The first astonishing thing in an evening filled with marvels is the transformation of Symphony Hall’s normally austere stage into a smart little theatre complete with proscenium arch and orchestra pit (the latter a rarity) thus creating a perfect frame for two excellent ballets.
La Bayadere, with its score by Minkus and libretto by Petipa, is set in some mysterious hinterland (checked) between India and Persia and has a delectable touch of The Arabian Nights about it.


Immense tropical forests, temples and luxurious palace interiors float in and out on superbly painted backcloths, providing a fine setting for this tale of a doomed dancing girl - or bayadere - who falls for a handsome prince outside her social class, dies, then returns as a spirit, before he dies from a self administered cobra bite.


And if this all sounds familiar, think of Giselle without the grave, the cross and the bunch of lilies and there you have it. You may also be familiar with the third act where dozens of girls in white tutus descend to the stage via a couple of ramps escorting the Bayadere’s return.


Irina Kolesnikova, SPBT’s shining light, dances both main roles, with seemingly inexhaustible energy, rising superbly to the demands of the Bayadere herself and then returning within 24 hours, with a freshness which belies her daunting workload, to give us a thrilling Odette/Odile (those incredible second act spins delivered with nonchalant brilliance understandably left the Prince longing for more).


Her cavalier in both ballets was Dimitry Akulinin, a strong, handsome dancer with the high-flying classical style and the impressive leaps and panache we associate with the Russian companies…


But I have admired Kolesnikova’s genius on previous occasions and her star remains brightly in the ascendant, with a nomination for Best Female Dancer at the Critics Circle Dance Awards at the Royal Opera House on January 19.
In a strong company, Kolesnikova provides the crisp style which is the life blood of classical ballet and her presence is undoubtedly inspirational


When this Odette initially draws near to Akulinin’s sensitive Siegfried, she gazes with wonder into his eyes and so, with careful understatement in a chilly forest sparkling with frost, a love affair is indelibly established and the couple melt your heart.


Congratulations must also go to Dymchik Saykeev’s malevolent Von Rothbart. When he enters, the swan ladies cower and the moon turns red, indicating a cosmic alignment with earthly evil - a nice touch reminiscent of the Scottish play. Sadly, there is no final tragedy. After Von Rothbart departs this life minus a wing (his Achilles heel) the lovers reign happily ever after, probably Chekhov would have frowned.


The music on both evenings was held together very well by resident conductor Aleksandr Kantorov, who peppers these great events with resounding cymbal crashes, but does not neglect the exquisite violin solos Swan Lake demands.