The Kirov's public image is that of a company dedicated to classicism. A company whose symbolic colour is the white of exquisitely posed swan princesses or of ghostly bayaderes. But there is an alternative style of 19th- century ballet at which the Russians also excel: the colourful spectacles in which dance kicks up its legs with the boisterous traditions of the music hall.
None of these are more boisterous than Petipa's comedy Don Quixote, performed here in Gorsky's 1902 version. The work is an unholy mix of farce, folk dance, technical tricks and limpid classicism. The Kirov's dancers breeze through the choreography's technical terrors and never patronise the material.
On Thursday, the tone of the ballet was pitched high and fast by Diana Vishneva as Kitri and Faroukh Ruzimatov as her lover Basil. The latter is a little slow-witted and too self- absorbed to hit every note of raffish, street-smart humour, yet there is enough swagger in his dancing to generate comic energy. He is a glamorous foil to Vishneva, whose brazenly high extensions and fizzing dynamics are made lovable by her pretty arms and huge grin.
As the story careers around its slapstick scenario (the Don is trying to prevent Kitri's father from marrying his daughter to the local fop) the stage is hardly still for a moment. The work's speed is guaranteed to keep boredom at bay, though at times it does threaten to become manic. An overpadded Sergei Konstantinov as Sancho Panza throws away his best jokes in a frenzy of mugged grimaces. Although the whole cast perform with an engaging sense of fun and unselfconscious enjoyment, they could do with an acting coach to polish up their comic timing.
Exceptional, though, is Vladimir Ponomarev as the Don. As angular and attenuated as a Spanish saint, he staggers in hollowed-eyed pursuit after schemes and visions. Through his eyes, we are granted the most singular vision of the whole production: Natalia Sologub dancing the Queen of the Dyrads in the Don's fevered imagination. Sologub possesses an eerily perfect control over her body: the long, singing lines of her movement not only cast a brief lyric spell within the ballet but promise an extraordinary future career.
• Ends tonight. Box office: 020-7304 4000.
