REVIEW: Birmingham Royal Ballet’s Don Quixote


Rating: 3 out of 5.

A lost feeling ballet saved by one phenomenal performance.


Carlos Acosta’s version of Don Quixote never quite finds its feet. Miguel de Cervantes’ Don Quixote tells the story of a deluded knight who famously jousts with windmills. Perhaps the first ‘modern’ novel, it asks us to consider what is real and unreal, what is worth valuing, and where elusive happiness might be found. These are fertile themes for ballet, but the production never seems to delve into any of them. Quixote watches as two simple love stories unfold, occasionally pointing his spear at someone to advance the plot.

What really great narrative ballet does is use dance’s mysterious and bodily qualities to delve into parts of a story that words are too jagged for. Here, the story is just a framework for dances to be sequenced within. There is almost a distrust of dance’s ability to carry narrative and feeling: the plot is pushed forward by awkward mime or projection, and then dance happens, rather than dance being used to tell the story.

This would be fine if the dancing were truly exceptional. Unfortunately, Acosta’s choreography repeats itself. The cause is likely the music. Hans Werner Henze’s re-orchestration of Ludwig Minkus’ score brings some sense of varied musical texture, but is hampered by Minkus’ tendency to return to the same ideas and voicings.

Acosta does create exciting and moving moments. A particularly good series of pas de deux plays throughout with a lovely sense of symmetry between the two dancers. The opening of the second act has a sequence reminiscent of Balanchine’s Theme and Variations — the same beauty found through precision of position. And whilst the production struggles to tell its story through dance, the dancing itself is often fun and charming. The company are excellent.

On the night I saw it, Momoko Hirata danced Kitri. Her performance was phenomenal. She has an extraordinary way of making each motion feel both precisely rehearsed and a spontaneous decision of the character — the oxymoron at the centre of brilliant ballet: impossibly difficult, yet done with ease. Hirata masters that illusion throughout. Each movement flows pristinely into the next; there is a constant, beautiful sense of shape, both in her body and as it moves through space.

Don Quixote feels a little lost. Its story is hazy to the point of illegibility, and its music never finds a second gear. It is danced very well, and Birmingham Royal Ballet are well worth seeing — they routinely make beautiful work and have rightly earned huge success both at home and on tour — but this isn’t them at their best.

Don Quixote runs at Sadler Wells until 25th April. Tickets here.

REVIEW: Matthew Bourne’s The Red Shoes


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A exquisite production exploring the challenges of artistry and celebrating the joy of dance


Something very special happens when an artist decides to explore a story about their own craft. It often means that the story is told with heart, passion, and nuance, and that’s one of the things that makes Matthew Bourne’s telling of The Red Shoes so mesmerising – one of the many things. This is a show about what it takes to be an artist, and what it takes from those who must create.

Matthew Bourne is known as a visionary in modern ballet, so it’s no surprise that this production features some truly spectacular choreography. It will also come as no surprise that the dancing itself is superb, as Bourne’s company New Adventures seems to have some of the finest young dancers an audience is likely to see. Cordelia Braithwaite, whose dancing is beautifully delicate and yet powerful, plays the rising star, torn between the love of a struggling composer and success as a ballerina. While the entire company is exquisite, a special mention is due (as is becoming increasingly the case in New Adventures productions) to Jackson Fisch, who moves with such grace, precision, and character specificity as to be simultaneously chameleon and unmistakable. 

Bernard Herrmann’s music, orchestrated by Terry Davies, is rich, textured, and powerful storytelling all on its own. Were the visuals not so spectacular, one might even be tempted to close their eyes and focus on the swells and detailed arrangements (listen out for the harp – under-utilised in most orchestras and put to incredible effect here). 

The production is simple, realistic and stylish, as are the costumes. A spinning curtained proscenium arch is used to separate the dancer’s experience onstage from the chaos that occurs behind it. The story is told clearly, with immense feeling and a focus on the pure joy of ballet.

While this is a story that explores the highs and lows of creativity, the result is a show that wholly celebrates the art of dance. As the artists perform the challenging choreography with soul and passion, the challenge for the audience is not to grin with glee.

The Red Shoes is at Festival Theatre until 18th April 2026.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Alexander Whitley

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Alexander Whitley about Alexander Whitley Dance Company’s new double bill The Rite of Spring / Mirror.

This show runs from Wednesday 18 – Saturday 21 March 2026.

