Ballerina-watching always dominates a Kirov season, not only because their mostly classical programmes show off female dancing with so much ceremony and splash, but also because the women are generally so much better than the men. The queen of the ballerinas is still Uliana Lopatkina - with Swan Lake still her defining ballet.
Lopatkina cultivates mystery the way others cultivate brilliance or personality. Her veiled gaze and private aura rarely seem disturbed by the presence of other dancers, let the audience. As Odette, this reserve gives a peculiar reality to the enchantment under which her character lies, but it's the adagio perfection of her dancing that makes her unique in this ballet. Lopatkina smooths every step into an unbroken flow - as if no muscle or tendon could ever resist the airy curves of the choreography, and as if she never has to take a breath as she modulates from feathered delicacy to grand uplift. Her fluency isn't mechanical; it's like an inspired trance. Though I find it sometimes unmusical and sometimes monochrome it is, without question, phenomenal.
On Thursday, Lopatkina had a prince who actually competed for our attention. I'm never sure why Daniil Korsuntsev isn't pushed harder into the Kirov spotlight, since, unlike most of his peers, he can act as well as dance. Within the limited range of the role he is alert to every nuance in Siegfried's emotional journey and, partnering Lopatkina, his hands as well as his face seem radiant with the joy and terror of discovery.
With the pair of them on stage, it ought to have been a astounding performance - but during the whole of their first lyric encounter they appeared to be dancing in different ballets. Lopatkina's unyielding remoteness made her seem like a princess in a tower, spinning the perfect threads of her dance for her own lonely delight, with the prince just the vaguest of fantasies in her head. Poor Korsuntsev, who was actually down by the lake trying to make love to a real person, never had a chance.
Act two took off more dramatically - with Lopatkina rousing herself for some impressively fierce dancing as Odile. Though she doesn't do sex, she can flaunt herself sparkily. Korsuntsev's hapless adoration started to look tragic rather than irrelevant. It's significant, though, that the real note of tragedy was sounded less by the lovers than by the pristine emotional storm danced up by the corps de ballet in the final act. Those ritual patterns of grief and beauty etched into Tchaikovsky's music remain one of the wonders of the ballet world.
Ends tonight. Box office: 020-7304 4000.
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