NEW YORK, NY.- Mira Nadon was 5 when she took her first ballet class. It was pre-ballet, which meant running around the studio, maybe getting a shot at fluttering like a butterfly. This was not for her.

When she found out that students began proper training at 6, Nadon laid it on the line: “I told my mom, ‘This isn’t serious,’” she said. “‘I’m just going to wait till I’m 6.’”

Even then Nadon was levelheaded and unflappable. Now, at 23, she is a principal dancer with New York City Ballet, approaching the close of a momentous season at Lincoln Center, where her versatility, artistry and jaw-dropping abandon have made her seem like a ballerina superhero. This week, she returns to the role of Helena, the rejected young woman determined to win her lover back in George Balanchine’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” An affinity for drama is in her bones, but something else makes Nadon a rarity: humor.

Nadon, the first Asian American female principal dancer at City Ballet, is a special, once-in-a-generation kind of dancer. Nadon can flip among many sides of herself — secretive, seductive, funny, serene. And she lives on the edge, with rapid shifts from romantic elegance to ferocious force. A principal since 2023, Nadon still has raw moments, but so much is starting to click: Her feet are more precise, her partnering more secure.

“To watch her grow — and it’s not been very long — has been tremendous,” said Wendy Whelan, the company’s associate artistic director. “It’s fast and big and just blossoming.”

This spring season, the close of the company’s 75th anniversary year, has been largely dedicated to newer ballets. She has danced in works by living choreographers, including Alexei Ratmansky and Pam Tanowitz, and made debuts in works by Balanchine and Jerome Robbins. “The range has been astounding,” Whelan said. “She’s been able to hone in on the uniqueness of each of those voices. And she cares about what the intent is of each of those voices, so they’re not all the same. She doesn’t just go out and do great things. She actually carves out the idea.”

The most important debut was in “Errante” (1975), a Balanchine ballet originally called “Tzigane” after its score by Maurice Ravel. Suzanne Farrell, for whom the ballet was made, staged it and coached Nadon. “She’s such an intelligent woman and so dry and funny in the best way in the studio,” Nadon said. “She’s very, very demanding. She’s not just going to say ‘good job’ because you tried and you’re working hard. But I love that.”

The ballet opens with a five-minute solo for Nadon, whose smoldering use of her eyes and face, along with the smooth control of her body, showed a deep command of the stage as she wound her way along its mysterious violin solo.

Farrell told her that the solo was a lonely experience. “I think she was excited for me to feel that onstage with the violinist,” Nadon said. Toward the end of the rehearsal process, Farrell told her that she shouldn’t move in a modern way but in a “very stylized older way,” Nadon said. “I think that’s also what makes it such a special world, that it’s unique and different from the way you approach another ballet.”

In Ratmansky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition,” Nadon was electric, fleshing out shapes while stretching bigger, deeper, longer — her arms are as fluid and expressive as her legs. And Nadon, at 5 feet, 8 inches, has legs. Working with Ratmansky, who is City Ballet’s artist-in-residence, is sharpening her technique, she said, just as Tiler Peck did last season when Nadon danced in her ballet, “Concerto for Two Pianos.”

“He’s so funny," Nadon said of Ratmansky’s polite requests. “He’ll be like, ‘Do you think you could turn out the leg a little more?’ ‘Do you think you could hit fifth there?’ I’m like, ‘Yeah, I probably could.’”

This season, she performed in two of Tanowitz’s ballets: “Gustave Le Gray No. 1” and “Law of Mosaics,” which ends with Nadon dancing a solo barefoot. “She doesn’t dance at you, she draws the audience in, and that’s her power,” Tanowitz said. “It’s almost like she’s letting us in on this intimate part of herself.”

How many dancers can be understated and wild? It has much to do with how utterly at ease Nadon is onstage, which dates to her training at the Inland Pacific Ballet Academy in Montclair, California, where she had many opportunities to perform. “I think it was really beneficial growing up,” she said, “to not be scared onstage.”

This was already apparent in 2017, when she danced the female lead in Balanchine’s “Scotch Symphony” at the School of American Ballet Workshop Performances, the annual year-end display of student talent. She was a fearless rush of power and delicacy that left audience members in disbelief. Recalling it now, Nadon laughed. “I didn’t think about it too much,” she said, “and just did the show and then everyone liked it, and I was like, Oh, I guess you’ve never seen me perform.”

Next month, Nadon will make her debut in “Diamonds,” the final section of “Jewels,” set to Pyotr Tchaikovsky, at the Kennedy Center. “There’s something about the Tchaikovsky — the swells and the grandeur that you just feel in your soul,” she said. “I’m excited to live in that world and see how it feels.”

The part was made for Farrell, and dancing it speaks to Nadon’s future as an integral part of City Ballet. But getting to this point was far from a sure thing. Her father is a professor of government and her mother was a lawyer; neither knew much about ballet aside from the dramatic, dark side that is often shown in films.

When Nadon was accepted to the School of American Ballet, City Ballet’s training ground, she knew her parents weren’t going to want her to go, which would mean leaving home at a young age. She is grateful to Darci Kistler, a former City Ballet principal, who offered her a scholarship for the summer course and convinced her parents that it would be more than OK to let her go.

“Even getting my parents to agree to let me audition was a struggle,” Nadon said. “I was like, ‘I just want to see if I get in’ and they were like, ‘You’re not going to go, but you can audition just for yourself.’”

To Kistler, she said: “‘Oh — my parents aren’t going to let me, but thank you so much.’ And Darci said, ‘Can you go get your mom?’ I was, like, running through the hallways.”

It wasn’t a yes on the spot, but after some conversations, they agreed. “I’ll always be really grateful to her for putting in that extra effort,” Nadon said. “My parents still are, like, Thank God for Darci.”

Nadon’s path through the City Ballet ranks has been swift. She joined the corps de ballet in November 2018 and was promoted to soloist in 2022. Just a year later, she was named principal. “There was a lot of thought that went into — when you start pushing, giving the opportunities — making sure she was ready,” Whelan said. “We don’t want any dancer to fail. We don’t want to just throw them out there and say, let’s see what happens.”

But Nadon was ready — for all of it. “When I think of myself having the title of principal dancer, it does seem kind of crazy and foreign, but on the day to day, I’m just dancing my ballets and going out onstage,” she said with a cheerful shrug. “I guess I’ve tried not to overthink it too much because I think it could be very heavy and a lot of pressure.”

Nadon is self aware. Her temperament, she realizes, is a blessing. She gets nervous for shows, but she’s never anxious. And she’s there to dance. “My favorite part of the job is just going out onstage and seeing what happens,” she said. “It’s almost like I’m surprised by what my body does. I’m finding out what’s going to happen at the same time as the audience.”

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.