Tickets are available at https://www.sadlerswells.com/


In The Rite of Spring / Mirror, how are you using AI and motion capture to challenge what audiences think dance can express about human agency?

We’re using motion capture and AI-driven visual systems to place the dancers in dialogue with digital mirror forms—3D avatars and AI-generated imagery that respond to and are shaped by the dancers’ movements.

Although these digital elements are always rooted in what the performers are doing, they produce variations and reflections of that movement. In a sense, they mimic the dancers, but in ways that can also constrain them. The work explores the tension created by this relationship: a space where human action is continuously mirrored and replicated by technology.

The narrative reflects an idea explored by Shannon Vallor in The AI Mirror: that AI largely reflects historical data—things humans have already done or imagined—whereas humans are what she calls “auto-fabricators,” constantly imagining and constructing new futures. When we increasingly rely on AI to make decisions for us or define who we are, we risk limiting that imaginative agency.

Through the choreography and digital environment, the piece stages a series of scenarios in which the human performer interacts with—and gradually becomes more dependent on—something that ultimately reflects only a shallow image of themselves.

What drew you to reimagining The Rite of Spring at this particular moment in our relationship with technology?

We’re living through a moment when AI is rapidly transforming how we work, think, and circulate knowledge. It feels like a genuine cultural and societal shift—a kind of rupture.

There’s also something symbolically powerful about the role technology is beginning to play in the world. Some people speak about AI in almost theological terms—as if it’s replacing older ideas of higher powers that govern our lives. That idea resonates strongly with The Rite of Spring, which centres on a community performing sacrificial dances in relation to forces they believe control their fate.

Stravinsky’s music is saturated with tension—fear, reverence, and awe—and these emotional currents speak strongly to the kind of uneasy relationship we have with powerful systems that shape our world.

The original work was also created at a moment of profound social change, just before the First World War, when industrialisation and mechanised warfare were reshaping society. You can hear something of that in the music—the violent rhythms, the almost mechanical drive of the score.

In that sense, The Rite of Spring already contains a deep anxiety about humanity’s relationship with the technologies shaping its future. Reimagining it through the lens of AI feels like a natural continuation of that conversation.

How does premiering this work at Sadler’s Wells East influence the scale and ambition of your choreography?

Knowing the work will premiere at Sadler’s Wells East certainly influences how we think about scale and the design of the production. It’s an exciting context for the piece, and it encourages us to imagine how the choreography and visual world can expand to fill a large theatrical space like this.

At the same time, our productions tour widely, so the work needs to remain flexible and adaptable across different venue sizes.

The technology plays an important role in that. Through projection and digital imagery, we’re able to extend the presence of the dancers beyond the physical bodies on stage. Although the cast is relatively small—five dancers, which is modest for a Rite of Spring—the visual systems allow those performers to multiply and expand across the stage space.

In that sense, the choreography operates on both a human scale and a much larger visual one, allowing the piece to feel expansive while remaining intimate.

Through Mirror, inspired by The AI Mirror, what questions are you hoping audiences will ask themselves about their own connections with AI?

It’s such a vast subject that I’m not trying to offer a comprehensive statement about AI. Instead, I hope the piece creates a space where audiences can reflect on their own feelings and relationships with the technology.

The work approaches the subject through a very human lens—specifically, the dynamics of intimate relationships. It asks what happens when AI enters that space, represented here through digital avatars and imagery generated from the dancers’ movements.

One of the central questions is how our interactions with technology might be reshaping the way we relate to each other. The piece moves through different emotional states—what begins as playful experimentation with technology gradually becomes something more unsettling.

But ultimately, there is a hopeful note. Inspired by the conclusion of Vallor’s book, the work suggests that our relationship with these technologies is not predetermined. We still have the agency to shape both how we use them and how they develop.

At its core, the piece is an attempt to reaffirm the value of human-to-human connection in a world where technologies—particularly AI chatbots—are increasingly designed to mediate or even replace it.

Since founding Alexander Whitley Dance Company, how has your vision of blending digital technology and live performance evolved?

Over the twelve years since founding the company, it’s been a long and gradual learning process—often involving learning the hard way. Working with technology in performance can be complex and unpredictable, and many of the insights have come simply from trying things and discovering the challenges along the way.

You really have to dive in to understand the possibilities and limitations of different technologies. Over time we’ve learned more about the creative affordances of various digital systems and how they can contribute to different stages of the choreographic process.

