But Peck, like Balanchine before her, took quite a bit from the classicism of Petipa as well. A flute passage in the first movement saw Von Enck lifted upon the corps men’s shoulders like Princess Florine in “Sleeping Beauty’s” Bluebird pas de deux. The corps women of the second movement posed on the floor with elongated back legs like Odette—but with spicy olé arms. Given the Spanish theme, the “Don Quixote” references were plentiful. A line of eight women mimicked Von Enck in a string of effacé pirouettes from fifth—it was Kitri’s solo as a nonet. And Roman Mejia was a charming Basilio ringer as he led the slow, show-offy, third movement intermezzo (like his choreographer wife, he can be both filigreed and weighty). He looked like he was having the time of his life in all the “Don Q” lingering piqué attitudes around the corner and the matador side-bends over relevés in sixth position. It was hilarious when the corps men drummed on the ground to egg him on and he silenced them with a subtle palm.

Peck nodded to a more recent Russian choreographer as well. In the fourth movement andante, my favorite section upon this first viewing, Peck used the same conceit as in the andante of Alexei Ratmansky’s “Concerto DSCH”: three soloist couples supporting and sometimes interacting with a central pas de deux couple. At times they echoed Nadon and Tomash’s movements in the shadows, at other times they became the focus. At one point, the men stole Nadon from Tomash’s arms. And there were several aspects of “Espagnole” that evoked Ratmansky’s grand “The Seasons” as well, like the challenging technique, the mishmash of costume styles, and the graduated final tableau. 

But though “Espagnole” was technically stupendous, it was not nearly as bombastic as “The Seasons” or “Don Q.” Even the peacocking men’s dance stressed mystery over brashness. Mejia and the corps men performed turned in drags and other silky moves in Brandon Stirling Baker’s dusky lighting. Like the multiplicity of Kitris, here it was as if the enigmatic “Baiser de la Fée” soloist had been cloned. And I was surprised that the gentlemen were clothed in pale tights and pink peasant vests—as if they were ready for “Coppélia” instead of “Carmen.” Peck told Gia Kourlas in the NYTimes that the idea of a stereotypical red and black color scheme “was a firm no.” Peck was right to avoid those stark shades, as the Lalo concerto is much softer than the Glazunov and Minkus scores of “The Seasons” and “Don Q.”  But Peck has always shown the same sophisticated taste in her dancing. She is so technically adept that she could turn any ballet into a circus act if she wanted to; yet she colors in between more nuanced lines. At any given show, she is more likely to subtly play with her musicality than pump out more fouettés.