Homage to Balanchine

It is nearly two decades since the full New York City Ballet appeared in London. For the moment, Balanchine junkies across the city will have to make do with a small fix of 10 principals and soloists from the main company in a chamber performance.

For decades, the City Ballet was anchored by Jerome Robbins, one of the 20th century's great choreographers, and by George Balanchine, the century's genius. It is not surprising, therefore, that since their deaths the company has been groping its way forwards. It thinks that perhaps it has found its way in British-born Christopher Wheeldon, and on last night's showing of his Polyphonia, it may well be right.

Polyphonia is very much a homage to Balanchine, with quotations from, among others, Apollo, Episodes and Bugaku. However, it is not simply pastiche, but a serious exploration of movement and music and how they are linked. Wheeldon is one of the most musically astute choreographers working today, and the initially formidable Ligeti opens up magically to his organisational skills.

The curtain rises, as with so many Balanchine works, on four couples in practice clothes staring out into the audience. In a series of 10 dances Wheeldon runs through an acrobatic range of spiky, inventive steps.

Particularly remarkable is the central pas de deux for Wendy Whelan and Jock Soto, where the intricate partnering is always surprising, but never seems to be odd for oddity's sake.

Earlier in the evening, Benjamin Millepied's pas de deux, Triple Duet, was less successful. It was a pleasant enough piece, to a Bach partita, but there was not enough cake under the icing. It suffered hugely, too, in being programmed back to back with Balanchine's Duo Concertant, a pas de deux choreographed 30 years ago, and looking as thrilling today as if it were its premiére.

When Balanchine and Stravinsky worked together, it is hard to say whether the music drove the dance or vice versa: each encapsulated the other so perfectly that they become fused into one. Yvonne Borrèe and Peter Boal were in perfect harmony throughout.

The same cannot be said for the Jerome Robbins' In the Night. The intense, swooning lyricism is now beyond all the dancers, who favour a more athletic style, and only Borrèe looked remotely at home in this piece of gossamer romanticism from another age.

Still, if you can only see one company this year, make it this one.

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