While we continue to integrate technology into live performance, our work has increasingly explored how these tools can open up new forms of participation in dance. For example, interactive installations or virtual reality experiences allow audiences to step inside the world of the choreography rather than viewing it from a distance. In some cases, audiences can move within the environment and even influence how the performance unfolds.

I see these different forms of experience as complementary rather than competitive. Theatre performance, interactive work, and immersive digital formats each offer different ways for people to encounter movement and physical thinking.

Our work is also shaped by close collaborations—particularly with our creative technologist, Luca Biada. Over time, we’ve built a shared understanding of how these technologies can operate within a performance context and what’s required to integrate them into touring productions. Much of our development happens iteratively over long periods, gradually building the systems and tools needed to achieve the artistic outcomes we’re interested in.

Mirror is the first project where AI has played such a central role, and we’re still learning what it can offer choreographically—especially in relation to movement itself. It remains a big and open field of exploration.

When balancing raw physical movement with algorithmic systems on stage, what remains essential to keeping the work emotionally human?

My starting point has always been the physicality of dance. That raw human presence is fundamental, and it acts as an anchor when we introduce technological elements.

What’s important for me is that the digital systems remain connected to the performers. In our work, the visuals and projections are driven live by the dancers through real-time systems. That means the imagery you see is always rooted in what the performers are doing in the moment.

If the visuals were pre-recorded, the relationship would be very different—the dancers would effectively be serving the technology. By keeping the interaction live, we create a feedback loop where movement generates visual change and the dancers respond to what they see emerging around them.

This creates a genuine dialogue between human and machine, which mirrors the kinds of interactions we increasingly have with technologies in everyday life.

Even though digital systems can represent human bodies or movements, they remain fundamentally different from the experience of seeing a living person move. Presenting those two things side by side allows us to reflect on what makes human presence unique—what it is about watching another body move that resonates with us emotionally.

That contrast is essential to the work I’m interested in making: exploring what it means to be human in dialogue with the technological systems shaping the world around us.

REVIEW: Turn it Out With Tiler Peck & Friends


Rating: 5 out of 5.

An inventive and dazzling love letter to Ballet itself.


After its sold-out world premiere in New York and a first run at Sadler’s Wells in 2023, Turn It Out with Tiler Peck & Friends returns this March with the same spirit that first sparked it: curiosity, collaboration and an infectious love for dance in all its forms.

Peck, the magnetic principal of New York City Ballet, has long been recognised as one of the most exciting ballerinas of her generation. But this programme proves her choreographic voice is just as compelling. Turn It Out feels less like a traditional ballet bill and more like a creative gathering: dancers, musicians, choreographers and tap artists all sharing the same stage and language.

The evening unfolds as a series of distinct works, each with its own energy but all guided by Peck’s restless creativity.

It opens with The Barre Project, Blake Works II, choreographed by William Forsythe and set to an electronic score by James Blake. The dancers remain anchored to the barre, executing razor-sharp classical movements while Blake’s electronic soundscape hums beneath them. The effect is striking: ballet, usually paired with lush orchestral scores, suddenly feels percussive and almost mechanical. It’s a clever reminder that even the most traditional ballet training can be reimagined.

A shift in mood arrives with Swift Arrow, a duet by contemporary choreographer Alonzo King. Performed by Peck and her husband, Roman Mejia, the piece carries a quiet intimacy that’s hard to ignore. The score, performed live by jazz pianist Jason Moran, fills the theatre with rich, expressive chords. The choreography responds with equal musicality, at times fluid and sensual, at others testing the edges of balance and momentum.

Peck’s own choreography comes to the fore in Thousandth Orange, set to music by Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Caroline Shaw. With a string quartet and piano performing live on stage, the connection between dancers and musicians becomes almost seamless. Peck describes the piece as “the orange tree,” and the metaphor lands beautifully. Dancers dressed in warm shades of orange seem to grow outward from a shared centre, forming shifting patterns that feel both organic and precise. Shaw’s score moves between harmony and tension, mirrored in choreography that pulses with colour and musicality.

Then comes the evening’s unexpected highlight: Time Spell. 

Created with tap innovator Michelle Dorrance and choreographer Jillian Meyers, the piece becomes a joyful collision of ballet and tap. If ballet often floats above the music, tap here creates it, quite literally. The tap dancers become the rhythmic engine of the work while the ballet dancers answer with dazzling precision on pointe.

