"Emeralds" is a bold choice to initiate a program of sight bites from work made specifically for OBT under founding artistic director James Canfield (1989-2003) and Christopher Stowell, who succeeded him.

"Emeralds," the first of the three acts that make up the 1967 "Jewels," isn't one of Balanchine's self-styled "applause machines." Nor does it have the flash and energy of "Rubies," which Stowell programmed as the curtain-raiser at the start of his first season. He chose the lyrical homage to French Romantic ballet, set to Gabriel Faure's lushly eloquent music, in part to celebrate OBT's emerald anniversary, but mainly, he said, because "it reminds us of the subtlety, detail, elegance and musicality that are essential parts of the art form. And," he added, "I personally like the perfume, the atmosphere that 'Emeralds' creates in the theater."

Why "Othello"?

"I picked this story because, of all those great Shakespearean plays, it seemed the one that could best be told in pictures," Lubovitch says. "And because it contains such universally known emotions and characters."

"For me, and somewhat for Lar, too, Shakespeare should have called the play 'Iago,' " composer Elliot Goldenthal, who created the ballet's score, says of the drama's villain. "He's the most compelling part, all the machinations and maneuverings go through him."

I've admired works by Barton and Millepied before, but these premieres featured the choreographers' worst tendencies: teenaged ticishness in Barton, and in Millepied, workmanship so bad (imagine unvarnished wood that splinters at the touch--and the fault was not with ABT's always-committed dancers) that it's impossible to locate his intent, to find something in the piece to follow out.

"The board of trustees has decided to make some management changes," said OBT's board chair Kathleen Cosgrove. "Christopher Stowell (the company's artistic director) is going to take more of a leadership position, and Jon Ulsh is going to be stepping down."

Cosgrove said that the board has been evaluating the management of the company since last spring when its budget difficulties became public knowledge. At that point Ulsh and the board embarked on a budget reevaluation process with arts consultant George Thorn that trimmed this year's budget by 28 percent. And then Ulsh and artistic director Stowell led the $750,000 rescue effort called Dance United in June, which allowed the company to continue this season.

It’ll be interesting to see how the ballet functions with Stowell in control of both the artistic and administrative halves of the company. In less tumultuous news, the ballet company opens its 20th season with a retrospective blowout of works plus video footage from the past two decades this Saturday night. The bill includes bits from Bebe Miller and Trey McIntyre to newer works from Julia Adam, Yuri Possokhov and Stowell, among others. Regardless of the company’s internal issues, OBT’s roster of dancers is stronger than its been anytime in the last decade. You should make time to see them own the stage. See WW’s Dance Events for more info.

Changes include a reconfigured management team that will be led by Artistic Director Christopher Stowell. Ulsh guided the company for the past three-and-a-half years.

The company's Chief Operating Officer, Doug Wells, will oversee administrative functions and manage OBT's budget.

The program, "Jewels of the Bay," brings together works by Alonzo King of LINES, San Francisco Ballet's Val Caniparoli, Smuin Ballet's Amy Seiwert and Carlos Carvajal of the Peninsula Ballet Company.

The full program will include "Street Songs" by Caniparoli, excerpts from "Revealing the Bridge" by Seiwert, "Love Dogs" by King and "Crystal Slipper" by Carvajal. Friday marks the first performance by the ballet since founder Ronn Guidi resigned unexpectedly in April. The company quickly reorganized, and longtime Oakland Ballet dancers Michael Lowe and Jenna McClintock are at the helm as guest artistic directors.

The Fisher is a concert hall -- meaning there's a distinct lack of theatrical artifice. There are no wings or curtain, so we see dancers milling about before each piece. Exits and entrances are squeezed into side doorways normally used by conductors. The floor -- or perhaps the building's acoustics -- amplify the already annoying clonk of point shoes to River Dance levels. (Even a non-talent student couldn't beat up Scarlatti's piano sonatas quite as effectively as the clomping going on during Ratmansky's three couple ballet.) The lighting is either dim or garish, leaving the Barton gasping for romance, the Ratmansky unseeable at times, or, as with the Millepied, threatening to overwhelm the capacity of the lighting board. And finally, during the Millepied, twenty-four dancers, six musicians, a conductor, a piano, and a hefty percussion set-up pack the stage tight as a Tokyo subway car. No wonder the dancers made a sort of prayer circle before this one started -- a step out of line and there could be blood.

As a necklace of miniatures, Seven Sonatas can treat us only briefly to the simultaneous long and short view that Ratmansky, alone among choreographers, offers. He has this trick of depicting characters both lost in their own world and partaking witlessly in others'. For the last sonata, the six dancers move - all at once and every which way, in a goofy ecstasy - as their characters have dictated, until a looming threat overwhelms them. The women lie down and the men kneel behind them, bowing their heads as if over a grave.

After Ratmansky, the evening barrels downhill. Choreographer Aszure Barton, whom Baryshnikov has long championed, adores eccentricity but can only imagine it in libidinal terms. Unavoidable urges spout from the dancers' bellies and shoulders, and erupt from their toes. The theme favours men (for some reason) and so, in One of Three, we get them. In suits, to reinforce the idea that they didn't mean to let it all hang out. For double reinforcement, Gillian Murphy plays a mystery lady, with a finger to her lips. But the secret has already been blown.