A jewel in the English National Ballet's crown: Giselle reviewed

Since its première in Paris in 1841, Giselle has weathered a bumpy ride. For St Petersburg in 1884, Petipa gave Coralli and Perrot’s original choreography the once-over and Fokine grafted on further innovations when Diaghilev brought the ballet to London in 1911. Despite casts led by Pavlova, Karsavina and Nijinsky, it bombed here with critics and audiences, who considered its archetypal Victorian plot of the innocent village maiden betrayed by the local squire prissy and musty. Only a generation later, when the likes of Markova and Ulanova assumed the title role, did the scenario’s mythic simplicity find new life, albeit in versions that departed quite radically from the primary text.

At least there were human musicians in the pit and not just some speakers broadcasting a recording

First seen in 1971, Mary Skeaping’s production shines on as one of the few jewels remaining in English National Ballet’s sadly denuded crown (a more enlightened Arts Council would be helping the company broaden its dismally narrow repertory). Deleting many of the inauthentic accretions, Skeaping restored what can be recovered of the mimed episodes created in 1841, reordered the sequence of the first act, and bolstered Adam’s likable score with tinkles by Minkus and Bürgmuller, as well as introducing an incongruously galumphing fugal passage into the spirit world of the second act. Not everyone approves, but the dramatic situation is clearly and sensitively delineated and David Walker’s pastoral designs remain warmly attractive. If only the lighting for the spectral nocturnal apparitions could be made more subtle.