The score unfolds through layered vocal improvisations by Aaron Marcellus Sanders and Penelope Wendtlandt. Using looping, their voices gradually build into something almost orchestral. As the music swells, so do the bodies, culminating in lifts that feel almost gravity-defying.

Throughout the evening, Peck herself remains the gravitational centre. Every movement originates deep within the body, every transition executed with breathtaking speed and control. Movements performed in this way make Peck appear as though she is generating the very music itself.

Turn It Out with Tiler began as a daily ballet class Peck streamed on Instagram from her parents’ kitchen during the pandemic, connecting dancers around the world when theatres were dark. That same sense of community still pulses on stage. As Peck herself says, the evening is “a love letter to my craft and to the dancers who inspire me.”

By the end, that love letter is unmistakable. Turn It Out with Tiler Peck & Friends is a vibrant reminder that ballet today is far more than tutus and tiaras. It’s collaborative, inventive and thrillingly alive.

Turn it Out With Tiler Peck & Friends at Sadler’s Wells Theatre finished its run on the 14th of March 2026. Upcoming Sadlers Wells shows can be found at https://www.sadlerswells.com/whats-on/

Written by Lucy Howarth

FEATURE: Lynn Seymour- A Trailblazer Remembered


The event established a thoughtful tone for a week of theatre, film, music and discussion.


On International Women’s Day, the Women’s Voices Arts & Culture Festival opened its programme at the Playhouse Theatre with an evening dedicated to the formidable legacy of Lynn Seymour, a dancer whose dramatic intensity helped reshape narrative ballet in the twentieth century. Positioned at the start of a multi-disciplinary festival celebrating women’s artistic voices, the event established a thoughtful tone for a week of theatre, film, music and discussion.

Seymour, who rose to prominence with The Royal Ballet, built her reputation on performances that prioritised emotional truth over classical composure. A key collaborator of Kenneth MacMillan, she helped usher ballet toward a more psychologically searching form of storytelling. Her interpretations in works such as Romeo and Juliet and Mayerling suggested that beneath the elegant architecture of classical technique lies something more volatile: contradiction, vulnerability and desire.

The evening opened with excerpts from the BBC documentary Lynn Seymour: In a Class of Her Own, filmed at a pivotal moment in Seymour’s life. Shot around the time she was confronting the aftermath of a serious injury at forty, the film captures an artist reflecting on the fragility of the body on which her entire craft depends. Rather than presenting a triumphant portrait, the documentary offers something more revealing: a dancer negotiating uncertainty, resilience and the realities of longevity in an art form that often equates youth with permanence.

Providing context for the programme was Naomi Sorkin, who introduced the evening and situated Seymour’s career within the wider themes of the festival. Her remarks drew attention not only to Seymour’s artistic achievements but also to the broader history of women whose contributions have shaped performance culture, often beyond the spotlight.

Interwoven with the archival material was a live performance by Ellie Young. Young’s interpretation functioned as a bridge between past and present, translating Seymour’s expressive legacy into contemporary movement. The choreography unfolded alongside a beautifully restrained live piano accompaniment, whose delicate phrasing created an intimate dialogue between music and movement.

Across the wider Women’s Voices Arts & Culture Festival, the programme moves fluidly between forms. Theatre sits alongside musical and literary evenings, while conversations with writers and filmmakers examine the craft and politics of storytelling. The festival places women’s creative voices at its centre, allowing different disciplines to speak to one another across the week. Against this broader context, the tribute to Seymour carried particular resonance. The programme quietly demonstrated that her legacy is not preserved in archives alone, but in the way dancers continue to approach character, risk and emotional precision.

The Women’s Voices Arts and Culture Festival runs until the 14th March at the Playground Theatre, London. Tickets here.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Olga Balakleets

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Olga Balakleets, founder of Ballet Icons Gala which celebrated its 20th Anniversary.


This gala brings together some of the very best dancers in the business. When you curate the programme, what is the non-negotiable idea

I always want the audience to leave with strong emotions—emotions that can only come from true artistry, not just technical excellence, even when performed by the world’s most amazing dancers. Art without emotion is not truly art. I also believe in learning through performance, which is why presenting rare classical ballet repertoire and discovering new, talented choreographers has become a core mission of the Ballet Icons Gala. Carefully selecting high-quality repertoire for each programme—work that moves the audience emotionally while offering something new to learn—is the result I always aim to achieve.

You bring together artists from very different companies, styles and training backgrounds. What are you actively looking for when deciding which dancers to invite each year?

