New York City ballet: hits, misses and daring dancers

“Namouna” is one of Ratmansky’s finest works for New York City Ballet, where, it should be noted, he has choreographed several transcendent ballets, although he is the artist in residence at American Ballet Theater. To have two Ratmanskys this winter — the other was the spellbinding “Russian Seasons,” his first work for the company and the one that put him on the American map — felt both correct and calming: a lift in what must be trying times for the company. Ratmansky’s job may be at Ballet Theater, but judging from his works, his joy is at City Ballet.

“Namouna” is by turns comic, tender and full of whimsy. Where else do members of a corps de ballet high-five as they pass one another onstage? The action involves three muses — a chain-smoking temptress, an overheated diva and a fanciful kook — who each capture the attention of our hero.

While there were several debuts in various ballets at the David H. Koch Theater last week, those in “Namouna” were the most gratifying. Its hero is a sailor (at least that’s how he’s dressed), and in the case of Taylor Stanley on Friday, possessed of the kind of alluringly crisp petit allegro — those briskly knitted steps that Ratmansky is known for — that makes an audience swoon.

His chosen one — the kook — was brought to life by Lauren Lovette, in a debut that unleashed her character’s free spirit with a glittering, fluid command of the choreography’s quirky twists and turns. Lovette, especially this season, has proved herself a dancer who not only has fulfilled her early promise but also has become one you couldn’t imagine City Ballet without.

And she’s not the only one. With razor-sharp wit, Megan Fairchild, puffing away on a cigarette and then clearing the air with the silky wave of a hand, brought the glamour of a 1940s chorus girl to her debut. Her timing, in both her acting and dancing, was crystalline.

The elegant Emilie Gerrity, whose amplitude is growing if not yet blazing, made her debut ahead of schedule earlier in the week, filling in for Sara Mearns as the diva. On Friday, Mearns reclaimed her part, tearing across the stage fearlessly, as if possessed by the steps: She is the pillar of the company, a dancer who leaves everything she owns on the stage while realizing movement fully, all the way to her fingertips.

Alas, “Namouna” was part of “Here/Now,” a dog of a program that lasted nearly three hours. And for what? Neither Benjamin Millepied’s derivative “Neverwhere” nor Nicolas Blanc’s sophomoric “Mothership” warrant repeated viewings. And even Justin Peck, the company’s resident choreographer, is off his game with “The Decalogue.”

Set to music by Sufjan Stevens, “The Decalogue” has its moments — Mearns’ decisive finishing touches on the simplest of positions and Unity Phelan’s voluminous reach were reasons to perk up — but is a meandering, bloodless ballet. It was heartbreaking to see people leave before “Namouna,” which closed “Here/Now,” but who could blame them?

The second program, all Balanchine ballets set to Stravinsky, featured a weak link too: “Duo Concertant.” On Tuesday, Ashley Bouder’s precision served as a foil to Chase Finlay’s feathery approach; but the duet sunk into sentimentality. “Duo” should be programmed with care, not as filler, and it’s not the first time I’ve thought it should be shelved for a few seasons.

But dancers matter. On Saturday night, “Duo” was redeemed by Russell Janzen and Fairchild, who delivered a gloriously honest performance, unmarred by comment or affectation.

A more obvious challenge was Balanchine’s “Divertimento From ‘Le Baiser de la Fée,'” which begins as a sunny ballet, yet in the end is full of secrets as its lead couple slowly part on a darkened stage with outstretched arms.

Of its two new couples — Erica Pereira and Joseph Gordon on Tuesday; Tiler Peck and Anthony Huxley on Saturday night — all were debuts except for Peck. While the tiny Pereira showed moments of breadth, she couldn’t sustain them; as the ballet progressed her skimming steps were more clipped than seamless.

But Gordon’s dancing was an unselfconscious delight, and in his solo, he was like a bird released from a cage. Huxley and Peck, more like brother and sister than lovers, were measured and clean; despite their understated sense of poetry, they never gelled as a couple in such a subtle, fragile ballet.

“Agon” had its problems, too. Its central pas de deux, created for Arthur Mitchell and Diana Adams, was intended for a black man and a white woman. In 1957 that was a statement, and, at least in the ballet world, it still is. Skin color is as much a part of “Agon” as its Stravinsky score. (And that could be expanded on: What would the pas de deux look like if a black woman danced it with a white man?) This time around, there were no dancers of color in either cast; Maria Kowroski performed opposite Adrian Danchig-Waring in one, and Teresa Reichlen with Finlay, in his debut, in the other.

But that wasn’t the only reason the pas de deux was a shell of its actual self on Saturday night. Finlay moved stiffly and shakily from position to position with no sense of fortitude. Where was the tension between him and Reichlen? All that was left was the precariousness of their partnering, which was heart-stopping for all the wrong reasons.

The winter season left behind good memories too: Indiana Woodward’s heavenly debut as Juliet; Peck’s ravishing “Fall” in Jerome Robbins’ “The Four Seasons”; Peter Walker’s gangly-great dancing in “Agon”; the steady, rising star that is Phelan.

That list is far from complete. But what stuck out the most was the newfound brilliance of Adrian Danchig-Waring. There’s a patience in the way he holds his body that seems to stretch time. He’s so clear, so refined yet not quite of this world. Something has broken free in him, and it feels like a whiff of the spring to come.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.