I recently caught Scottish Ballet warming up before a Saturday matinee of Aladdin at the Theatre Royal, Glasgow. After 15 years' absence from the company, it was unnerving to step from the world of Saturday shoppers in Sauchiehall Street onto the halflit, bare stage, stripped of all its paraphernalia of scenery and props.

The lithe, glamorous bodies I'd watched the night before in performance were now palefaced, drawn, swathed in layers of lycra and wool, intent on the daily struggle to motivate the reluctant instrument of their trade. I suddenly realised that while individual performances may come and go, it is really what goes on here, in class, that matters.

There's a curious sense of bonding amongst the dancers at this moment - their bodies slowly responding to the instructions of the ballet mistress.

"Here we go again" is the unspoken complaint, but it's one to which all dancers yield with necessary commitment. While we tend to think of the fate of dance companies resting in the hands of arts boards and funding bodies, the real foundation of the group lies in the daily class.

When I worked for the company between 1972 and 1986, it was still directed by its founder/choreographer Peter Darrell. Darrell had transplanted his Bristol-based Western Theatre Ballet to Glasgow in 1969, with a remit from the Arts Council of Great Britain to form a national ballet. At that time, the importation to Scotland of a ready-made company from England seemed to some to be a blatant colonialist manoeuvre. Yet by the time of Darrell's death in 1987, the company had been assimilated in its Scottish home and indeed outgrown its dependency on English models.

Scottish Ballet established itself in Glasgow as part of the national cultural life along with Scottish Opera, the Citizens' Theatre and the National Orchestra, forming its own school, producing its own crop of Scottish-trained dancers (some of whom perform with the company today).

There's no doubt that this success story relied on Darrell's extraordinary vision, one that was based on his reputation for radical experiments in dance theatre in the 1960s. He cunningly impressed his stamp on the national company by choosing dancers who could work together but who were in themselves highly individual performers. For a small company, made up of no more than 30 to 40 dancers, this was essential. It could never hope to compete in scale with the English lions of the Royal and English National Ballets.

The emphasis for Darrell lay on dance as a dramatic art form, and he brought to the classics, to Giselle, The Nutcracker, Swan Lake, a dramatic intelligence that made these 19th-century museum pieces relevant and accessible to modern audiences. At the same time, Scottish Ballet supported wide experimentation, inviting in guest choreographers from the modern dance world - such as Robert North, Christopher Bruce and Michael Clark - as well as encouraging young choreographers from within the ranks of the dancers.

In reality, of course, the company's status was not always assured. When I was touring with Scottish Ballet in the heyday of Darrell's jurisdiction, we always felt crisis was looming, as always seems to be the case for dance companies in these islands. Would we be awarded the yearly Arts Council grant? Would the company be imminently downsized?

Darrell established a place for a national company in a country not traditionally associated with ballet. I still recall the pioneering work that was done in the remotest areas of the country, as well as the development of an international reputation. Audiences from Wick to Hong Kong got to know the company as a very individual group that encouraged dance as "theatre" wherever it performed.

After Darrell's death, the company changed hands and changed size a number of times, and while it steadily improved in technical prowess, it never really settled on its artistic policy. Indeed, at times its very existence has been threatened. While the basis for a strong national dance company had been established 15 years ago, its turbulent history since that time means that the appointment in 1999 of the present artistic director, Robert North, marks only the beginning of a new stage of its life.

North is a distinguished choreographer from Canada, but he is in a position to establish continuities with Darrell's vision. For one thing, North is familiar with the ethos of the founder/director. He knew the company during the Darrell era, and mounted his own Water's Edge for Scottish Ballet at that time. North told me that one of his aims for the present company is to sustain the very incentives that Darrell had inspired.

I believe the company could do well to accentuate its legacy of dramatic dance. After all, Scotland's national ballet was initially known as Scottish Theatre Ballet, and in these post-modern days of multimedia and interactive forms, it would surely be an advantage to maintain a reputation for versatility in the performing arts.

By dramatic, I don't just mean the ability to act in a dramatic role. Many of the works performed by the company are purely abstract in content, but a dramatic dancer will spark communication that distinguishes his or her performance from the mere delivery of a complex physical vocabulary. As dancers become more streamlined and more athletic, they sometimes forego the exploration of this quality, which requires a sense of interiority, a "looking within" that paradoxically facilitates the dramatic impulse.

When watching company class, I was fascinated to notice a shift in emphasis in the training. Nowadays, class seems to offer a more enlightened attitude to the essentials of preparing the body for performance without straining it unduly. Yet although the technique and proficiency of the dancers, the quality of their extensions and the precision of their footwork seems to have improved since the mid-1980s, it was actually the "old-timers" - people who have remained with the company from the Darrell era - who incorporated from the very first exercise at the barre a sense of outward projection to an audience.

I could almost hear Darrell's most frequent exhortation in rehearsal: "More, darling, more!!"

In my visit to Glasgow, I saw a few dancers of world-class standard, and some dramatic talents really worth nurturing. But it takes time, expertise, money and vision to consolidate a national venture. After a long period of upheaval, we can foresee a time of relative stability. The major recent shift in organisation comes in the establishment of a joint Opera/Ballet Board. North assured me that the ballet gains security from its association with a larger company, while, in effect, the two companies will be economically autonomous.

But, as always, funding is difficult. The Scottish Arts Council's present grant to the company has been confirmed, and touring in Scotland as well as local educational projects, is guaranteed. But this funding only applies to performances given within the home country. Private sponsorship has gone into decline in recent years and it is intensely difficult to plan for touring outside Scotland. Even touring in England is problematic. Funds from the English Arts Council are only forthcoming in exchange for narrow restrictions on repertoire and venues.

Sustaining an international reputation was part of the success of Darrell's company. In these days of devolution and "the global village", surely part of a nation's sense of identity comes from exporting its cultural products and importing those of its neighbours? Scottish Ballet's return to Belfast is timely.

Scottish Ballet's production of Romeo and Juliet opens tonight at the Grand Opera House, Belfast and runs until Saturday. To book, phone 028-9024-1919.