New York City Ballet’s unwavering commitment to new choreography means that new ballets are created all the time. During my 14 years as a dancer in the Company, I had been to countless premieres, and as the old adage goes, they can’t all be masterpieces.

But in the fall of 2012, not long after I retired, I attended the premiere of a new ballet by a corps member named Justin Peck. I only knew him in passing, literally from hurrying by in the twisting backstage hallways of the theater. And as the curtain rose on Year of the Rabbit, I expected nothing but another pleasant night at the ballet.

But then came that first arresting image: A lone woman standing downstage with a typewriter-stack of corps members looming behind her. It pulled me out of my seat.

Then the orchestra struck the first note and the image came alive, bodies weaving in and out of formations like shapes in a kaleidoscope. The dancers pushed themselves off balance only to regain it in unexpected ways. The steps were intricate and playful and represented the fast-paced experience of a new generation. These were dancers accustomed to the ground always shifting beneath their feet.

The choreography was entertaining and unpretentious, but it had substance and depth. It was contemporary, yet firmly rooted in the classical tradition. Underneath the fresh, inventive vocabulary and musicality, there was a deep reverence for our founders, George Balanchine and Jerome Robbins. Choreography is like walking a tightrope—one misstep in either direction and everything plummets to the ground. Justin’s work took real risks but also contained a miraculous sense of balance.

I felt incredibly excited for my beloved art form. Reports of its death were greatly exaggerated. A new voice had arrived. A few months later, Justin created another new ballet for the Company’s annual New Combinations evening. Paz de la Jolla will always hold a special place in my heart because, in my post-retirement role as the Company’s Director of Media Projects, I was often in the studio when it was created. This was when I got to know Justin as an artist and friend. 

Justin’s sudden rise on the choreographic scene made a long-simmering idea of mine suddenly possible. What would it be like to capture a ballet being created from start to finish?

Few of the well-established choreographers would tolerate a camera following their every move. Justin was still learning how to steer his fledgling talent through the well-oiled machine of New York City Ballet and open to anything. Through Justin’s eyes, an audience could understand both what a monumental undertaking the choreographic process is, and what an extraordinary institution stands beneath the shoulders of every talented artist.

The footage we shot during the making of Paz de la Jolla would eventually become the feature verité documentary Ballet 422. At the time, the film was well-loved for what it said about the creative process, but over time I think it will also be valued for the window it gives us into the early days of a major artist. 

Paz de la Jolla also marked the first time that Justin worked with the costume designers who would become longtime collaborators, Reid Bartelme and Harriet Jung. It was such fun to watch them work together, three considerate young people circling around each other’s thoughts, gently shaping their individual ideas until they combined into one greater whole. It reminded me of rifling through a costume bin as a child and moving my friends around the makeshift living room stage. It’s the feeling I believe all artists are chasing, no matter how successful they become—the pure communal joy of creation.

Justin has built a community of collaborators who are some of the greatest artists in their fields—too many to name, but here are just a few. In music, The National, Dan Deacon, Caroline Shaw, and Sufjan Stevens (Illinois helped Justin earn his second Tony Award for choreography this past June). In design, Marcel Dzama, Karl Jensen, and Jeffrey Gibson. Through New York City Ballet’s annual fashion-focused galas, his works have been costumed by Raf Simons, Dries Van Noten, and Humberto Leon (Kenzo, Opening Ceremony). And in film, Justin has choreographed for Sofia Coppola, Damien Chazelle, Elisabeth Moss, Bradley Cooper, and the legendary Steven Spielberg.

Despite all the famous names around him, Justin is loyal to his earliest and closest friends and partners, and especially the institution that launched him. In 2014, after the premiere of Everywhere We Go, Justin was only the second artist to be honored with the position of resident choreographer at NYCB.

The craft of choreography requires space, time, light, music, and most importantly, people. It calls for deep foundations of support. A residency can be transformative not just for the material resources, but for the long-term trust it places in the artist. Justin’s success is just one manifestation of that deep faith. The Company’s investment in choreography ripples out not just to the dance world but into theater and film and society’s ongoing cultural conversation. The stories we tell about ourselves, in words or in movement, are our most precious resource.

Over the past decade, I’ve watched Justin grow from a dancer to a dance-maker to a master storyteller; from a single, young man to a husband and a father; from a new friend to an old one. It’s been a joyful journey in which to take part. And I know that it’s been joyful for Justin, for his dancers and collaborators, and most importantly, for his ever-growing audience. Now, when I sit down to a premiere, I not only bear witness to the work itself, but the way it joins us all together, moving us forward into the future of the art form, one new ballet at a time.

Peck’s In Creases, Solo, Partita, and Everywhere We Go will be performed September 24 and October 3 and 12 at 7: 30 pm, and October 13. Visit NYCBallet.com. 

Ellen Bar is a producer, filmmaker, and a former NYCB Soloist. Upon her retirement from performing in 2011, Bar was named NYCB Director of Media Projects, a position she held until 2017.