When George Balanchine compared himself to a cook he meant to demystify the extraordinary artfulness with which he made his ballets. But a chef can work with the finest ingredients and still bungle a meal - and so can choreographers.
As director of Spain's leading dance company, Nacho Duato has superb forces at his disposal. His dancers possess exquisite musical reflexes, their bodies display that mix of extravagant talent and hardworking modesty that makes for a perfectly unified, responsive troupe.
The designs are executed on a spectacular scale and the costume are beautifully styled and cut. And Duato himself has talent. His combination of glowing, stretchy moves and rhythmic deformations, his ability to freeze quirky human sculpture out of a burst of speed, all add up to real style, and his eye is extraordinary.
Each of the three works shown in London contains images (created with his design team) that are breathtaking. In Txalaparta, a piece inspired by traditional Basque music, two huge, wooden structures float above the stage a giant percussion instrument.
In Acangelo, a quasi-sacred setting of music by Corelli and Scarlatti, the stage is enclosed in a frieze of beaten gold, and its cathedral atmosphere is given an extra twist at the end as two dancers are raised towards heaven in the folds of a huge drape. In White Darkness, a woman in a black dress darts distressed between pools of white light and streams of falling, fine-grained salt.
But, perversely, the more arresting the stage images, the more they underline the dullness of the choreography that links them. Part of the problem is that so many of Duato's steps feel like a preprogrammed response. If the music turns serious, Duato delves into his stock of grand or droopy moves. If the music speeds up, he gets frisky.
What is missing is the mysterious cooking alchemy that combines and enhances the flavour of different steps and builds them into a unique dish. It is noticeable, too, that the best work of the evening is White Darkness, where an implicit narrative drives the dance forward.
In the other two it is hard to figure out the point of the choreography, other than to facilitate some stunning effects. We come away feeling as if we have spent too much time in a designer restaurant: we remember a lot about the decor, the plates, even the plants, but the food has passed us by.
· Until Saturday. Box office: 020-7863 8000.
