Canadian choreographer Crystal Pite's 'Flight Pattern,' inspired by the refugee crisis, takes off at the National Ballet

Throughout her career, she’s demonstrated an exceptional ability to translate complex emotions into movement, and then draw them out with piercing clarity. A forward lunge, an outstretched arm, an opening up of the chest — she can imbue every moment with startling gravitas and dramatic weight.

“Flight Pattern,” her 2017 contemporary ballet that debuted at London’s Royal Ballet and is now marking its North American premiere at the National Ballet of Canada as part of a winter double bill with Serge Lifar’s gorgeous “Suite en Blanc,” displays all this in full force. 

Developed in response to the Syrian refugee crisis, the work explores themes of displacement, flight and migration. One of its primary motifs is the idea of physical borders and the agony of waiting for entry. It’s this state — teetering on the fine edge between hope and despair — that the piece most frequently inhabits. 

For better or for worse, though, “Flight Pattern” is signature Crystal Pite. We’ve seen this choreographic style and structure before in her previous large-scale ballets like “Emergence” and “Angels’ Atlas,” with imposing ensemble work giving way to breakaway solos and pas de deux, before being consumed by the collective once again. 

I’ve always found Pite’s ensemble choreography to be more impressive than her solo and duet work. And that remains the case here. 

Indeed, what Pite has crafted for her 36-member corps in “Flight Pattern” is enrapturing. When the curtain rises, the ensemble is lined up in cramped rows and dressed in drab overcoats. (The costumes are by Nancy Bryant.) Under Tom Visser’s dim lighting designs, with the occasional rays of light peeking through Jay Gower Taylor’s black box set, the dancers gently sway back and forth, rocking in unison as if they were huddled together on a boat cutting through the sea, clandestinely, on a moonlit night. 

The notion of “flight,” in its various meanings, plays a big role in Pite’s 30-minute ballet, all set to the first movement of Henryk Mikolaj Górecki’s solemn “Symphony of Sorrowful Songs,” featuring the resplendent voice of Canadian soprano Measha Brueggergosman-Lee. 

First, there’s the idea of flight with regard to the act of fleeing. Pite represents this in the ensemble quite literally. The dancers, joined in a taut web of arms and legs, cling to this web desperation, hoisting each other up when another stumbles or falls, and pulling each other onward. It’s a sombre image, but also one of hope and resilience. 

Later, “flight” takes on a new meaning: that of freedom. Visser’s lighting shifts to golden hues, brighter and more intense than before. Below, the dancers, torsos previously hunched to the ground, draw back their shoulders, opening their chests up to the light streaming down from above. Like a flock of birds, their arms extend out in unison, flapping as one. 

These ensemble moments are stunning, but I also understand Pite’s desire to move away from the corps, drawing out solos and duets from the collective. In these more intimate vignettes, she’s able to humanize the individual, moving into more specific storytelling. 

The primary couple (performed on opening night by Hannah Galway and Siphesihle November) represent parents who have lost a child. In one striking scene, the weight of her pain is depicted simply, yet so devastatingly: the other dancers pile their coats onto Galway’s arms, the weight of which causes her to crumble underneath. 

But, at times, Pite’s choreography for these solos and duets comes across as melodramatic. Like in November’s final solo, in which he stomps and grunts in agony, it occasionally feels as if Pite is straining for additional emotion, even when everything that’s needed to convey the scene is already there. 

This all leaves “Flight Pattern” feeling a bit uneven, a patchwork of some beautiful ideas that are never quite completely stitched together. 

It’s a somewhat similar story with “Suite en Blanc,” which opens the National Ballet’s double bill. The piece, set to Éduardo Lalo’s orchestral “Suite from Namouna,” is a perfect example of neoclassical ballet, the genre perfected by choreographers such as Lifar, George Balanchine and Frederick Ashton.

Whereas “Flight Pattern” focuses on emotionality, Lifar’s 1943 ballet is all about flaunting a company’s artistry and technical prowess. 

There’s really nothing for the dancers to hide behind in this work. There is no narrative. There are no sets. And the performers are mostly dressed in white tights (for the men) and traditional tutus (for the women), showcasing their elegant lines but also exposing any errors in form. 

Lifar’s choreography is gorgeous, melding classical traditions, such as precise pointe work, with breathtaking feats of athleticism. 

Glimpses of this are on display in this National Ballet production. On opening night, principal dancer Genevieve Penn Nabity was captivating in her solo, “La Cigarette,” showing off elongated lines and a graceful fluidity to her movements. The pairing of Agnes Su and Christopher Gerty was equally strong, confidently attacking their jumps and lifts. (Su also nailed a dizzying pirouette sequence toward the end of the work.) 

But other performances were far less assured. In the “Thème Varié” sequence, the trio of Beckanne Sisk, Peng-Fei Jiang and Chase O’Connell looked as if they were dancing on their back feet, with several breaks in form throughout. Elsewhere, some under-rotated jumps and precarious lifts took away from the elegance of Lifar’s choreography. 

Hopefully, these issues will be straightened out throughout the production’s weeklong run. But one has to wonder whether programming these two large-scale, full-ensemble works was simply too ambitious. Though “Suite en Blanc” is a remount, it certainly feels as if it were rehearsed as an afterthought, with far more time spent on prepping Pite’s “Flight Pattern.” 

What we’re left with is a program that certainly takes off, but doesn’t necessarily soar to its full potential.