A teary night at the RB's Ashton Double Bill

Two years ago, around this time, I fell in love for the first time. Before this happened to me, I never used to cry when I watched a sad film, listened to sad music, saw a sad ballet – crying just wasn't something I did much. Since meeting my boyfriend, I seem to cry all the time or at least get lumps in my throat on a regular basis. My insides are now probably made up of marshmallow and spun sugar and it's all to do with lurrrve. Before any of this happened, I was never moved by art in the way that I am now. It's really rather interesting. I understand art in a deeper context and so much of it means more to me now that I've experienced love than it ever could do before. With ballet, I was always moved but never deeply or to the point where I could cry. This has all changed. It comes as no surprise then that I was brought to tears during Rhapsody and Two Pigeons last week; however, the way that both of these ballets were danced touched me so greatly that I started to contemplate life, love and art for the rest of the evening.

I don't know what Francesca Hayward and James Hay did, I can't describe it and have no way of knowing how to put it into words, but whatever it was, it made me feel something that I have never felt from a short piece before. The first time I saw Rhapsody was a few days prior to this performance with Steven McRae and Natalia Osipova in the starring roles. Of course they did their own take on the ballet and it was impressive and thrilling, but although a virtuoso piece, I could tell that something softer and less in my face would have been better for me. This came true with Hayward and Hay, who were almost fairy-like in the way that they glided across the stage. Hay is a brilliant dancer; he's elf-like but powerful and owned the stage, proving he deserved to be there. All the guys were strong actually, and all in time with the music and more importantly, with each other. The girls all lovely too, as usual. I loved the set design and the way the dancers looked like silhouettes when they were near the columned structure. The neo-classical designs, the music and the costumes made everything seem rather vintage. In a good way. Something about it made me think of Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire movies and I'm not particularly sure why.

All eyes were on Hayward as she glided onto the stage. She's magnificent and emulated a nymph or mythical creature, which was helped by her astonishing bourrees. She was so graceful and light making her such a joy to watch, and Hay was a perfect fit as her partner. The choreography was also exquisite, typical Ashton, with every line and pose cleverly orchestrated. The highlight though was the pas de deux which brought me to tears from start to finish. Hayward and Hay were so careful with their attack on the choreography but this didn't limit them. They were still able to evoke passion and explore the virtuoso side of the choreography while remaining collected and serene. Every look and touch between them was a thing of beauty and it moved something inside me. I will never have the words to describe them or what it was that they did, as no words will do justice to their winning performance. What a shame to think they will not be on the DVD of Rhapsody when it is released.

It must be a laborious task to conquer a Frederick Ashton role. His style is unique and difficult and his characters are complex, often made up of a mix between happiness and sorrow. How do you do that? Look at Alain in La Fille Mal Gardee. On the whole he’s a funny character, introduced to make the audience laugh, but, if done well, he should also make us teary. It’s as if Ashton wants his audience sitting there with bizarre half smiles. It’s genius and it’s not easy to get right. I haven’t even mentioned the technique and stamina needed for his intricate footwork, demanding lifts and elegant lines. All in all, if you’re given an Ashton role, and it’s your debut, hats off to you for even showing up to rehearsals on day one. Many are under the impression that it takes a dancer who has been brought up with the Ashton style to really get it right. I believed this too. Especially after watching Osipova in Rhapsody, which didn’t really work for me (sorry die hard fans, I expect my crucifixion later in in the week). Of course there are many exceptions to the rule, but on the whole, it’s more innate in Royal Ballet School trained dancers. Well I’m prepared to eat my hat; honestly I’m having it for dinner, because New Yorker Beatriz Stix Brunell has completely closed the door on this view.

Before you accuse me of hating on America (although sometimes it seems, who doesn’t), I feel I’m allowed to say what I want about Americans as my mother is a howling New Yorker (the type you’d still hear talking three carriages along on the tube) so I’m pretty sure I have a free pass to speak openly. Often American dancers have a pizzazz and energy that, although infectious, isn’t always wanted – especially not in ballets like Two Pigeons. I don’t want flashy toothy grins or spirit fingers. There needs to be something more pure and subtle than this; something more fluid and hazy in a way. I wasn’t particularly excited to find that the lovely Matthew Ball was going to be partnered by Brunell, for this very reason. I’ve always thought her beautiful and a lovely dancer, but could she really tackle Ashton? The answer is yes she can and very well too. She is similar to Cuthbertson in Act One (who is such a natural comedienne and one of my favourites in the role), with a similar take on the humour as she tries her best to compete with the seductive Gypsy Girl (fantastically danced by Claire Calvert – seriously, where did she come from?). I treat the young girl a bit like Odette/Odile as her humour and naivety shifts in Act Two as she becomes more knowing, serious and in a way, experienced. Like with the swan dualism, it’s difficult to get both sides of the character right but Beatriz did this very well. I think she’s perhaps more natural as the girl in the second act because she was softer, openly passionate and actually quite dreamy (none of that USA pizzazz here). I also think some of this had a lot to do with Matthew Ball.

Oh Matt Ball. All tall and chiselled in form; graceful and elegant on foot. I thought he would have a few years before being Principal ready but that time seems to be getting closer and closer the more he dances. He reminds me of Sergei Polunin, perhaps not as dangerous, but he has so much presence on stage that you can’t help but watch him. It’s a real buzz watching someone who is clearly going to be mega. He’s also a Scouser, like my dad, so whatever happens there will always be a soft spot for him in our house. There is something very classical about Ball. He has the noble thing going on, but he reminds me of the ballet stars from the 60s and 70s. Someone mentioned similarities to David Wall which I understand, and it’s as if he’s graced through from this period. You want to watch wherever he goes on stage and there isn’t an ounce of arrogance in his face or presence, making him even more endearing. He has all of the qualities to be able to do everything. He could dance Albrecht and Siegfried, but also try Rudolf and Des Grieux, with a side of MacGregor, and of course his debut as Romeo was beautiful last year. I think it's clear that I'm a fan. It's his face that seems to do half of the work. He has the ability to make you cry just with a subtle change in expression. Nureyev does it to me whenever I watch him on VHS as Romeo. There is something in his eyes and expression before he's even met Juliet that always puts a lump in my throat. Ball has the same ability and uses it very well and his pas de deux with Brunell in the final scene was exquisite. On the whole this is a light and charming ballet about a man who is seduced by a woman who is not his lover and leaves her, only to return again realising that what he wanted was in front of him all along. That alone makes any marshmallow-made person like myself start to well up but when Ball makes his return to Brunel he can barely look at her. He slowly makes his way down the stairs, glancing at her and then turning away, completely disgusted with himself for what he has done. He finally reaches her and they dance the most beautiful of dances. Brunel's face is full of passion but also of kindness. She dances with optimism and love, while Ball was much darker, hanging his head low in shame, rounding his shoulders to express his sorrow and always looking at her for forgiveness. They were so moving together and although a relatively 'cute' ballet, like Hayward and Hay in Rhapsody, they added something deeper and more intense to their roles.

As you can imagine, the mascara did not stay on that day and I think the complete silence from the audience, with the occasional sniffle, marked our impressed reaction. Damn you boyfriend, now I buy mascara more regularly than I ever did.