THE POLAR BEAR AND THE BALLERINA

A fantastical testament to the joy of seeing yourself in the art you seek out.

This epic urban sojourn begins at New York City's Central Park Zoo. Three Black dancers, all tutu-wearing members of the Harlem Children’s Ballet, smile broadly before an aquarium enclosure and pose for promotional photographs as a bemused polar bear looks on with interest. Night falls, and the bear heaves itself from its tank and happens upon the signature accessory of our prima ballerina, a cherry red scarf blown from her neck or, just as likely, left behind as a clue. Eager to return the lost treasure, the Arctic creature heads uptown—drawing the ire of cabbies for jaywalking—until it reaches Lincoln Center. Much to the animal’s chagrin, a sign forbidding polar bear patronage has been plastered to the box office plexiglass, but when the bear’s bereft yowl reverberates into the rehearsal space, its resonance draws Red Scarf Girl from her warm-up and into the crowd. Once she’s led the creature to a velvet-swathed seat facing center stage, he sees another familiar face prominently featured in a backdrop alongside the performers—his own. This title is almost entirely wordless, but the captivating balance that Velasquez strikes between realism and ultra-expressive emotion makes a magical meal of the story. The endpapers offers zoological information about the titular creature and a biography of the fictional ballerina at the center of this tale. (This review has been updated for factual accuracy.)

Dreamy.