London City Ballet

London City Ballet returned to Sadler’s Wells last weekend with a programme of rarely seen works by Balanchine, Ratmansky, Scarlett, and Melac. Still in the early stages of its revival—the company originally folded in 1996 and relaunched just last year—it was a daring offering, and one that more than delivered.

Performance

London City Ballet

Place

Sadler's Wells, London, UK, September 14, 2025

Words

Phoebe Roberts

Alejandro Virelles and Josue Gomez in “Pictures at an Exhibition” by Alexei Ratmansky. Photograph by ASH

The first work on the programme, Balanchine’s “Haieff Divertimento,” has never before been seen outside of the United States, making the performance something of an event. Set to a jazzy, melancholic score by Alexei Haieff, the 1947 ballet melds American dance idioms with classical ballet steps, a hybrid that Balanchine would go on to refine throughout his career. Though the choreography offers little in the way of formal innovation, the work’s stripped-back aesthetic and angular movement hint at the neoclassical style that would define later masterpieces such as “Agon,” “Episodes,” and “Symphony in Three Movements.” As a result, “Haieff Divertimento” is a strangely exciting piece; one can almost sense Balanchine’s style forming.

No where is this as true in the pas de deux. At one point, the principal ballerina is pulled on and off one leg by her partner, twisting and extending the other in front of them. At another, the couple stand face to face while she balances en pointe and repeats low envelopes back. The music rushes on, she continues the same step; it is as if she is denouncing the passage of time and in turn making him (and us) remain with her in a moment of impossible stasis. Just as we are ready to stay there forever, she shifts, already plunging into a series of arabesques that advance directly towards us. We are no longer safe; the world is set in thrilling and dangerous motion again.

London City Ballet in “Haieff Divertimento” by George Balanchine. Photograph by ASH

Jimin Kim gave a fine performance as the principal ballerina, if not quite capturing the dance’s essence. In the arms of Alejando Virelles, she was more tentative than authoritative, somewhat muddling the work’s thrilling undertones. Her legs did not stop time; rather, they seemed to be politely asking what time it was. Nevertheless, she sparkled in the faster allegro sections, her smile megawatt and her footwork brilliant. The corps men and women also gave excellent performances, approaching the steps boldly and stretching every position to the max.

After last spring’s near disastrous Balanchine presentation by the Royal Ballet, it was a relief to see a British ballet company tackle Balanchine as he should be tackled: audaciously, without saving anything for later.

The programme’s second work, “Consolations & Liebestraum,” by Liam Scarlett, featured the star ballerina and London City Ballet guest artist Alina Cojocaru. If you are planning a comeback, it is not a bad idea to call up a ballerina like Cojocaru; just watching her bow reminded me of why I love dance and perhaps life itself. Rushing forwards, with a shy tilt of the head and an excited flutter of the feet, she is joy, laughter, love, and everything good in this world. It is impossible to explain exactly how she manages to convey such riches of emotion; her movement is so subtle, carved so deeply from within, that to apply words to it seems crude. To put it simply: her art exists in the moment and to witness it is a privilege.

Alina Cojocaru and Joseph Taylor in “Consolations and Liebestraum” by Liam Scarlett. Photograph by ASH

This fact was certainly not lost on her fellow dancers. Whether dancing with her in a pas de deux or simply appearing beside her onstage, you could sense the other performers fighting to rise to her level. They struggled, broke through, failed, succeeded; it made them better dancers and more interesting ones, too. In the Scarlett piece, Joseph Taylor was a valiant partner to Cojocaru, appearing to become more in tune with her needs as the work progressed. His devotion to her was touching, and made his own dancing all the more poignant. They pulled apart, came together again, seeming to demonstrate partners at different stages of a relationship. At times, they embraced violently; at others, tenderly.

The programme’s next work, “Soft Shore,” by rising choreographer and Premier Danseur at the Paris Opera Ballet Florence Melac, left less of an impression. It did not offend, yet it did not inspire either. Staged for four dancers, it repeated much of the same steps throughout, themselves regurgitations of popular contemporary choreography. The dancers shuffled on bent knees, contorted around each other in circular motions, and skidded happily across the stage on their socks. Constance Devernay-Laurence was a bold presence, confronting the audience with a domineering stare and attacking the steps with a resolve that never diminished. Yet even she couldn’t make the work interesting–when it was over, I felt tired, like I had woken from a restless nap.

Yuria isaka and dancers of the London City Ballet in “Pictures at an Exhibition” by Alexei Ratmansky. Photograph by ASH

Alexei Ratmansky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition” closed out the programme, with Cojocaru appearing in the role choreographed for Wendy Whelan shortly before her retirement from New York City Ballet in 2014. It was moving to see Cojocaru step into this part; Whelan’s peculiarity and delicacy are written all over it, making it impossible to forget her over a decade after she last performed it. Cojocaru brought those qualities and more, rendering the steps with such understated effort that when, a second or two later, the full effect of their image was felt, the impact was shocking. Outstretching one arm above her head, she gently turned her palm and head in opposite directions; it wasn’t until the movement was over that I understood a painful separation to have occurred.

Still, it was too late: she was already moving on to something else, her faint smile the only recognition of what had just passed. Once again, Cojocaru’s artistry seemed to lift those around her. Whether dancing alone or in ensemble, the cast hurled themselves into the choreography with a kind of ecstatic ferocity, channeling the wild, flickering spirit of Mussorgsky’s piano suite.

If a dancer sometimes missed a nuance or blurred a step, that was okay; they were too busy giving it their all. It was a thrilling close to a daring programme, and a bold statement from a company still finding its footing.

If this is what London City Ballet’s second season looks like, I can only imagine what the third might bring. I very much hope we all get to watch.

Phoebe Roberts

Phoebe Roberts is originally from New York where she trained with American Ballet Theatre and Leslie Browne. She danced with Béjart Ballet Lausanne before studying Russian at the University of St. Andrews, Scotland. She is currently pursuing a master’s in Gender Studies at the University of Cambridge. Her writing has previously appeared in the Los Angeles Review of Books, The Good Press, Glasgow, and Spectra Poets.

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