Amar Ramasar returns to Bravos but also to questions

Such applause is customary for a dancer returning after an absence, as Ramasar was, but his return was anything but normal. In September, he was fired for texting explicit photos of a female colleague. Just a month ago, after the firing was challenged by the dancers’ union, an arbitrator, ruling that the dismissal had been a disciplinary step too far, ordered City Ballet to reinstate him.

So when Ramasar entered at the start of the fourth movement of George Balanchine’s “Brahms-Schoenberg Quartet” on Saturday — the company having provided no special announcement apart from his appearance on a casting list — he was stepping into an extremely fraught situation. Several women in the company have expressed dismay at his return, and a sense of having been betrayed by the union that represents them as well. Yet there was Mearns, one of City Ballet’s biggest stars, a woman who once dated Ramasar, by his side, seeming, at least implicitly, to endorse him.

From a certain angle, Ramasar’s role in “Brahms-Schoenberg” was an odd, tone-deaf casting choice. He plays a Gypsy-like character who imperiously waves away his female partner so that he can show off.

From another angle, though, it’s a role that brings out the qualities that Ramasar’s fans adore: his enthusiasm, his endearing ebullience. Of the three male dancers connected to the texting scandal, Ramasar was the one whose stage persona seemed most in contrast with the boorish offstage behavior. (He was also the one with the most compelling backstory, a poor-boy-from-the-Bronx tale that set him up as a mixed-race role model).

As a dancer, Ramasar gives even imperiousness a boyish innocence that defangs it, or used to. On Saturday, bounding joyfully in his old manner as if nothing had changed, his technique seemingly in good shape, Ramasar looked more than a little clueless.

Apparently, though, that’s what his fans wanted. A loud contingent stood to shower him with bravos. There were no protesters, and if there were boos, I didn’t hear them. One man interviewed after the performance said: “Perhaps mistakes were made, but I think everyone should be given a chance to make amends. I’m just really grateful he’s back.”

To me, these bravos and passive-voice justifications have the sound of over-speedy simplifying. Ramasar’s case — what he has characterized as “nonwork lawful activities between consenting adults” — is complicated by murky facts and contentious moral issues, especially in the context of a ballet company, with its close physical contact, and the demeaning, frat-boy language of the text exchanges.

There’s also the counseling he was mandated to undergo: Will it make any difference? And how else will the deep-seated problems his case exposed be addressed? I’m talking, once again, about the whole thing, including the resignation last year of Peter Martins, the company’s ballet master in chief, amid accusations of abuse — accusations he denied, and which an investigation did not substantiate, but which have raised profound questions about the company culture.

In short, this rushed, business-as-usual reintroduction of Ramasar won’t do, though I understand the company’s desire to downplay it. Because, of course, his wasn’t the only performance of note Saturday. In the preceding andante section of “Brahms-Schoenberg,” Megan Fairchild was especially radiant. Her return this season, from maternity leave, is the kind of unequivocally happy company event that I, as a critic, would normally be focusing on — notwithstanding how her performance in “Theme and Variations” a few weeks back wasn’t yet up to her high standard.

“Theme and Variations” is an extraordinarily difficult dance. Making his debut in it Saturday, Anthony Huxley fell. This wasn’t the sort of fall that his partner, Ashley Bouder, is known for: a go-for-it overshooting. Huxley is known for careful perfection, which he was demonstrating until, during an infamous series of turns on the ground and in the air, he hesitated — and lost his rhythm and footing. A beautiful dancer who has trouble projecting, he could use some of Ramasar’s un-self-conscious gusto.

Or that’s the sort of comparison I would usually make. Instead, this article must be about Ramasar’s homecoming and the response of his fans, their bravos and standing ovations. Those who were disturbed or disgusted — I spoke with some afterward — were quiet or drowned out or absent.

The insistent applause felt intended to obliterate the remaining questions. What about the many women aside from Mearns who were sharing the stage with Ramasar, and the rest of the women in the company? Will he be able to regain their trust? Or ours? Will this be a story of real contrition and forgiveness or of dirt pushed under the rug?

Taking a bow, Ramasar flashed his big smile in relief. A little obliviousness has always been part of his charm. But he — and the new company leadership — should understand: He is not off the hook.

More Information:

“Brahms-Schoenberg Quartet”

Through June 2 at New York City Ballet, David H. Koch Theater, Lincoln Center, Manhattan; nycballet.com.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.