You don’t know ballet until you’ve heard pointe shoes tap the stage before you. On Friday, June 13th, the velvet curtains of Casino du Liban opened to a sight Lebanon rarely sees: Swan Lake performed by the internationally acclaimed Moscow Ballet La Classique. The first of three nights was nothing short of a masterpiece, leaving the audience suspended somewhere between dream and reality.

With the first notes of Tchaikovsky’s score, the lights dimmed, and time stood still. As the iconic melodies echoed through the theatre, you could hear audience members instinctively humming the familiar notes of the graceful Swan Theme. But soon, the hums fell silent. The music took over. Tchaikovsky did more than just accompany the dancers; he was their puppeteer.

The dancers moved as if their souls were tethered to the music. Every battement, every tendu, every arabesque was executed with a precision that spoke of countless hours in the studio in pursuit of perfection. Every muscle, every inch of their bodies, vibrated with purpose. Even their exquisitely flowing costumes seemed to dance with a life of their own.

Then came the court jester, who stole hearts and laughter alike. With his impeccable comedic timing and energy, he became a crowd favourite, bringing moments of levity and charm that made the performance feel complete. Each time he vanished, eyes would scan the stage, eager for his return.

While Odette and her Prince carried the core of the story, it was impossible not to be struck by the astonishing discipline of the corps de ballet. They stood still for what felt like impossible spans of time, statuesque yet alive. The audience held their breath with them as they added weight, symmetry, and emotion with nothing but presence. Their quiet glances, subtle movements, and seamless harmony with the lead dancers amplified the emotional depth of each scene. They didn’t steal the spotlight; they only made it brighter.

What truly sets a live ballet apart is the sheer amount of emotion it pours into its audience. A single glance from the Swan Queen, a precisely timed flutter of a foot… Rothbart, the dark sorcerer, emerged whenever smoke curled across the stage, rising like a shadow from the mist, his presence leaving a chill in the air. Together, they made the audience feel it all. No behind-the-scenes documentary, no novel, no film or series can replicate the alchemy of watching Swan Lake unfold before your very eyes.

Russian ballet is but a language without words, a love story written with bodies in motion. And despite the rising tensions, despite the outbreak of war that had ignited above our heads as the performance took place, the show went on. And inside, just for a few rare hours, the audience was allowed to forget. They were simply there, together: consumed by beauty, breathless in the face of art, lost in a moment that asked nothing of them but to feel.

Then the curtain fell. And everyone went back to the real world.

But for that one evening, Swan Lake granted a few hours of peace. And that alone made it unforgettable.