The Kirov Ballet, The Lowry, Salford *****

The Kirov Ballet flew into Britain, bringing Swan Lake and La Bayadère, its visit neatly timed to coincide with The Lowry's third birthday. Both the company and its shows, you can always be sure, sell tickets. And these timeless ballets, equally surely, receive picture-postcard, textbook productions, staged with care and understanding, presented with brilliance and flair. No sign of a hooting live owl tethered to Rothbart's head, no psychotic dwarf, no knights in armour, no Big New Concept. All those who have been bamboozled by recent banal gimmicks designed to "enhance" Petipa's choreography (and Jan Fabre's bizarre take on the story for the Royal Ballet of Flanders drags itself unwillingly to my mind) should get themselves over to Salford immediately.

Whether it's a first or a 100th viewing of Swan Lake – and, to judge from the bursts of applause as various principals appeared, there were a lot of old Swan Lake hands here – this production is everything (nearly) you could hope for. With classic, uncluttered choreography and a line-up as impressive as any company can field, it's as good to look at for its prettiness as to admire for its impeccable footwork.

Of the leading dancers, Svetlana Zakharova is a stunning Odette/Odile, all high attitude and arabesque lines, dancing with cool precision on the one hand and dramatic assurance on the other. As a sophisticated White Swan, she shows astonishing control; everything that can be arched is gracefully shaped, every move poised. If she holds anything back in terms of allure as Odette, she abandons herself completely as the Black Swan, hypnotic in her pirouettes and dazzling in her fouettés.

Perhaps Ilya Kuznetsov's malevolent Rothbart inspired the devil in her, but she grows more obviously fired up as the plot unfolds. Kuznetsov is a commanding enchanter, as sinister when he is motionless as when he whirls, dervish-like, around Odile and Siegfried in Act III.

Igor Zelensky is an athletic Prince Siegfried, controlled in his turns, involving on his own, but always there for Zakharova. He, too, grows more intense with the increasing dramatic pace of the action, engaging our attention and even our sympathy as his character and unhappy situation develop. The enthusiastic soloists in the four national dances in Act III bring joie de vivre to their various colourful roles, reaching high in the Czardas and suggesting Mediterranean heat in the Neapolitan Dance. And the jester, Andrey Ivanov, a nimble if surprisingly sturdy clown, drew a big round of applause for his giddy spins.

The corps is terrific, too, and, whether as partying peasants or gliding swans, they have impeccable flexibility and discipline. Toward the close of Act IV, they swirl and sweep round the stage, begging, it would seem, for the overdue restoration of the work's tragic ending. Instead of pathos and power, however, we get a rather weak finale in the cosy conclusion tagged on by "revisionists". The harm they wreaked on the choreography and libretto is matched only by what Tchaikovsky's brother did in tweaking and "improving" the music. But mutilation apart, this is a Swan Lake of impeccable credentials, with plenty of memorable moments. It couldn't have been a better birthday celebration for The Lowry, which must be hoping for many happy returns.

The Kirov Ballet season continues at The Lowry with 'Swan Lake' in repertoire with 'La Bayadère' until Saturday (0870 787 5790). The Kirov returns with five programmes, 21 July to 9 Aug, Royal Opera House, London WC2 (020-7304 4000)