The Ballet Icons Gala has developed strong relationships with many established stars and principals from the world’s major companies, and it is a pleasure to extend repeated invitations to them year after year. When considering new dancers, I look for both technical and artistic excellence, as well as their personal vision of the repertoire. It is also exciting to invite artists from companies we have not worked with before, and showcasing up-and-coming young talent is becoming increasingly important to us.

How do you balance artistic risk with audience expectation? Is there a piece you’ve programmed that felt like a genuine gamble at the time?

There is usually little risk with the much-loved classical masterpieces, which we include in almost every programme. Our audiences expect them and cannot imagine a gala without pieces like the Black Swan pas de deux, the Le Corsaire pas de deux, or the grand pas de deux from Don Quixote. The risks usually come with contemporary repertoire, as it can sometimes be very subjective. However, we work with either well-established choreographers or emerging ones who have already demonstrated their vision and capability, so it is rarely a true gamble. Over the years, there have been pieces where we waited with curiosity to see the audience’s reaction, such as works by Javier de Frutos or Xenia Wiest. It is also a pleasure to give dancers the opportunity to present their own choreography during our galas. On several occasions, our performing stars, like Giuseppe Piccone and Sergio Bernal, have taken the stage at the Ballet Icons Gala to showcase their choreographic vision. While it may have felt experimental at first, witnessing these new creations has always been a deeply fulfilling experience.

Has your definition of a leading ballet dancer changed since the first edition of the gala and if so, how?

Yes, it has definitely changed. Over the past 20 years, having met so many leading ballet
dancers, I would now define a true leading dancer as someone who combines
professionalism, efficiency, and respect for colleagues and teams with flexibility and
adaptability. Galas are very different from full-length ballet productions, and dancers often need to adjust quickly while still delivering the highest technical and artistic standard, regardless of circumstances. Above all, I want to see a kind and thoughtful human being first in every leading dancer or star, with all the other qualities following naturally.

Have you ever deliberately programmed something you knew would divide the audience and what made that risk worth taking?

Taking artistic risks is always worthwhile, as art should explore new, sometimes
groundbreaking and even shocking ideas. These risks are usually found in contemporary repertoire—for example, pieces by Jason Kittelberger, Wayne McGregor, Akram Khan, James Pett, and Travis Klausen-Knight can be provocative and occasionally controversial. Programming such works is always a deliberate decision, as it is essential to stimulate the audience and give them something meaningful to reflect on.

Looking ahead, what is your vision for the gala? Do you see this gala remaining primarily a celebration of established excellence, or evolving into a platform that actively shapes where ballet is heading next?

My vision is to continue celebrating the beauty and excellence of ballet while also evolving the Gala into a platform that actively shapes its future. I want it to support dancers and choreographers in bringing their most daring and innovative concepts to life, helping to define the next direction of the ballet.

REVIEW: Ballet Icons Gala


Rating: 3 out of 5.

A star-studded anniversary gala that delivered moments of brilliance, but lacked the cohesion and polish the occasion deserved.


Anniversary galas should invite reflection, or at least a vague sense of what has come before. The 20th anniversary Ballet Icons Gala, however, felt curiously unstructured: a sequence of celebrated pas de deux and contemporary fragments assembled without a clear thematic thread. The highs were undeniable, the lows were harder to ignore.

When the programme worked, it was spectacular. The first half closed with Black Swan, danced by Fumi Kaneko and Vadim Muntagirov. For me it was, without a doubt, the highlight of the evening. Kaneko’s Odile was sharp yet sumptuous, her arms gorgeous and expansive, her line immaculate, her face wily and alive. She looked as though she could perform that fouetté sequence in her sleep. Her partner Muntagirov was a lesson in understated elegance (his grand jeté sequence, in turn, was smooth, controlled and breezy). The chemistry between them — heightened, perhaps, by the knowledge that they were married 4 days before this performance (swoon) — lent the duet an added charge, and I could not pull my eyes away from them.

Don Quixote, delivered by Marianela Núñez and Patricio Revé closed the show in a blaze of bravura; like Kaneko and Muntagirov, their technical control, artistry and sense of performance operated on an entirely different level from the surrounding programme. Núñez was vivacious; Revé matched her with buoyant virtuosity. The choreography, Minkus’s exuberant score and the vivid costuming combined to show off what gala ballet can achieve when artistry, rehearsal and charisma align.

