MIAMI CITY BALLET.

MIAMI CITY BALLET JACKIE GLEASON THEATER OF PERFORMING ARTS MIAMI BEACH, FLORIDA OCTOBER 1-3, 1999 REVIEWED BY GUILLERMO PEREZ

Special expectations arise any time Miami City Ballet stages Prodigal Son. It's not just that this early Balanchine choreography stands in contrast to the rest of the troupe's neoclassical repertory, a keen edged narrative among sleek abstractions. The lead role also has an intimate association with artistic director Edward Villella, who triumphed in the work's 1960 revival at New York City Ballet.

A passing of the mantle, then, marked this season's opening program when Franklin Gamero as the Prodigal stepped beyond the paternal threshold of Rouault's set and leapt aloft on the Prokofiev score toward the wild, wild world. A even-tempered dancer, Gamero offered not so much a series of flashy moments as a steady, sometimes contemplative passage from rebellion to ravishment to repentance. His seduction by the Siren, though, scintillated through the predatory stance and advances of a keyed-up Iliana Lopez. The gruesome companions created a phantasmagorical atmosphere for the couple's entwinements, all giving distinctive immediacy to a piece that towers as a historical monument.

Continuing the theme of parents and prodigals, La Casa de Bernarda Alba condensed the original 1936 play by Federico Garcia Lorca into a one-act archetypal struggle. Jimmy Gamonet De Los Heros's choreography, which premiered last year, provided metaphors in poses and formations For the clash of intolerance and unbridled desire, represented by the rule of an iron-fisted matriarch (the forceful Michelle Merrell) and the impetuousness of her youngest daughter Adela (Marife Gimenez in a robust portrayal). The impact of regimented movement was greatly aided by Haydee Morales's black dresses for the repressed women and Robert Perdziola's set, the gray back wall evoking a mausoleum. Richard Adler's music remained more problematic, its general thrust supporting the action yet certain passages highlighting it with unneeded hyperbole.

After such gloom, the brightness of the closing Balanchine numbers encouraged squinting. All the better in the case of that bravura vehicle, Theme and Variations, which was vigorous enough in its sweep but fuzzy in the details.

Eyes wide open, however, were demanded by Glinka Pas de Trois--pretty and oh, so smart. Paige Fulleton and Mary Carmen Catoya spun and bounded through this with delicacy and brio. Arnold Quintane, from propulsion to landings, put in all the right accents whether harmonizing or sustaining the high notes. Playfulness and power turned this trio into a bouquet of lyrics carried by the breeze.