We have Sir Frederick Ashton to thank for the “English style” of ballet: its elegant precision, lyricism and keen musicality. Ashton’s lightness, deftness and the sparkling repartee of his footwork is much in evidence in this triple bill launching a four-year global celebration of the choreographer’s work, 120 years after his birth. The choreographer’s output was huge: more than 100 ballets across seven decades. Here are just three of them. Les Rendezvous, from 1933, hasn’t been danced for nearly 20 years. This revival is redesigned by Jasper Conran with restrained beauty and four buttery yellow dresses that would make some bridesmaids very happy. Its al fresco setting makes it like a garden party in a world of polite privilege where everything is just delightful. Marianela Nuñez looks like she might pop with joy as she swirls past a princely Reece Clarke. But underneath the genteel surface is a tapestry of patterning and invention and quietly athletic feats. While much modern ballet gives us legs and bodies at extravagant angles, with Sir Fred it really is about the steps: the feet are always tapping or humming or busily beating along with the melody. Another gorgeous set is the wooded glade of The Dream (1964). The Shakespeare ballet is considered a masterpiece by many, so it may be sacrilegious to say it always seems a tad long. However, tonight it is so well danced. Royal Ballet legend and original Oberon Anthony Dowell has coached the principals and, stepping into his shoes, Marcelino Sambé rises to the role, with mystery and scheming behind his eyes. Francesca Hayward is the haughty Titania he spars with. Joshua Junker makes a great Bottom, full of personality even when wearing an ass’s head, but Daichi Ikarashi’s properly puckish Puck steals it, with his spiky, spritely leaps, not of the human world. Ikarashi is only in his early 20s but this season he will also make his debut in the effervescent Rhapsody, which closes this triple bill – although tonight it is another young dancer, Taisuke Nakao, who flies through the steps like a skimming stone, leaving little trace. Everywhere in Ashton’s work there is just enormous pleasure in the act of dancing.