As soon as the orchestra strikes up in Cinderella, you hear grief, not glitter. Prokofiev composed this score during the Second World War, and Frederick Ashton created his ballet soon afterwards, as bomb-scarred London clambered back towards normality. It’s an enchanting work, but you hear shadows behind the starlight in Prokofiev’s music.
This is one of the most glorious of all ballet scores – swooningly romantic and rompingly comic, both magical and mysterious. Jonathan Lo conducts it adoringly for the Royal Ballet’s first revival of its 2023 production, drawing out skeetering strings and melancholy woodwind, finding the magic in Prokofiev’s queasy yet alluring waltzes with their irresistible propulsion.
Marianela Nuñez, leading the first cast, makes a captivatingly sweet Cinders. In her patched blue dress and sturdy headscarf, she turns an indulgent smile even on her selfish step-sisters. Maybe a stronger sense of the heroine’s neglect would add texture, but Nuñez suggests that the character’s resilient capacity for pleasure helps her through. Only when her family leaves her alone can she be expansive: springing around with a broomstick, arching her back fully, holding a deliciously extended balance.
Ashton’s ballet first premiered at Christmas in 1948, so no wonder it goes a little bit panto when Cinderella’s step-sisters hog the stage. However expertly done, these fussy japes outstay their welcome. The current production alternates male and female dancers in these roles: on the first night, gormless Luca Acri with Gary Avis, channelling Joan Crawford and mean as mustard, each encased in an unfeasible quantity of ruffle.
Mayhem is balanced by magic: Mayara Magri’s plush Fairy Godmother (twinkling feet, dramatic arms) fills the air with stardust and summons fairies who inspire some of Ashton’s most inventive dance. They include Isabella Gasparini’s astringent, rapid-turning Spring and Meaghan Grace Hinkis’ Autumn, rattling with helter-skelter energy. As transformation takes hold, the walls and ceiling glide away – Cinderella’s world literally opens up.
Tom Pye’s elegant set designs and Alexandra Byrne’s frocks with their sugar-almond palette lead us to the palace ball. Here, the sisters are lividly befrocked, the waltzes are tilting and Reece Clarke’s prince gives lordly charm and a whole lot of leg. Cinderella teeters on pointe while her prince’s default mode is leap and spin – there’s nothing earthbound in this romantic couple. Other-worldly music makes time seem to stand still. Nuñez and Clarke (replacing an injured Vadim Muntagirov) are pure delight.
The ensemble’s spiky arms count down to midnight, Cinders scarpers, and the shorter last act wraps things up. If the closing scene skimps on dancing – the lovers walk steadily up their stairway to paradise – Prokofiev is lavish with sweep and shimmer. It may have been created in a dark time, but the ballet achieves a properly festive promise of pleasure.
Royal Opera House, to January 16; rbo.org.uk
