Carmen came next, in a darkened prison cell presided over by masked jailers. A 1967 ballet, it had modern elements and not a tutu in sight. In it flirtatious gypsy Carmen is loved by both a prison guard and a toreador.
As well as the Bizet score, we heard music from Shchedrin, and one dance was done solely to stamping and clapping by the prison attendants.
Finally Fate, dressed in black, arrives to predicts Carmen's untimely end. Fatally shot, she collapses into the arms of one of her lovers.
The classic one-act ballet Les Sylphides came next, and had a poet wandering in a moonlit garden, enchanted by the dance of magical women in white. The music is from Chopin and there's no story as such - but lots of dancing en pointe, gauzy white dresses and an ethereal atmosphere.
Across the three performances scenery, costumes and acting were excellent, and the dancers were as light as thistledown.
It was an altogether satisfying feast. The opera house was full almost to capacity and people went home happy.