As a collective, the pieces were uneven. Diana and Actaeon felt oddly cold, its central dynamic lacking spark and Madeline Woo offering very little assurance or emotion to her audience. Raymonda, compared with the stronger classical showpieces, faded into the background – the choreography was simply flatter than others. By contrast, Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux was a personal highlight – as a fan of both Tchaikovsky and Balanchine, it’s hard to put a step wrong with a score that moving.

With unstable landings, wobbly pirouettes, and out-of-sync unison passages, several works felt under-rehearsed. In a city where you can see The Royal Ballet, English National Ballet or a visiting roster of world-class companies on any given day of the week, such unevenness is difficult to overlook. A gala need not replicate the polish of a full company run, but it must still meet a certain standard of rehearsal.

The digital backdrop (which I suspected was AI-generated – if not then it’s simply unimaginatively produced) appeared bland and two-dimensional. In several pieces, a plain backdrop would have been better, allowing the dancers to carry the show themselves, which would have been more than enough. Sound design proved more problematic. When the orchestra was not playing, recorded tracks were mixed unevenly, with noticeable fluctuations in volume that drew attention away from the stage. During Uhuru in particular, the imbalance became intrusive to the point that I focused more on that than the dancing.

The opening segment — a montage of self-recorded videos from artists associated with the gala over the years – was yawningly self-congratulatory. Audio levels varied wildly, with the sound engineer’s reactive adjustments being very audible. It felt like a glaringly careless way of opening a show.

Ballet Icons delivered moments of genuine brilliance. When artists of the calibre of Kaneko, Muntagirov and Núñez take the stage, the audience sit up and take note. But an anniversary edition should feel curated and elevated, not simply assembled. The gala offered flashes of excellence framed by inconsistency. Its most memorable performances soared; the surrounding structure struggled to keep pace.

This show runs at X until Y. Tickets here.

REVIEW: Varna International Ballet – Cinderella  


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A playful, modern take on Cinderella with strong dancing and bold visuals.


Cinderella is a classic fairytale beloved by both children and adults around the world. Led by artistic director Daniela Dimova and music director and chief conductor Azat Maxtuov, this production presents a modern retelling of Charles Perrault’s story. The Varna International Ballet is a Bulgarian company currently touring the UK. The overall tone of the ballet feels playful and modern while retaining some traditional elements, giving the performance a fresh take on a familiar story.

The dancing throughout is captivating. Cinderella’s solos and movements are elegant and hopeful, clearly contrasting with those of her stepsisters and stepmother. Their choreography is bold, energetic and deliberately childlike, highlighting their mischievous and immature personalities in a way that complements the story. The Fairy Godmother and her ensemble of fairies deliver beautiful, clean, synchronised sequences, with choreography that conveys a genuine sense of magic and glamour. The Prince is graceful and controlled, often gliding across the stage with long, flowing movements that emphasise his regal presence. An interesting addition in this version is the character of Time, represented by up to twelve dancers who appear across scenes, reminding both audience and characters of the midnight deadline and the tension underpinning the magic.

The costumes are varied and often surprising. Cinderella’s maid outfit appears suitably worn and simple, while the stepsisters and ball guests wear colourful dresses and bold wigs that immediately draw attention. More traditional ballet costumes appear on characters such as the Prince and the Fairy Godmother, featuring pastel shades, shiny fabrics, and sparkling jewels and tiaras. Cinderella’s ball gown is a light pink dress that looks elegant while allowing fluid movement. Her jewelled shoes stand out, catching the light and naturally drawing focus, particularly during the midnight scene. The knitted or crocheted purple and pink wigs add texture and a three-dimensional effect, contributing to the extravagant feel of the ball.

The lighting design is relatively simple but effective. Warm yellow tones often suggest daytime, while cooler blue lighting marks the night scenes. This supports the storytelling without becoming distracting. For instance, when Cinderella sits alone after the ball, the cooler lighting emphasises her sadness and isolation, whereas warmer tones during scenes with the Prince create a more hopeful atmosphere. The production also employs a moving digital backdrop with castle and clock imagery to match the scenes. While this adds clarity and visual interest, some moments feel slightly busy and can draw attention away from the dancers. The music is a lovely rendition of Sergei Prokofiev’s score, with many light, airy passages. Recognisable moments such as the Grand Waltz and the Midnight theme stand out and align well with the action on stage.

