

I'm not sure about the tennis, but I remember when The Times (the English one) referred to Dame Margot and "Mr Nureyev", which I always found quite funny. Ballet fans in London called them Margot and Rudi - at least, the ones I knew did. You hear people say "Alina" a lot now, because Cojocaru is hard to pronounce - or perhaps people would just say it anyway, as they say "Darcey".

I'm not sure about the tennis, but I remember when The Times (the English one) referred to Dame Margot and "Mr Nureyev", which I always found quite funny. Ballet fans in London called them Margot and Rudi - at least, the ones I knew did. You hear people say "Alina" a lot now, because Cojocaru is hard to pronounce - or perhaps people would just say it anyway, as they say "Darcey".

Paul, I was aware when I was writing this that it wasn't detailed enough - the problem is that the performance was a while ago, and there were so many other things crowding through my mind - Danish castles, Hans Andersen's house, trains over incredibly long bridges between Danish islands...so by the time I arrived home some details had entirely left my overcrowded brain! I really cannot remember Sarah van Patten - I didn't know her name before I went, so wasn't particularly looking for her. There were some nice performances from the fairies, but nothing that made me sit up and think "She's amazing." I do remember that the Garland Dance (waltz) struck me as rather uninspired choreography, with some awkward things to do with the garlands. I'm afraid I didn't notice the Sapphire pas de deux - I was probably too busy trying to work out which was Sapphire (Amy Watson), so that I could comment to her grandparents, who as I said were sitting near - and her costume was almost indistinguishable from Silver. There was just so much to take in, with a production and dancers entirely new to me, not to mention trying to read a programme in Danish! I wish I could see it all over again now, to take in all the things I missed the first time. However, I did think that Aurora, Desire and Carabosse gave superb performances, and certainly brought real characterisation to their roles.

I enjoyed the performance very much on the whole. I found the production quite acceptable, but not remarkable in any way - perhaps a little lacking in grandeur, but good sets, with a Russian icon-ish feel. Craig Miller's costumes (I hope I've got this right, but the programme is naturally in Danish) are pleasingly traditional, with the usual problem that the fairies are not sufficiently different from one another. The worst mistake in the costumes, to me, was the wearing of wigs by the prince and Aurora in Act 3 - wigs take so much from the dancers' line and individuality, and I always feel cheated if they are worn. As Aurora, Gudrun Bojeson impressed me very much. Technically she was first rate - very good Rose Adagio, and absolutely beautiful last act solo, but what really struck me was that she never let the characterisation slip. She was Aurora, a young, charming, sunny girl gradually growing up. and every step was part of that. I have no doubt that she is all these things in real life, but communicating them is not so easy, and for me she succeeded completely. My only slight criticism is that she seemed to tire a little in the vision scene. The Prince was the Australian Andrew Bowman, and he too was impressive - tall and elegant, with a truly regal presence (talking of regal presence, Queen Margrethe was in the audience, which was quite surprising considering she was at the English Queen Mother's funeral in London the same day). Bowman danced and partnered with great assurance - pity about the wig. Carabosse was Jette Buchwald - my ignorance of Danish dancers is such that until I looked for her photo in the programme I did not know whether she was male or female. A very strongly projected performance, with powerful mime and theatening presence. Only three attendants, though, and no chariot. I have to admit that nearly a week after the performance I can't remember one prologue fairy from another. They were all quite adequate, but no-one stood out for me. My primitive Danish told me that the fairy names were the ones I grew up with - Golden Vine, Crystal Fountain and so on. Sarah van Patten, who is mentioned on another thread, was Woodland Glades, and Songbirds, here called Nightingale, was an American girl, Amy Watson, who also danced the Sapphire Fairy. Her grandparents were sitting near us, and hearing us speaking English, came and told us about her, which was very nice, They said she is going to represent the company in some competition - I'm not clear about the details. The Lilac Fairy was a tall blonde girl called Haley Henderson - I was thinking how Danish she looked, but the name doesn't sound very Danish. She gave a reasonably good performance. Why are Lilac Fairies always tall? When I was doing ballet as a child and growing far too fast, people always said "You'll just have to be the Lilac Fairy." I suppose it's the expansive music. In the last act, I was interested in Thomas Lund, who was one of the fairies' cavaliers. I had heard many complimentary things about him, but from this performance I really do not think I'd have noticed him. His line was very much obscured by the costume and wig, especially his neck and shoulders, so his epaulement, which I had heard was good, was not noticeable or even really visible. He has very bulging thighs, like Nijinsky. I felt somewhat cheated out of the fairy tale characters in Act 3 - only Blue Birds and the Cats. Harlequin and Columbine, and Beauty and the Beast, appear but do little. There really should be a grand parade here. The Blue Birds (called that, no mention of Princess Florine) were Diana Cuni, who I did not take to, and Andrei Batalov, who was very good. I'd like to have seen Thomas Lund do it. It was wonderful to be in the Royal Theatre again - what a beautiful place it is, and so full of atmosphere and history.

On the Royal Ballet video of Les Sylphides the Valse is danced by Merle Park and the Mazurka by Annette Page, both dancers I remember very well. Park was particularly musical, a wonderful dancer indeed. Annette Page was one of those dancers who was always overshadowed by the great dancers of that era - Fonteyn, Sibley, Park and Seymour, but nevertheless she danced many leading roles. I love that video, because it shows Nureyev exactly as I remember him.

I absolutely agree with Cargill. Most "fairy tales" actually have quite a lot to say - that is the reason they are immortal. Many, or even most, of them were not originally aimed at children, and are more properly called "folk tales". It depends on the level you choose for interpretation. I don't mean pseudo-Freud, either, but metaphors about the great truths of life.

I have been hesitating about asking this, because I think it may be a very British attitude, but I am genuinely curious. In America, do musicals generally come under the heading of "arts"? I would tend to describe them as light entertainment, which isn't quite the same thing.

Strangely, it had never struck me to wonder why there is a maypole dance in a harvest ballet. Perhaps they weren't confined to May. Much of the music is very springlike, it seems to me. Then there's always "Spring Waters"

And even a maypole!