The lineup for “La Primavera,” presented this weekend by the Sarasota Cuban Ballet School, was a near replica of the program it showcased three years ago, not long after it had formed a small company to provide more performance opportunities for aspiring students in its pre-professional program. Then and now, it included two works by the Cuban choreographer Alberto Méndez and the “Grand Pas Classique” from the 19th century Russian classic “Paquita.”

For those who saw the similar program in 2023, this repeat of repertoire provided an excellent opportunity to gauge the growth of the school and the talent it is producing. And while it can’t yet be compared to a full-scale professional company, there is no question it continues to produce dancers and present programs that are of a higher caliber and more uniform quality than you’re likely to find in most other ballet training grounds.

Though the “Primavera” program listed just three professional dancers in what was renamed, in 2025, the Sarasota Cuban Ballet Studio, high level students allow for the presentation of ballets that would be out of the range of possibility for most other schools. Moreover, the background of the school’s founders, Ariel Serrano and his wife, Wilmian Hernandez – who both trained at government-run schools in Cuba before defecting to the United States – allows them to pass on to the next generation both the great Soviet classics, at which the Ballet Nacional de Cuba (BNC) excelled, but also works created for that company by first-generation Cuban choreographers like Méndez.

The program opened with “Tarde en La Siesta” (“Late Afternoon Nap”), an exploration of the emotions of four sisters over the course of a summer afternoon, which Méndez, the in-house choreographer for the BNC for nearly two decades, created for that company in 1973. Unusual for its time in its emphasis on human emotion as much as technical prowess, it’s like a cross between the psychological ballets of Antony Tudor and the sibling rivalry of “The House of Bernardo Alba.”

The sisters range in age from the coltish Esperanza (Maria Alejandra Murillo) to the spinsterish Consuelo (Addison Josey), with Dulce (Astrid Westerfield), a bundle of sunshine, and a tortured and maudlin Soledad (Evelyn Lyman) in between. They’re all dressed in turn of the century long, high-waisted white frocks with blue accents, each one slightly different from the next. The vocabulary is classical – lots of tiny bourrées, hops on pointe, and poses in arabesque – but with enough dramatic use of the upper body and arms to convey passions and pitfalls. When they dance together, they join hands and intertwine in ways reminiscent of George Balanchine’s earlier ballets.

Murillo is nubile and effervescent; Westerfield giddily exuberant with a smile that lights up the stage (or in this case, the school’s main rehearsal studio, which provides the company’s intimate performance space). Josey is appropriately reserved and slightly disapproving. But it is Lyman’s role that commands attention, as she deals with some longing we’re not privy to, angst and pain pouring out of her mile-high leg extensions and outstretched arms.

A rare treat – given the limitations of the space and the school’s budget – was the live music (score by Ernesto Lecuona), which was smoothly executed by Lisandra Rodriguez Varela, also a Cuban native now settled in Sarasota, on a grand piano at the back of the stage area.

In the wrong hands, the second Méndez piece – “Muñecos” (“Dolls’) – might be too precious, but in this case it came across as charming and fun. It’s a sweet little vignette about a romance between a toy soldier (guest artist Jhostin Jiménez) and a rag doll (Katherine Lane, with rouged cheeks, in a red gingham dress), who come to life when they’re hit by a moonbeam. The music by Rembert Egües features plenty of the percussive rhythms derived from Cuba’s African roots.

We get the expected jerky, come-to-life motions (Nutcracker, anyone?) from Jiménez who, judging by past performances, seemed a little off his form Friday night, though still charmingly charismatic. In Lane’s body, however, the choreography comes alive from the inside, giving the impression of utter spontaneity as she drops in a heartbeat into wide legged-splits, hops on one leg on pointe while holding the other leg behind her head, or flops into a seemingly boneless heap. Physically she’s exceptionally strong and versatile – leaps, turns, flexibility…she has it all – but she was also convincingly in character throughout, without forcing or contriving anything.

The remainder of the program was devoted to the “Paquita Grand Pas Classique” a segment of the 19th century ballet first presented by the Paris Opera in 1846 (with choreography by Joseph Mazilier and music by Edouard Deldevez) and rechoreographed a year later by the Russian Marius Petipa, who set it to a score by Ludwig Minkus. It’s the story of a gypsy girl who saves the life of a French officer in Napoleon-occupied Spain, then discovers she is of noble birth, thus allowing the two to marry.

The full-length ballet is rarely performed these days, though New York City Ballet artist in residence Alexei Ratmansky created an original version for that company last year. The most enduring segment is the opulent final act, which was what was performed here – with somewhat less opulence than might be optimal, given the financial, space and live music limitations.

A corps of 12 student dancers in stiff white tutus performed the first movement in near, if not quite flawless, unison, executing the Russian folk-flavored steps and dramatic épaulement (shoulder and chest angling) with flair. Lane, Jiménez and Westerfield bounded across the stage in the “pas de trois,” with youthful verve, their arms linked and their steps light.

A series of “variations” – short solo segments that have become standards for students to use when performing in ballet competitions or at celebratory galas – follow, each emphasizing a different quality, be it fleet feet or willowy serenity. Here, it was again Lane who impressed; she is not subtle, but you can’t help but be impressed by her effortless grand jétes or turns on pointe in arabesque.

The same, unfortunately, could not be said of either Jiménez, nor of Brian Guerrero, who partnered Lyman as the principal male dancer. Jiménez hit his sequence of double turns in the air, but only with obvious effort and the traditional choreography that Guerrero would be expected to perform was greatly curtailed. (I learned after the show that he was injured, which caused an alteration in the ménage.)

Lyman, however, was close to impeccable, looking regal and executing the mandatory (in a Russian ballet) extended series of fouéttes (turns on one leg with the other leg whipping out and in with each rotation) with astounding ease. (She added doubles every couple of times around. One has to wonder how long it will be before she seeks a bigger stage and more lucrative pastures.

If there were flaws – one that stood out was that the women’s un-softened pointe shoes while doing bourrées or other percussive steps tended to sound to the audience, seated so close, like a thunderous rainstorm – there was more to commend than fault.

Having sat through many a dance school recital, I particularly appreciated the attention the Cuban School pays to teaching its students a complete artistry that extends well beyond just technical prowess. Yes, they all have the multiple turns, sky-scraping extensions and extreme flexibility that are de rigueur these days, but what sets them apart is their exquisite port du bras (arm movements), use of the upper body and especially, the nuanced expressions on their faces that guide your eye and your heart to exactly where they should go.

That kind of artistry is what has earned the ballet of Cuba its heralded reputation, and it is heartwarming to know it is being passed on so well right here in Sarasota.

‘La Primavera.’ Reviewed April 10. Continues through April 12, Sarasota Cuban Ballet Auditorium, 4740 Cattlemen Rd., Sarasota. $45. Sold out. srqcubanballet.org/performances