Overall, it is a playful and creative version of Cinderella, blending modern touches with traditional ballet elements. The bold visual choices, added story details, and strong ensemble performances make it engaging to watch. It feels accessible and entertaining without losing the core of the original fairytale. It is definitely a production worth seeing, particularly for anyone who enjoys classic stories presented with a fresh twist.

REVIEW: Carlos Acosta’s Nutcracker in Havana


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A charming reimagining with all the exuberance of the original and more


Carlos Acosta’s Nutcracker in Havana takes the classic Christmas ballet in a new direction with his charming Cuban re-imagining. 

The stage was set at the beginning of both acts with an animated tour of a stunning and empty Havana, winding through alleyways and up over buildings until arriving at the scene. The physical set stayed relatively simple, with the sunny island setting of the opening giving way to a large Cuban family home, to a dazzling snow-covered candy wonderland, to a carnival tent, with scene transitions often marked by the rolling past of a vintage car, carrying characters from one scene to the next. Still or slow-moving projections at the back of the stage helped to set the scenes without interfering with the dancing.

The dancing is, naturally, superb. The choreography sticks to classical ballet for much of the show, breaking (sometimes seamlessly, sometimes suddenly) into modern ballet, character dance, and multiple traditional Caribbean styles. Some of the more iconic characters of the original ballet, such as the Prince and the Sugar Plum Fairy, were firmly rooted in classical ballet both in choreography and costuming, maintaining the Sugar Plum Fairy’s iconic sparkly tutu and dressing several other dancers in classic European ballet costuming. The variety of dances in the second act brought more character dancing and a wide range of styles, sticking to the structure of the suites of the original ballet. Although the choreography could have leaned more into the modern and Cuban styles, it struck a good balance between styles, allowing fans of classical ballet and less classical forms alike to be charmed by the dancing. 

The music, like the choreography, was altered but never strayed too far from Tchaikovsky’s original score. The instrumentation was updated with jazz-style brass and electric guitar added to the orchestra, while the rhythms of the score were strikingly adapted to syncopated beats and complex percussion. Some of the more recognisable movements of the original music were kept almost intact, while others were refreshingly new. Also like the choreography, the music could have potentially been pushed much further into more traditional and modern Cuban styles and still maintained the energy and wonder of the original.

While the adaptation could have departed more from the original Nutcracker in Havana is a very successful re-imagining that holds on to the joy, the charm, and the exuberance of the Christmas classic while introducing a new setting and new artistic styles. This production will have modern dance fans and ballet traditionalists alike rejoice with sun-soaked Christmas spirit.

REVIEW: Varna International Ballet – Swan Lake


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

A storybook take on a classic ballet.


Swan Lake is one of the most iconic pieces of ballet for a reason; the score is absolutely faultless. Led by artistic director Daniela Dimova and music director and chief conductor Peter Tuleshkov, Varna International Ballet are a Bulgarian company currently touring the UK. The ballet follows a love story between Prince Siegfried and a young woman named Odette, who has been cursed to turn into a swan. Her curse can only be broken by his love. This is complicated by the machinations of the evil wizard Rothbart, who attempts to trick the prince into falling in love with a woman identical to Odette. The endings to the ballet differ and are often tragic; however, in Varna’s production, Siegfried and Odette are reunited.

The narrative was not immediately clear throughout the show, nor did the presentation of the narrative feel like a priority for the company. The focus was instead on the choreography. However, even to the untrained eye, several moments in the show stood out: the princesses’ solos, the first duet between the prince and the Black Swan, and the performance of the jesters, who injected such joy and whimsy into the show and proved instantly charming.

Asya Stoimenova’s set and costume designs created a storybook effect. The framing device at the start of the show features the prince reading a storybook by the lake. The costumes, with their highly saturated colour scheme and theatrical flair, worked alongside this design and helped to create the impression of watching a story unfold.

There were a few elements of the show that did not entirely work. At various points, the projections decorating the back of the stage were distracting and baffling. They had a grainy quality and often undercut the rest of the production. While the intention of most of the projections was clear, the execution felt unsuccessful, with certain choices such as the owl flying towards the screen at the end of the opening remaining confusing. Another factor that detracted from the show was the orchestra, which felt muted and was occasionally difficult to hear, impacting the effect of some of the ballet’s biggest moments.

Whilst the show was not perfect, with moments where dancers appeared out of sync and some design elements fell short, it was nevertheless a pleasant and enjoyable evening. As a first experience of watching ballet, it’s definitely left me wanting to see and experience more.