Suzanne Farrell Stages Balanchine.

Nothing and no one could hope to live up to the hype and high expectations that preceded Suzanne Farrell's week of Balanchine ballets, yet Farrell rose above the hype and rode the wave of expectations to triumph. Her week was a hit with both the local audience and with New Yorkers suffering from Balanchine withdrawal; what seemed like busloads of out-of-towners converged on the Kennedy Center over the weekend. Even Saturday night's hourlong conversation with Farrell, conducted by George Jackson with his accustomed unflappable charm, sold out. [See Presstime News, page 30.]

Assisted by Victoria Simon, Farrell staged seven Balanchine works for Washington Ballet, augmented by apprentices, four dancers borrowed from New York City and Fort Worth ballets, and a small group of principals drawn from other American and European companies. That Farrell and Simon could stage seven ballets in a few weeks on such young dancers is, in itself, a minor miracle. That they could meld such disparate dancers into a convincing whole is another. The stagings themselves were solid; the ballets had been shaped and set with care. Although there was some miscasting of principal roles (or perhaps casting compromises), much of the dancing was glorious, and the dancers grew in confidence and daring through the week.

The two standout performances were by Elena Pankova in Scotch Symphony and Susan Jaffe in Mozartiana. Pankova, now with Munich Ballet, had worked with Farrell on Scotch at the Kirov several seasons back. She was lovely then, youthful and tentative and dewy. Since then, her technique and projection have matured; in Washington she was a wild forest creature, dangerous and irresistible. Jaffe's sublime dancing in Mozartiana seemed to come from nowhere. On opening night, she imitated Farrell too closely, turning mannerism - a reaching arm, a tossed head - into choreography. By the third performance she had shed her Farrell skin. Her dancing captured both the ballet's coltish playfulness and its piety, but she had found her own way to do both, and, in so doing, acquired a soul.

Peter Boal partnered both Pankova and Jaffe and danced with Jaffe again in Chaconne's secondary pas de deux. He, too, was tight in the first performance of Mozartiana, his dancing more earthly than angelic, and he seemed troubled by the partnering. But he, too, became freer and more secure as the week went on, proof, if any was needed, that dancers master roles through repeated performances. Boal was more comfortable in Scotch Symphony, which he has danced with NYCB. Quiet, and noble, lost in this beautiful, bizarre world that's half La Sylphide and half Brigadoon, he seemed mesmerized by Pankova's Sylph, the freedom of her dancing releasing him as well.

Monumentum Pro Gesualdo and Movements for Piano and Orchestra were the central ballet, between Mozartiana and Slaughter on Tenth Avenue, on the opening-night program. Washington Ballet bodies are not Balanchine bodies, and astringent Stravinsky is not their usual fare, yet the dancing in Monumentum/Movements was disciplined and clear. Maria Calegari, with her ropey limbs and spooky eyes, danced the ballerina roles; the pas de deux, with WB's Hagop Kharatian, was electric.

Kharatian, a slight, intense dancer, also put the sizzle in Tzigane, the center of the second program, between Scotch and Chaconne. Helene Alexopoulos, as the Gypsy-Farrell in Tzigane (Calegari also danced the part) and the Strip Tease Girl-Farrell in Slaughter, had the legs, but not the smoldering innocence, for both ballets. Since WB's John Goding made a leaden Hoofer, Slaughter was the week's disappointment.

Though nicely danced by the soloists and corps, Chaconne also suffered from pedestrian principals. Marie-Christine Mouis, who alternated the part with the Stuttgart's Marion Jager, lacked both stamina and poetry. Stuttgart's Tamas Detrich underdanced the male lead, and his flashing smile and flicked wrists were out of place even in rococo Balanchine.

The overall presentation of these ballets was so strong that miscastings and misfires didn't much matter. Balanchine's work has survived far worse, and it was the ballets, not the dancers - not even Farrell - who were the week's real star. At a time when balletomanes pray for choreographers, Farrell's week showed that ballet can survive without choreographers, and even without stars, as long as it has ballet masters. It's the ballet masters who make ballets live for an audience, who inspire dancers and set them free. Suzanne Farrell is a ballet master.