La Fille mal gardée features a real live pony, so it’s probably the best ballet ever. Some friends of mine were so enamoured of the previous incumbent of the role, a snow-white scene stealer called Peregrine, that they organised a veg-forward bouquet (cabbage, carrots, the odd apple), presented to him by Dame Darcey Bussell.
Peregrine has now retired to Scotland, so the mantle passes to Oscar – also snowy, also cute, also prone to doing a poo on stage. Pity the ambitious young dancer who spends the night trailing a pony with pan and brush. But it captures the appeal of this endearingly bucolic show. Unlike most classics – fraught tragedies or fairy tales – Frederick Ashton’s 1960 creation is an everyday ballet of country folk.
