Ariel Rose, who until last year was a soloist with Miami City Ballet, presented a full evening of his own choreographic works in Manhattan: five pieces which echo his balletic upbringing yet define his own unique style which, at the start of the program, he says is about musicality above all. 

Even before Rose took the stage to welcome the audience, the first piece of the night—an amuse-bouche of sorts—lays out that foundation. “Duo Tasso,” performed by Miami City Ballet dancers Satoki Habuchi and Ethan Rodrigues, is a lighting-fast duet, set to a live cello score by Giovanni Sollima. The two dancers start by marching, exaggeratedly, in their own square formation, before progressing into a layered, staccato passage with sharp dégagés and lively emboîté en tournant. At times they literally dance circles around each other, one of them just a beat behind; there are echoes, here, of Balanchine’s “Kammermusik No. 2.”

Rose, whose training brought him from New York City’s Ballet Academy East, to ABT’s Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School, the Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School, and the Boston Ballet School, has a strong neoclassical background, especially after spending more than a decade at the Balanchine-oriented Miami City Ballet.

Like Balanchine, Rose has a taste for myth, which is particularly visible in “The Fallen,” with its strong echoes of “Apollo.” Renan Cerdeiro, a former principal at Miami City Ballet, is spellbinding in the lead role, even as the stage alights on his body, bent in an angular repose, on the floor. His agony is visible in small details: clenched fists, forward-pressing wrists.

Three female dancers—Adrienne Carter, Macarena Gimenez, and Taylor Naturkas—join him in time. Dressed in black, they seem to both comfort and haunt as they bourée around him and place his arms over their shoulders in support. Cerdeiro, even in his apparent strife, makes a good partner; most striking are the moments when a dancer, in arabesque, holds his torso from behind, and he steps outward, pulling her forward into a glide. 

Gestures—such as the women holding their arms above their heads, one hand gripping an elbow while the other splays palm-out—gives the work a sense of narrative context and emotional stakes without falling into pantomime. Cerdeiro, placing an invisible crown on his head as he converts from fallen angel to dark prince, is a compelling character as well as an electrifying dancer. It’s clear that what Rose has to offer, in his own style, is a strong sense of emotion.