La Sylphide is a gem of the romantic ballet era, but first we had a piece by George Balanchine, who rejected all that, mainly in favour of abstract creations with dancers arranged in symmetrical, one could say mathematical, groupings. Such a piece is Ballo della Regina of 1978.

Set against a backdrop of watery blues and greens, 16 girls and two soloists in pastel shades dance in classical formations. Laura Morera smiles relentlessly throughout, as though she fears we won’t like her; Federico Bonelli is pretty impressive; and, in the waltz, up-and-coming Melissa Hamilton shows why people are talking about her. Balanchine is of course very widely admired, and you can’t dislike all this, but, as a very distinguished critic said to me in the interval: “What’s it all for?”

Bournonville’s Sylphide, made in 1836 is the antitheses: full of passion and frustration, and with a sad come-uppance. In this Danish representation of Scotland, James is enticed into the woods, on the eve of his wedding to Effie, by a beautiful sylph, but he can’t catch her. Madge, a resentful witch whom he threw out of his house, gives him a scarf which she says will make the sylph his when she wears it, but it kills her.

In the last scene, as he lies distraught in the woods, James sees a happy wedding procession — it’s Effie, now marrying his best friend Gurn. A pretty quick turn-around, but I guess she loved him all the time.

Johannes Stepanek makes Gurn a gentle, likeable fellow. It’s clear from the start that he loves Effie. He is the man who tries to placate the witch, dances with the girls as the stage is filled with swirling kilts and feathered caps, and leads the search for the missing James. James was played by Dawid Trzensimiech. It’s hard to warm to him, as he comes over as rather arrogant and cold, but he has very quick, neat feet and beats — most necessary in Bournonville’s ‘Scottish’ dances.

The Sylph is Tamara Rojo, one of the Royal Ballet’s finest. Still in her thirties, she has just been appointed artistic director of English National Ballet, so this may mean her appearances become rare.

She dances beautifully, creating a saucy sylph who has lost her heart to a mortal. The little signature passages where she claps her hands, laughing as she dances, are done with great charm, and the softness of her style is perfect for Bournonville’s unstrained choreography. Gary Avis is a terrific Madge, and Romany Pajdak a delightful Effie.

Until June 15.