The three horsemen of summer — joy, warmth, and nostalgia — drive Pacific Northwest Ballet’s Director’s Choice, a handful of ballets specially chosen by PNB Artistic Director Peter Boal to close out the company’s 52nd season, which runs through June 8.

But for all their glitter and gold, the three ballets that compose the program also carry with them an undercurrent of DOOM and UNRESTING DEATH. Far from feeling overbearing, that tonal contrast chimes well with the current seasonal and political climate we’re all experiencing in this corner of the country. Though it’s nice that the light is returning once again to our dark village, it also allows us to see that the last six months were not some weird nightmare. We really are in the middle of a hostile government takeover, and the institutions we’ve shored against our ruin are crumbling.

But they’re not ruins yet! And I don’t mean to go too far down That Road. I only mean to say that the program’s undercurrent of DOOM adds necessary heft to its summer-nights vibe, prompting us to peer beyond the headlines and to ask ourselves deeper questions, such as: What’s it like to be entering the world of ballet in this moment of great uncertainty? What’s it like to be observing this art in the 21st century? Incidentally, did anyone stop to watch the band ~play on~ as the Titanic sank?? And then to answer ourselves with the special intensity that follows a pint of prosecco at intermission: terrifying and wonderful, the same as it ever was, and who wouldn’t?! 

Speaking of wonder, PNB Associate Artistic Director Kiyon Ross’s …throes of increasing wonder kicked off opening night with a blast of electric energy. In this ballet, half the company’s dancers streak across the stage in sliver and neon outfits that share a colorway with any given pair of LA Gear sneakers circa 1988. 

The first 10 minutes of this piece feature a lot of unbridled, syncopated joy as dancers seem to race to keep up with composer Cristina Spinei’s manic violins. In all the hubub, soloist Clara Ruf Maldonado turned in the first of her several incredible performances Friday evening — she was pure satin and steel. Not to be outdone, corps de ballet dancers Juliet Prine and Destiny Wimpye demonstrated their ability to leap like gazelles. And corps de ballet dancer Zsilas Michael Hughes spun and jumped onstage for all of 20 seconds, nearly stealing the whole show with the sheer power of their magnetism. 

I say “nearly” stole the show because that distinction belongs to principals Jonathan Batista and Angelica Generosa. Once the violins slowed to a sob and a deep purple light flooded the stage, Generosa more or less beautifully fainted into Batista’s arms for several minutes — but not in a swoony, romantic way. It was as if she was dancing alone and he was playing her guardian angel; catching her as she swept perilously low to the ground, plucking her out of the air before she leapt too far, lifting her high when exhaustion threatened to bring her low. A stunning duet about the depths of friendship.

True to form, the set for choreographer and dancer Rena Butler’s world premiere, Cracks, looked like the ruins of the last ballet. The curtain legs were pulled back to expose the auditorium’s bare wings, flies, and klieg lights. The pools of solid color that made up the backdrops of so many scenes in …throes of increasing wonder were busted up into a kaleidoscope pattern reminiscent of broken stained glass. Fittingly, the great Tudor Choir sang haunting, gorgeous choral music while a dozen or so dancers dressed up like Velma from Scooby Doo for some reason (yellow polo, orange skirt) moved variously like pious, awkward Catholic school teens and graceful swans. The unsettling sound of settling rubble or cracks beginning to form in the ceiling troubled the dancers — and the audience — as they took turns trying to stand out in a crowd. 

And stand out they did. Principal Elle Macy dazzled with a spasmodic solo that seemed specially designed to highlight her particular expressions of strength, fluidity, and control. In one riff, she did a slow backend that ended in the splits that then turned into a kind of lotus position that she somehow frog-jumped out of and landed on her feet. In another moment, Hughes just kinda casually spun 80 times in the corner of the stage while nobody was looking, like some prodigy doing calculus in a 3rd grade math class. Nutso stuff. 

The exposed set and the back-to-school costumes combined with the chorale music to form a question that went something like: We keep feeding a bunch of young, ambitious, idealistic artists into our crumbling institutions — why are we doing that? The sheer talent displayed by the dancers and the sheer genius of Butler’s relatively profound diversion answers the question: because we always have! Even as poetry or dance or theater may come off as dusty or antique — even and maybe especially to the initiated — and even as their institutions undergo dramatic change, we will always have them no matter what new hell our political overlords unleash. Ballet flourished during world wars, famines, plagues and every other disaster the universe has thrown at it, and it will continue to flourish through the next ten wars, plagues, and famines –because these arts are machines designed to refresh language, movement, and the imagination. As pattern-seeking organisms who crave novelty in those realms, we’re always going to need that. 

Speaking of world wars, after Cracks wrapped up, most of the crowd Benjamin-Buttoned into their high school selves as the company eased into Twyla Tharp’s Nine Sinatra Songs, which returned Generosa — now in a pair of pink pumps — to the stage along with principal Dylan Wald. The two served up a classy duet to “Softly As I Leave You” without breaking a sweat. A parade of ballet-infused ballroom dances followed, with several standouts. Soloist Madison Rayn Abeo moved with exacting command as she bossed around corps de ballet dancer Ryan Cardea in a hilarious and impressive bit of dancing to “Something’ Stupid.” And it’s hard to match the verve of corps de ballet dancer Juliet Prine spinning across the stage in a bright fuchsia flamenco dress, but corps de ballet dancer Noah Martzall proved himself up to the task in their rendition of “Forget Domani.” As it turns out, Sinatra’s little dramas of love lost, on the rocks, and just around the corner have some staying power, too. 

It’s all very good! Go watch it this week!

Think you can’t afford the ballet? WRONG. Go pay what you can this Thursday. For everyone else, go Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. Find tickets here. 

If you just can’t make it this weekend, buy tickets for Next Step on Friday, June 13. The show features original works from PNB dancers. You know, the future!