Adam Cooper faces the photographer and rises on crossed demi-point. Simultaneously, a row of four seated females from The Sunday Times and Royal Ballet administration leans forward with interest. His balance is rock-still perfect, his arms extend as if embracing the air and all the people beyond it. He was right to dismiss the glycerine that Janine, the ballet press officer, had brought for glistening Chippendales-skin effect, because his pectorals look marvellous matt. Now he puts on a ruffled shirt, as broodingly romantic as you would expect from a man about to dance Cranko’s Onegin. Never mind that the shirt actually comes from MacMillan’s Manon. The camera shutter clicks, and the flash, magnified by four other lamps, explodes for the nth time in the spacious,
Adam Cooper Interview
He’s the swan that flew the nest, but Adam Cooper is starring again at the Royal Ballet. Nadine Meisner catches up with a dancer who won’t be typecast