The gleeful applause that follows a drone departing from the stage is but one of the bizarre moments of 10 Miniballetti. An impenetrable mass of feathers is swept into a joyful yet aimless whirlwind and dispersed across the stage (courtesy of the drone). A woman in a numbered red unitard (the sole human performer of the piece) dutifully performs warm-up exercises and jumps into the laps of spectators, with a playful if not wholly surprising intimacy. A liberal application of black paint and a final leap through the strewed feathers loosely gestures to Swan Lake imagery. It is a beautifully lit piece, creating shadows that latch onto the sculpted performer, and bathing her in a warm, Rembrandt-like glow. While an enjoyable visualisation of childhood imaginings, why an audience needed to see this self-realisation is perhaps not so clear. Vivid, but scattered.