An even greater luxury at these shows, though, was the presence of the full San Francisco Ballet orchestra in the pit. Both of these changes are thanks to Grace Holmes, the School’s new-ish director, and both changes made for student dancing that felt bigger, bolder, and more unleashed than in years past. Even in the opening demonstrations with their exam-style recitations of increasingly tricky steps, the Level 6-8 students were uninhibited and used the language of classicism with a sense of personal expression. (Surely talent scouts out there already have a close eye on brothers Sergio and Raul Noyola Morales, both incapable of doing even a tendu without charisma.) Where the live orchestra made the biggest impact, though, was in the new choreography.

Two San Francisco Ballet members were given the opportunity to create on the students under the company’s new and pretentiously titled dancer development program, Creation House. (These kinds of opportunities for company members existed in the past, but now they come with press release language about “suites of initiatives” and “bespoke experiences.”) Principal dancer Esteban Hernandez’s “1941” marked his choreographic debut, and it was a stunner. The choice of music and that music’s live performance was everything. Jose Pablo Moncayo’s composition “Huapango” is evidently so beloved in Mexico that it’s considered the country’s “second national anthem,” but if it’s ever been played at the War Memorial Opera House, I’ve certainly never heard it.

Moncayo was, like Hernandez, a native of Guadalajara, Mexico, and a sense of pride and celebration suffused Hernandez’s treatment of the sunny music. Dressed in warm hues with costumes partially borrowed from Justin Peck’s “Rodeo,” Sarah Lusetti and Logan Shaw began by clasping hands with the other six ensemble members in an entwined cluster that seemed more closely related to folk dancing than Balanchine’s daisy-chain patterns. 

As the lively percussion came in, they bounced in a crouch, arms held with flexed biceps, and at times engaged in wonderful rhythmic surprises laced with soft shoe shuffling. Lusetti gave a little wink at the audience near the lip of the stage before being lifted by the group like a soaring airplane, her long lines sleeker than a 747. The lift became a motif as two trumpets played an airborne melody. The choreographic composition mixed just enough structure, invention, and surprise to keep you constantly interested in where it was going. “1941” actually had its premiere late last year during the school trainees’ tour to Sun Valley, Idaho, but this was Hernandez’s first time getting to see it performed. In the lobby afterwards, he glowed. He deserved to.