Ms. Farrell goes to Washington.

WASHINGTON--Suffering hadn't diminished Suzanne Farrell's attention to detail, She was dressed simply and elegantly that crisp December evening in 1989, and even among the dolled-up, star-studded crowd that had assembled at the Kennedy Center for its annual honors presentation, she looked exceptional. Occasionally, as she raised a glass to her lips or gazed at that year's dance honoree, the great Alexandra Danilova (an example for her of what a ballerina must be), a faint smile would appear. Then this sign of pleasure would pass, replaced by an earnest expression in her eyes and a brave set of her head--no ballerina at a party but a heroic figure in a personal tragedy.

Last August, a totally different Farrell in a totally different mode entered a large, brightly lit studio at Kennedy Center to give her ballet class to twenty-eight waiting girls. There was much work to be done, and Farrell had a unique air of thoughtfulness, urgency, and composure about her. Again she looked exceptional, dressed in black dancewear with, as is her classroom custom, a flowered, fringed shawl tied below her waist (to be removed when she began to demonstrate).

Reminded of her appearance that night in 1989 Farrell says that, of course, it could have been her recent retirement from dancing that had made her unhappy--but, flashing a warm smile, she adds that her second hip replacement hadn't taken place and perhaps physical pain had caused her suffering. Apart from an aside about how wonderful it was to be active again, it wasn't about herself that she spoke when interviewed after the two-hour class but about her current assignment.

Throughout August, Farrell was teaching students intensively again. Rehearsals with some principal dancers for Kennedy Center's Balanchine Project had already begun (Maria Calegari, former principal of New York City Ballet, had joined the students for that morning's class). Plans were for all the principals to gather in New York City early in September and then move to Washington on September 11 for full rehearsals of the seven Balanchine ballets to be performed at the Kennedy Center Opera House, October 17-22. There will be two all-Balanchine bills: Program A, consisting of Mozartiana, Monumentum/Movements, and Slaughter on Tenth Avenue, will be performed October 17 and 18, with matinees on October 21 and 22. Program B, consisting of Scotch Symphony, Tzigane, and Chaconne, will be performed on October 19, 20 and 21.

Dancers from Mary Day's Washington Ballet form the nucleus of the project. Asked whether she thinks they are Balanchine types, Farrell replied that it is more essential for them to have local roots; she doesn't care for "that guest artist look." Because additional forces are required for an endeavor of this scope--and because time is short--she has had to invite some outside dancers. Some of them she knows from having staged Balanchine ballets around the world; others she picked because she's seen what they can do. Along with Calegari, these include Peter Boal and Helene Alexopoulos of NYCB, Yelena Pankova of the Kirov and Munich ballets, Tamas Detrich and Marion Jager of Stuttgart Ballet, and American Ballet Theatre's Susan Jaffe (a Maryland native who trained in the Washington suburbs). Victoria Simon, a veteran stager of Balanchine, will assist. Ron Matson from Cincinnati will conduct the Kennedy Center Opera House orchestra.

The hardest thing for Farrell in keeping Balanchine alive isn't getting dancers to do the steps correctly. It's far more difficult to teach the cast his musicality, his sense of dynamics, and his way with energy. How to listen, not just how to dance, is part of the Farrell curriculum.

Farrell herself had to learn how to look at dances from the outside instead of from the inside, as if she were still one of the dancers. In other words, she's come to know what it feels like to be an audience. Moving beans of different colors around on a table top helps her memorize floor patterns. Unlike beans, though, dancers are unique; sometimes one must mold steps to the individual to make the choreography look vital and right. Balanchine did this often. Stagers should do so only when necessary. "If I go amiss," she says, "he will let me know."

Judging from the class Farrell has just taught, she knows how to give others the essence of a step, a phrase, a dance. There was random energy in the room before she entered. First she calmed the girls by example. At times her seriousness seemed like religious devotion. Then she challenged the students, getting them to concentrate by giving different speeds and counts. Corrections consisted of example, of manipulation, and in some cases of outright obstruction, such as placing herself so close to a pupil that the girl was forced to move at the correct angle to avoid hitting her. She dispatched that sort of interference with good humor.

Farrell's Balanchine Project does fill an immediate need; because of irreconcilable orchestral conflicts, NYCB has not visited the Washington area for years. If the project is a hit, will there be a sequel? Kennedy Center's director of programming Sheldon Schwartz calls it a one-time event. Both the project and Farrell's classes were launched under the auspices of James D. Wolfensohn, current chairman of Kennedy Center, who will become chairman emeritus next year. Wolfensohn is expected to remain active in Kennedy Center affairs. There may be surprises in store.