Ballet Arizona in Ib Andersen's "Play" at Joyce Theater Ib Andersen's career as a dancer is fabled. The youngest principal in the history of the Royal Danish Ballet, he was one of the last dancers to work closely with George Balanchine at New York City Ballet. More recently he has acquired a reputation as an artistic director of uncommon prowess in transforming Ballet Arizona, which he has been leading since 2000, into something special. Ballet Arizona: Natalia Magnicaballi and Astrit Zejnati in "Play" at the Joyce Theater. New Yorkers could see for themselves on Wednesday, when the Phoenix company made its debut at the Joyce Theater with Mr. Andersen's 2007 work "Play." It's not a bad choice for an introduction. Set to seven pieces of music by five different composers, "Play" is a kind of homemade sampler of ballet styles in two acts. As such it seems designed to display range, both the company's and Mr. Andersen's. It begins simply, with what looks like classroom exercises set to Mozart's variations on the melody American children know as "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." Immediately the company establishes its most appealing feature: beautiful manners. These dancers lack affectation. You'd happily invite them into your home. Mr. Andersen responds to Mozart's variations with a series of solos, and these expose Mr. Andersen's musicality most baldly. The music, here and throughout "Play," is always respected, honored by close attention to its rhythms and dynamics. When Mozart skitters, so does the dancer; when Mozart bounds, the dancer does too. There is rarely the sense, as there is with greater dancers and choreographers, of a conversation with the composer. But sensitive ears are rare enough. In step with the music, Mr. Andersen moves into different moods and modes, pastoral with Schubert, leotard-ballet austere with Britten. Is it the lullaby quality of "Twinkle, Twinkle" that explains why the dancers lie down so often in "Play," as if trying to sneak in a nap? He sustains interest by deploying his dancers, without strain, in what seems to be just about every grouping, configuration and pattern he ever saw at City Ballet. For all of its plenitude and facility, the bulk of the choreography does seem familiar, stuck somewhere between derivative and original. The example of Balanchine is continually apparent - as is some of Mr. Andersen's Danish heritage - and the creativity of Mr. Andersen, an apt pupil, emerges in bright details rather than bold or breathtaking new ideas. The more contemporary duet in underwear that closes the first act with its floor-bound entwining and emotive, acrobatic partnering and clichéd choice of Arvo Pärt music, contains the most awkwardness. The double duet that precedes it, also set to Pärt, is much more powerful for its plainness and restraint. Similarly the dancers seem least comfortable when asked to stray from classicism and Balanchine's extensions of it. Those who stand out, namely Paola Hartley, Jillian Barrell, Tzu-Chia Huang and Astrit Zejnati, do so not by strength of personality but by greater purity of classical style and greater control. Despite a few goofy off notes, the second half, set to Stravinsky, is delightful. When the full cast assembles for the finale, the effect seems bigger than the Joyce stage can handle. Though the choreography calls for 28 dancers, here only 26 squeeze in. That ending and everything that precedes it inspires a wish not just that Ballet Arizona should return, but that it should return in a larger theater with a full orchestra. And also that it might bring to Balanchine's city one of the all-Balanchine programs with which Mr. Andersen is educating Arizona. Ballet Arizona performs through Sunday at the Joyce Theater, 175 Eighth Avenue, at 19th Street, Chelsea; (212) 242-0800, joyce.org.