The last time I encountered ballet was just under twenty years ago, when I attended a dance school in Leeds as a sprightly seven year old. Despite the teacher's placatory comments on my 'lovely round arms', I was far from being the most graceful of the group. But although I didn't quite 'get' it, I always enjoyed myself. Now, watching the men and women from the Birmingham Royal Ballet Company cast shapes across the stage at York Theatre Royal, I notice that they too appear to be enjoying themselves. Perhaps there's something innately pleasing about moving one's body, whether you're any good at it or not. | "Perhaps there's something innately pleasing about moving one's body, whether you're any good at it or not" | |
The large, breathless man sitting next to me is struck by the performance of one girl in particular. "Now she's good", he whispers to his friend. And he's right, she is, but so are the others - even if one or two of them wobble ever so slightly every now and then. Personally, I'm bowled over by the sheer strength of these dainty yet muscular men and women. They bound and twist through Solitaire, the tale of a girl who dances alone, amongst a group of imaginary friends. They seemingly glide through Brouillard, an often comical piece set to nine of Debussy's piano preludes, which to my delight are played exquisitely. But I do have a bit of trouble figuring out the meaning of these works. The final piece of the evening, Pineapple Poll, is more akin to a musical than the ones prior to it. The costumes are bolder and brighter, the characters' actions more exaggerated, and the narrative much clearer. I quickly understand that Poll is in love with the captain of a ship, but that he is in love with the fiance Poll knows nothing about. Even the little girl in front (the one who asked her dad earlier in the evening, "What on earth is going on?!") seems to understand the story of Pineapple Poll. It's a pleasant feeling, knowing what's going on at last. Or at least, thinking I do (I have a nagging feeling I'm not privy to all the clever references). My re-acquaintance with ballet takes me back to the few years I spent dutifully pointing my toes and pretending to be a rocket / butterfly / star. And as I stare at the spectacle before me, I realise not a great deal has changed in twenty years - I still don't entirely 'get' ballet, but I certainly enjoy it! Katy Wright | 
