In a rose pink dress and champagne-coloured shoes which blended with her skin tone and made her look almost nude, the focus was very much on her luscious body in very graceful motion. They were both less rough-edged than usual, her toes were more pointed, her movements tighter, cleaner — and I was watching from the front row, from close to. He wore black, like a stage hand, silently and unobtrusively placing the flats, positioning the scenery, creating the backdrop. Having seen her dance socially with a number of different fellow-professionals lately, I was especially struck by the special qualities of their partnership, the way that he, with his energetic but simple, never flamboyant dance, sets up frames which she fills with musical decoration and play, hints and suggestions which she takes and runs with, as they choose, together, which parts of the music to emphasise, which details to linger deliciously over. He is like the ideal pianist, accompanying the singer with tact and discretion and unobtrusive virtuosity, making every note sound richer and fuller.