In fact, in the 113 years since the St Petersburg premi? there have been just two productions that by their quality, style and influence, stood out.One was Serge Diaghilev’s at the Alhambra Theatre, London, in 1921-22. He gave it the full works, supplementing his company with Russian guest stars and junior recruits, and having the former Maryinsky Theatre ballet-master, Nicholas Sergeyev, mount it with notation he brought from St Petersburg.The staging was lavish, with opulent designs by Leon Bakst (although the dancers found the costumes too heavy). The outcome was not absolutely authentic – Stravinsky reorchestrated passages, Bronislava Nijinska did new choreography, and, bizarrely, three dances from The Nutcracker were introduced – but mostly Diaghilev seems to have succeeded in giving western audiences their first real understanding of imperial classicism.This eventually had an immense influence on British ballet. Ninette de Valois was inspired by Diaghilev’s example when she formed the Vic-Wells (later Royal) Ballet a decade later, to invite Sergeyev to mount several of the old classics, although not Beauty.

That had to wait until 1939, when she had a bigger troupe with more experienced dancers and a slightly bigger stage at Sadler’s Wells. Even then it was only a limited success until transformed by the company’s move to Covent Garden in 1946.That 1946 production lasted for 25 years and was staged, in London and on tour, 1058 times, becoming probably the work’s most successful ever. It provided the company’s signature, introducing it to many countries; moreover, almost all later productions of The Sleeping Beauty in Britain, and many others worldwide, have been based on it, though none have proved as durable.The first Aurora was the best: Margot Fonteyn. There is a belief (fostered by her own self-critical nature) that she lacked technique Don’t believe it She fooled people by making it look easy. Bear in mind that it was she who introduced the long balances that everyone looks for today. And her musicality made her timing just about perfect.But what mattered most was the meaning she gave her dances and the way she developed her interpretation over the years She danced the role more often than anyone. Her performance was always joyously satisfying and never grew tired, although surprisingly she said this was the ballet she liked least of all.There were many other fine Auroras with the Royal Ballet, especially in early days: the Russian smoothness of beautiful Violetta Elvin, the poised white-wigged austerity of Alicia Markova, and the romance of Svetlana Beriosova.

But after Fonteyn, two ballerinas from St Petersburg stood out: cool, classical Irina Kolpakova, when the Kirov first brought it here in 1961, and recently Altynai Asylmuratova, who had many qualities similar to Fonteyn.St Petersburg provided the best men for Beauty, too: Rudolf Nureyev the most elegantly expressive Prince, and unmatched in the last solo; his contemporary, Yuri Soloviev, a most soaring Bluebird.Equally, nobody who saw Covent Garden’s first Lilac Fairy, Beryl Grey, could wish for better, and what about Leslie Edwards as the court chamberlain Catalabutte, with the politest swagger imaginable?’The Sleeping Beauty’, Royal Opera House, London WC2, (020-7304 4000), from Saturday. STRINDBERG’S BRAND of dark, lacerating comedy makes most other playwrights’ idea of what is pitch-black look merely mauve. And he’s brilliant at demonstrating how the same thing can oscillate in our perceptions between looking like a howling tragedy and a howlingly funny joke. He also understands, most acutely, how tragedy may often be the preferable option. In a strange way, it gives you a quieter life than existential farce Jokes can be more painful than pain.