The Pennsylvania Ballet presents 'Grace and Grandeur'

Petipa’s “Paquita” is one of those interesting anomalies in dance. In 1846, choreographer Joseph Mazilier created the Spanish-themed story ballet for the Paris Opera. The next year, Petipa staged it as his first work for the Imperial Ballet. In 1881, he revived the ballet with additional choreography, including the “Grand Pas Classique,” which highlights the soloists, and new music by Ludwig Minkus. Today the full ballet is seldom performed, but Petipa’s addition is a popular part of the repertoire.

The "Grand Pas" celebrates the women of the company, and the four demi-soloists were exquisite. Mayara Piniero and Arian Molina Soca (the only male dancer in the piece) performed the pas de deux with brio. But the corps was not as sharp I would have liked, and the performance felt underwhelming.

Four men

Christopher Wheeldon’s 2006 “For Four,” set to Franz Schubert’s “Death and the Maiden,” gave equal time to the company’s men. The work highlighted the virtuosity of four great male dancers, trained in four different national styles, with four different strengths. One of those dancers, Angel Corella, now leads the Pennsylvania Ballet as its artistic director.

I was not impressed the last time Pennsylvania Ballet performed “For Four.” In 2016, I said, “Each dancer seemed to dance in his own head, as if the other dancers and the audience weren’t there.” Happily, that was not the case here.

Some of the performances were not technically perfect, though Peter Weil’s pirouettes were spot-on and Jermel Johnson seemed to defy gravity.

But I was glad for the few rough edges. There is a sense of camaraderie this year, the intrusions into solos almost teasing, giving meaning to entrances that could seem random. The dancers, engaging with each other, invited us in as well.

Saving the best for last

Start to finish, George Balanchine’s “Themes and Variations” was glorious, easily the evening’s highlight. Balanchine, trained at the Imperial Theater School for ballet and drawn into the Russian avant-garde at an early age, had an instinct for combining the two sensibilities. His dances are as surprising as they are grounded in classic technique.

Set to Tchaikovsky’s Suite No. 3 for Orchestra in G Major, Op. 55, the piece fuses classic, Petipa-inspired opulence and quick, sharp, Balanchine movement. When done right, his work always seems to be the most modern thing onstage.

The corps’ women redeemed themselves with this performance. Four groups of three created glittering shapes and combinations while never losing the quick, fluttering beat of their feet. Their bejeweled, lavender-blue tutus trembled like butterflies.

Lead dancers Dayesi Torriente and Sterling Baca outshined the rhinestones on their costumes. Torriente showed strength and grace in an arabesque en pointe, supported by the upraised hands of the dancers on either side of her and then alone as they dropped away. Baca’s powerful lifts seemed light and effortless.

The finale bedazzled, as the men, in military-style jackets, joined the dance in a grand Polonaise. Ending in a fireworks display of lifts in the corps, Torriente ruled high above her musical kingdom on Baca’s shoulder.

The Pennsylvania Ballet was founded as a Balanchine company. Since Corella took over as artistic director that emphasis has changed, and to be frank, I am not entirely sorry. After one performance a few years ago, I told a friend that if I never again saw The Four Temperaments, it would be too soon.

But Balanchine technique has also been dismissed. The Balanchine Foundation’s stager, answering an audience member’s question about it during a pre-performance discussion, claimed not to know what she meant, although the term is specifically credited in the program. It may seem that Balanchine’s sun is setting.

However, “Theme and Variations” makes a strong argument that, like Petipa himself, Balanchine will always be with us. The repertoire may need a winnowing, but the best — and there is a lot of that — is as vibrant as it ever was.

But there is another truth about Balanchine, which reminds us of Longfellow's rhyme about the little girl with the little curl: when it is good, it is very, very good, and when it is bad, it is horrid. If you are going to do Balanchine, you need to commit 100 percent, as the Pennsylvania Ballet did this week, because his choreography is unforgiving.