Music: Lady of the Still Point

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For most of the ballet enthusiasts who saw its New York première, the American Ballet Theater's sumptuous new production of Raymonda provided a night to remember. For one thing, the visually dazzling revival marked the return of Denmark's Erik Bruhn, 46, from his retirement three years ago; at the peak of his career, he was widely regarded as the world's reigning danseur noble. For another, Bruhn was appearing for the first time in the U.S. with his friend and rival Rudolf Nureyev, who has created a production that should enhance his reputation as a major choreographer. Finally, the premiere marked the emergence of American Ballerina Cynthia Gregory as a true superstar.

The lavish A.B.T. production is the first complete American version of this three-act ballet in nearly 30 years. In one sense, the neglect is hard to explain, since Raymonda is one of five surviving full-length works (including Sleeping Beauty and Swan Lake) of the 60 or so ballets created by the great Marius Petipa principally for St. Petersburg's Maryinsky Theater. The choreography ranks with Petipa's most inventive, and the score by Alexander Glazunov is both limpid and melodious.

Dream Sequence. On the other hand, the cumbersome romantic story involves what might be best described as a severe credibility gap. Briefly put, it tells of a countess in medieval Hungary who is torn between love for her betrothed, a dashing crusader named Jean de Brienne, and an earthier affection for a fiery Saracen knight, Abdul-Rakhman. Nureyev, who frequently danced in Raymonda when he was with Leningrad's Kirov Ballet, has staged the work for A.B.T. with such taste and delicacy that it is hard to tell where his choreography begins and Petipa's ends. In a valiant effort to make psychological sense of the plot, he has turned the scenes involving the Saracen and his court into a dream sequence—a wedding-bound maiden's erotic fantasy about a phantom lover. Beyond that, Nureyev has blessedly jettisoned narrative, so that for the most part his Raymonda is a two-hour experience in pure dance.

And what dancing there is! Just as there is grand opera, there is also grand ballet—unfettered by logic, celebrating showmanship and dazzle for their own sake. There were a few opening-night technical mishaps, but Nureyev's Raymonda is so studded with spectacular solos, pas de deux, pas de trois, pas de quatres, stylistic evocations of folk dance and rousing ensemble displays that it is rather like a 19-course meal devised by an overeager master chef. There are almost too many delights to absorb. One of them, certainly, is a revitalized Erik Bruhn, who brings to the secondary role of the Saracen his magisterial elegance of line, as well as a Tartar-like ferocity surprising in a dancer noted for ethereal courtliness. Hampered by an ankle injury, Nureyev as Jean de Brienne performed his four demanding solo variations with visible strain; the unmistakable élan and animal dynamism were there, but not the usual accuracy. Still, his work with Cynthia Gregory was a model of supportive adoration.