Asphodel Meadows/The Two Pigeons review: A split evening of showcasing sharp contemporary Royal Ballet choreography and a sugary romcom

This evening of two short productions is, as ballerina Laura Morera says in her programme notes, “everything the Royal Ballet is about.”

The first part, Asphodel Meadows, was the first work by Royal Ballet artist in residence Liam Scarlett, originally staged in 2010 when he was just 24. Taking its title from the part of the underworld in Greek mythology where all the ordinary people go, it places three dark clad couples at the heart of an ensemble of beige.

Each performs a pas de deux in the midst of a crowd of normies to Poulenc’s Concerto for Two Pianos in D Minor. The rises and falls are a quite literal interpretation of the music’s phrasing, set against a stark backdrop of monochrome streaks. The pas de deuxs, by contrast, are a glimpse into the sublime, weaving a story of passion and longing. It’s an impressionistic piece, finding a synthesis between music and movement.

After the interval comes some light relief in the form of a long-anticipated revival of Frederick Ashton’s The Two Pigeons. First performed in the 1960s when Ashton was the founder choreographer of the Royal Ballet, it hasn’t been in the repertory since 1985. It’s a two act morality tale inspired by a La Fontaine fable that opens with yet another couple, Young Man, an ambitious artist, and Young Woman, his playful muse. After spotting the eponymous feathered pests outside the studio window, the pair lark about in imitation of them, flapping their arms, until they’re entranced by a performance from a group of travellers.

The artist is especially transfixed by a young woman among them, an extraordinarily self-possessedLaura Morera, who leads the artist to the travellers’ camp. After a humiliation, the Young Man returns cap in hand to his studio to ask forgiveness from the lover he so thoughtlessly spurned.

Striking ensemble pieces, particularly in the travellers’ camp where the ROH costume department’s technicolour skirts take on a life of their own, add a touch of enticing cabaret to an otherwise sugary, unremarkable rom-com.