In So We Are, Paul Lightfoot and Sol León take dancers to unexpected places

More than 30 years ago, Paul Lightfoot, a farmer’s son from Cheshire, was one of Lee Hall’s multiple models when he was confecting the fictional Billy Elliot, the working-class boy who ends up at the Royal Ballet School.

But when Lightfoot graduated, he could only fulfil his artistic ambitions at Nederlands Dans Theater, a hotbed of experimentation and sleek, dramatic dance. He ended up as its artistic director, making some 50 ballets with his choreographic (and former life) partner Sol León.

Worldwide acclaim greeted their creations, but he and León have never choreographed for the Royal Ballet before. Until now. So We Are is an invigorating homecoming, a double bill that pushes the dancers to unexpected places with exhilarating results.

Shoot the Moon, made for NDT in 2006, and set to the second movement of Philip Glass’s Tirol Concerto for Piano (beautifully played by Robert Clark) shows two tortured couples and a muscular male interloper, trapped inside three rooms in a revolving set (designed by the choreographers) of monochrome plumed wallpaper, in different configurations. A camera records in closeup.

The couples – who may or may not be the same – have different inflections of agony. Vadim Muntagirov and Anna Rose O’Sullivan seem to be in a state of angular coercion; she constantly vanishes, walking backwards as if in a trance; he is seen suspended in midair as the room revolves. Lukas B Brænsdrød sits huddled in a glassless window then unfolds up the wall in an effortless one-armed handstand, like a watchful lizard.

Meanwhile, Lauren Cuthbertson and Matthew Ball magnificently mine a range of feeling, through elegantly splayed limbs and voiceless cries. When she dances with Brænsdrød, she seems to melt. Her hands scrabble against the walls; she crumples like an old woman. Ball writhes in panic.   

The whole thing is elegant, sophisticated (with glorious bias-cut dresses) and mysterious. It’s stylistically challenging for the Royal but a pleasure to watch them meet its challenges. That’s even more true of Salle De Danse, an hour-long premiere adapted from a film, which puts 45 dancers through a series of variations loosely based on the exercises dancers do in class.

It begins with Francesca Hayward, spotlight in golden light, draped in rich, red silk, while Marcelino Sambé frenetically dances around her stately progress. Then Natalia Osipova and Matthew Ball appear as the ballet master and mistress, gesticulating furiously. A heavy beam announces each of the succeeding sections, beginning with “Tendus, glissés, frappés, grand battements” and ending with “les applaudissments” – a command to clap.

There’s a cheeky humour at work – the dazzling, extended and altered steps are only tangentially related to their technical description – but also a glory in the power of pure dance, whether it’s the slowly tender Pas de Deux Romantique for Casper Lench and Ravi Cannonier-Watson, or the jazzy, speedy Ronds de Jambe of Joseph Sissens, or the flurry of steps in which Marianna Tsembenhoi twists and turns in Solo Prima Ballerina.

The music by Ilya Demutsky faithfully follows the steps and is slightly dull but the choreography is not. Best of all are the group sections where the entire company from principals to the most junior dancers strut their stuff with élan. It’s a joyous end to a very good season at the Royal.

Photograph by Johan Persson