In the doldrums for far too long, the Bolshoi is on the way to reclaim its position as one of the world's leading companies

….

Swan Lake, which concluded the first week, returns near the end of the season. This is Grigorovich's 1969 version, its Soviet happy ending recently replaced with a sombre coda. Prince Siegfried turns out to be as great a fantasist as Don Quixote. He dreams of an unattainable love, only to be cruelly deceived. An Evil Genius, his dark alter ego, tantalises him with visions of a pure swan maiden and a sexual temptress. Since neither is real, the deluded prince is bereft as the curtains close.

Andrei Uvarov needs to be more assertive as the romantic hero. It's supposed to be his ballet, so he should dominate the court scenes. Uvarov displays his elegant line in solos but appears swamped by the numerous ensemble dances. Grigorovich's choreography is musically brutal; only when his production reverts to the traditional white acts is it possible to watch without wincing. Then, as massed swans assemble by an imaginary lakeside, the distinction between the Bolshoi and Kirov styles is revealed at its clearest.

Well-drilled, the Bolshoi corps dances brusquely, snapping into position: Kirov swans yield to a collective sigh. Svetlana Zakharova, the first night Odette/Odile, who transferred a year ago from the Kirov, seems, indeed, to come from another world. She's eerily appropriate for this production, dancing to a markedly slower tempo than the corps as though time were holding still for Siegfried.

She trails her long arms like pinions, leg arched up behind in the shape of a swan in proud sail, always in motion. A refined Odette, Zakharova has blossomed at the Bolshoi into a grand dramatic diva, her Odile a flamboyant deceiver. Swan Lake truly belongs to the ballerina in her double role and Zakharova reclaims it as of right.