Ballet companies aren't in the habit of dedicating triple bills to one choreographer's work - which is why the Royal's all-MacMillan programme makes such an impact. By juxtaposing three works from three different periods we're not only given an overview of Sir Kenneth MacMillan's huge range; we're also reminded of how compulsively theatrical his instincts were, even when making ballets with no apparent plots. Concerto (1966), Rituals (1975) and Gloria (1980) have no stories to tell, yet all of them beckon us into narrative. Even Concerto - a Balanchine-influenced setting of Shostakovich's second piano concerto - has at its heart a pas de deux of intriguing, elusive romance. Gloria looks most like a story ballet in that its staging takes us directly into the wastelands of the second world war, yet it contains no images of fighting. MacMillan suspends the frank athleticism of his dancers' moves within a kind of otherworldly trance, creating a meditation on the limbo land between life and death.
Rituals (revived after a long absence from the stage) draws on elements from traditional Japanese culture and it too is a hybrid of narrative and abstraction. It's set to Bartok's Sonata for Two Pianos and Percussion, a surprising but inspired choice. It is also gloriously staged, with the epic scale of Yolande Sonnabend's black and parchment designs matching the grandeur of some of MacMillan's dance patterns. Yet choreographically and dramatically it is an oddity, which should perhaps have been consigned to history.
The opening martial art section promises well, with the thrillingly muscular heft of its choreography pointed by exquisitely subtle detail. But the middle section in which two puppets are manhandled by an anonymous chorus looks bizarrely clumsy and overcrowded while the third, a ritualised encounter between a mother and a midwife, is incoherent both as drama and as dance.
Rituals resembles some of MacMillan's other half-successful works, in that we sense the presence of glowing ideas behind its creation yet don't see them fully realised onstage. It is possible, however, that different dancers might give a different view of the piece, for on Wednesday it felt as if this work, like the whole programme, was under-cast. I appreciated the democratic inclusion of so many young dancers throughout the evening, and enjoyed seeing both Jane Burn and Mara Galeazzi showing off their growing authority. But the dancers were generally third- or fourth-cast material. It was noticeable that when principals like Leanne Benjamin and Jonathan Cope came on stage, everything changed. Suddenly the choreography was liberated from the physical logic of its steps into a realm of interpretations and imaginings.
Until February 7. Box office: 0171-304 4000
