The recorded music, of course, is by James Blake, the edgy British R&B/pop singer-songwriter, whose tunes have obsessed Forsythe for the past decade. But the “music” is also by Forsythe himself, in the counter-rhythms he shows us via the slinky-sharp, syncopated steps. (This irrepressible gift for imagining his own compositions within and against what is heard is the quality that puts Forsythe in league with Balanchine, after all.) The first act “Prelude” section of “Blake Works” offered us this most spectacularly, complex chains of bodily rhythms unfurling in the long silences between Blake’s electronically fuzzed vocals. “The Barre Project,” created over Zoom during Covid, then gave a series of soloists the chance to “werk,” their saucy hips propelled by loud club beats. The closing “Blake Works I,” originally made in 2016 on the Paris Opera Ballet, capped everything with stage-sweeping ensembles, and a painfully vulnerable duet at the center.

Joseph Walsh emerged as the Forsythe dance par excellence. In fact, he almost seemed to be the company team captain, especially in the “Prologue,” where a couple times I heard him whispering the counts for an ensemble line to all start on one breath. The wholeness of his dancing is something I can’t quite explain, but what makes Walsh especially spectacular is how naturally he shifts from a feat of the highest technical refinement to a relaxed human presence. That Jerome Robbins quality of “just dancing” for the others on stage is his instinctual mode, and it is painful to think he might be nearing the latter days of his performing career.

“Prologue” offered breakout moments for younger dancers, especially when the superhumanly plastic Luca Ferrò and the less refined but wonderfully thoughtful Dylan Pierzina stepped into its opening duet. “The Barre Project,” meanwhile, was a nonstop virtuosity parade: Conley, Fogo, and Ferrò all left their mark on it. Woo became its poster girl, unforgettable in a hip-swishing, ballroom-influenced duet with Price. Barkman reigned again here too, the current of energy in her pelvic swivel almost obscene. (Interesting effect for a dancer whose default persona is sassy yet wholesome.) 

My favorite segment of “The Barre Project,” though, was the gentle, almost prayerful “Lullaby for My Insomniac,” which gave Wona Park the chance to be quietly heartbreaking. What a special dancer she is—when so much of the current female roster seems to specialize in attack, Park marries speed and strength to an essential softness. She shone in virtually everything this year: Balanchine’s “Serenade,” Yuri Possokhov’s new “Onegin” (as Olga), and especially “La Sylphide.” 

It was then fascinating to see Seojeong Yun, a soloist, step into the “Lullaby” role after Park. She too was deeply musical and angelic—and yet the hand movements that with Park looked so regretful seemed with Yun more like “choreography,” not quite on the level of subtly beseeching gesture. But no doubt for Yun that next level of artistry will come. Among other emerging female talents in the company, the tall and dignified Jaycee Gailliard proved her soloist worthy chops—and got promoted to demi-soloist at the end of the season. And Isabella DeVivo hit the music with a vengeance. She was, alas, under-cast in every other program this past season. 

Meanwhile, fellow fans who also came to see “Blake Works” three or four times will surely cry foul if I don’t credit Wei Wang, breezing through the battu marathon of “Blake Works I” and turning all those Vaudevillean flourishes into winkingly regal moments worthy of King Louis XIV himself. Watching from the wings, Forsythe himself must have thought he’d gone to heaven. As Joseph Walsh replied to one of those “season photo dump” posts on Instagram, “Next SF Ballet level: unlocked.”