Graceful dance of the lens

In September 2000, Johan Persson's tibia splintered. Twenty years of lifting partners and carrying companies - first the Royal Swedish Ballet, then our Royal Ballet - had knackered both knees, putting the principal dancer, formerly one of ballet's ascending stars, into involuntary retirement. Luckily, Persson's loss was our gain.

Now a full-time photographer, Persson's eye is as sure as his foot ever was. His images are the 2002-2003 season and his metier is black and white, be it Gillian Revie, heavily pregnant at the barre, or a tunic-wearing Thomas Whitehead framed in a halo of light.

Persson's magic is his intimacy. His familiarity with his colleagues lends him the invisibility that lets him into the features of their faces. Not for him the fancy footwork or grand flourishes. He's more interested in those small triumphs - the scolding of the principal ballerina by the Grande Dame, Darcy Bussell daydreaming as her feet ghost the steps to the next act.

Ballet's calling card has always been the polished, poised press shot. But Persson humanises it, gives us the spit behind the polish. Which, more often than not, is a more mortal, but no less graceful dance.