Houston Ballet opens its 2026-2027 with a mixed-rep that revives Stanton Welch’s Pecos Bill, an early career work from 2004. The program is a fine example of the company’s expanse of repertoire in both content and style, as seen in the other two works on display: George Balanchine’s Symphonie Concertante and Lars Lubovitch’s Meadow.
I’ve always felt that Houston Ballet is in many ways an ideal company for handling the work of George Balanchine. The company is adept at handling Balanchine’s intricate musicality, expressive movement combinations, and dramatic shading. This is evident in Symphonie Concertante, a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of formations in muted pearl tones. Balanchine cheekily infuses his compositions with sudden pops of asymmetry, and creates an interesting tension between unison and opposition.
The central pas de trois of Principals Tyler Donatelli and Angelo Greco and Soloist Sayako Toku glories in sequences of joined hands against a backdrop of smaller groups constantly changing formation. The generous use of repetition of this work creates a hypnotic, cyclical effect that feels gratifying to take in and almost begs for a second watch to catch all the details.
Symphonie Concertante is a Houston Ballet premiere, as is Lars Lubovitch’s Meadow. The Lubovitch piece is, in fact, the company’s first from the acclaimed New York City-based choreographer, and the first time it has been danced since 2007. In short, it is required viewing.
Meadow is danced entirely behind a scrim, giving the choreography an ethereal, otherworldly quality. This is emphasized by the bluish hues of the costumes and the lighting design, as well as the heavenly music of Schubert, Brohn, Busoni, and Gavin Bryar. The movement ebbs and flows across the stage in waves, and possesses the spiritual weight of ritual. The dance remains harmonious even during the moments when the music becomes discordant.
The ensemble sequences are filled with circular patterns, and the elements of release and contraction put this work into the tradition of mid-century Modern dance. This can be seen in the partner work, which is often entered through the momentum of the dance, building up on it, and then exiting seamlessly back into the choreography. Where individual lifts often stall the momentum of a dance, here they complement it, underscoring the lines and shapes of the other bodies on stage.
Then there is that magical, gorgeous shapeshifting duet executed to precision by Principals Karina Gonzalez and Connor Walsh. The chemistry between these two stars is always palpable, but here their duet work is propelled by organic connections and intuitive transitions that give the impression of two bodies expanding, not contracting, into one. Their duet opens with a fascinating, almost alien shape with Walsh at the base and Gonzalez prone in the air. The dance ends with this shape, the top half of which ascends into the air as the ensemble in the foreground engages in an earthbound swaying motif. Meadow is the stuff of dreams.
The focal point of this mixed bill, of course, is Pecos Bill, one of Stanton Welch’s first creations on his beloved company. The subject matter, an invented folk character by Tex O’Reilly, may seem a curiosity given Welch’s choreographic trajectory, particularly his penchant for mining the psychological landscapes of indomitable female characters. But for me, it serves as a charming look inside Welch’s early preoccupations with creating characters with big hearts and ballets with a generous, accessible spirit. Up until last night, I had only read about Pecos Bill, but by the haunting final image set against a starry Texas sky, I felt like I had a more complete understanding of Welch’s artistic preoccupations.
For starters, Welch understands the power of iconography. Pecos Bill opens with a stunning image of a Mother and her trail of sons and a single wagon moving across a desolate prairie, oversized white cowboy hats creating a trail that extends across the stage. In a lovely moment of reflection, the Mother, in a stark portrayal by Estheysis Menendez, takes in the landscape, a metaphor for the insurmountable weight of her life. She returns to her caravan of boys, but they mistakenly leave the youngest behind.
A lone cowboy hat is left centerstage, and as the head underneath lifts the brim, our hero is revealed. The boy Pecos is discovered by a pack of coyotes, and the Coyote Mother, danced with appropriate magnanimity by Jindallae Bernard, takes the innocent under her charge. Here is where we see Welch’s skill in crafting movement specific to each character, as the coyotes move in jagged, asymmetrical angles to underscore their feral, stealthy nature. Pecos’ idyllic youth comes to an abrupt halt when one of his coyote siblings is shot, harkening the dawn of the settlers to their prairie home. Recognizing that her charge must be with his own kind, the Coyote Mother bids goodbye and leaves Pecos to his future.
The variety of settlers emerge in a series of small groups that cross the stage in movement sequences filled with gestures and pantomime that speak to their occupations: a preacher and his devoted followers, a ragtag family of farmers, and cowboys eager to stake their claims in this untamed landscape. Pecos, played by a handsome and earnest Eric Best, looks on with wide eyes and curiosity. It’s a wonderful scene that exemplifies Welch’s skill in storytelling; he is able to build characters and illustrate the passage of time through a flat composition that suggests a picture book brought to life. There is lots of humor in the character work, and lots of fun in the visual hijinks.
When a Snake Oil Salesman challenges the local men to ride his own horse, the Widowmaker, for a cash prize, we see several men ride to their deaths. Like the Coyote Pup from earlier, each man is serenaded away by a Mortician, danced with eerie aplomb by Principal Harper Watters. The Mortician enters the stage each time in a sideways trot, weaving in and out of the assorted tableaux on the stage before claiming his victims with a chilling movement sequence that begins with a deep lunge in a back arch and ends with a saunter into the underworld.
As it turns out, the only cowboy man enough to ride the Widowmaker, an imposing Aaron Robison, is in fact, a woman. Slue-foot Sue, danced with wily tomboyishness in an against-type role by Principal Jessica Collado, is our hero’s match, and in an act of erroneous giftgiving, Pecos buys her a pretty blue dress. Slue-foot Sue is a cowgirl, and chafes at the gift, but ultimately tries it for her beguiled sweetheart. The ensuing scene, including a kiss behind that iconic white cowboy hat, is endearing, and suggests Welch’s belief in youthful, untainted romance.
I do wish Slue-foot Sue had not worn the dress. Her grit and gumption should have been enough for the affable Pecos Bill, but I have to assume this device was a means to push the narrative forward. The dress, a token of Pecos’ affection, leads to Sue’s demise, as it proves to be an unsatisfactory riding outfit for the wild stallion that is the Widowmaker. She is thrown off the horse’s back and into the arms of the Mortician.
The final scene is a somber one, as Pecos is once again alone on the prairie. The specters of his Mother and Coyote Mother cross the stage, illustrating the ongoing series of losses, all of them women, that are driving the hero’s trajectory into the Wild West. As the spirit of Slue-foot Sue ascends into the stars, Pecos Bill takes his seat center stage, and bows his head, the top of his white cowboy hat alone against the backdrop of sky.
Pecos Bill is 22 years old; Welch has created an entire repertoire of reimagined and new ballets since then. Welch’s sophisticated use of tableaux to create density and gesture to develop character, complimented by a bluegrass-infused score by Matthew Pierce, creates a ballet that is as artistically edifying as it is thoroughly enjoyable.
There is a lot of heart and soul in Pecos Bill; I like my ballet with a generous helping of both.
Performances continue through September 20 at 7:30 p.m. on September 12 and 18, 1:30 p.m. and 7:30 p.m. on September 19 and 2 p.m. on September 13 and 20 at the Wortham Theater Center, 501 Texas. For more information, call 713-227-2787or visit houstonballet.org $30-$173.