Ballet-going can be a gamble at this time of year. It ought to be cause for celebration that so many smaller troupes from the former Soviet Union converge on provincial UK theatres during the winter months, bringing the art form to audiences that otherwise don`t get a sniff at a pointe shoe. But the reality is that any old collection of also-rans can call themselves the Ballet Stars of Nowhereburg and deliver an experience that creaks.


What a treat, then, to discover St Petersburg Ballet Theatre, a bona fide group now 10 years old which sources its talent from the Vaganova Academy (the same stable as the Kirov) and boasts at least one principal dancer of world calibre.


Why the wonderful Irina Kolesnikova wasn`t snapped up by Russia`s premier company straight from school is a mystery only partly explained by what every Russian knows about the power of \"personal influence\" in modern Russia.


Kolesnikova has supermodel looks, a glittering technique and all the big classical roles in her lap. The only danger is that Ballet Theatre`s touring schedule - currently 24 UK towns and cities in 15 weeks - will dance her into the ground.


Swan Lake shows off her qualities best: her Odile is no fragile, shrinking thing but a sleek, strong creature, exulting in her own length and flex of limb as much as she is trapped in misery. Among the scores of interpretations I`ve seen, only one, the Kirov`s Uliana Lopatkina, another tall ballerina, has taken the White Swan`s Act II adagio at so daringly slow a speed.


Kolesnikova`s supreme technical control makes this possible, while her Garbo-like smoulder creates a transfixing allure, both regal and unbearably tender.


And this Swan Lake, though thoroughly old-school and Russian-mannered, is full of warm and lively touches. It has a jester (Dmitry Shevtsov) who is genuinely funny, a loveable young blade of a prince (Yuri Gloukhikh) and a glittering Rothbart (Dymchik Saykeev) who pulls off his unlikely role - part evil wizard, part pantomime crow - with incredibly sexy panache.