NEW YORK, NY.- George Balanchine’s decision to stage the 19th-century ballet “Coppelia,” in 1974, was a surprise. Although Balanchine, the co-founder and leader of New York City Ballet, occasionally created narrative ballets, like “The Nutcracker” and “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” the company was identified with a lean, no-frills approach to classical dance. It was turned toward innovation and experimentation, rather than story, characters and elaborate costumes.

But the three-act “Coppelia,” with its lush, melodic Delibes score, fairy-tale set and extensive ensemble dances, was anything but experimental. City Ballet audiences were anticipating it “with a mixture of delight, incredulity and awe, and in some cases horror,” critic Marcia B. Siegel wrote, shortly before the ballet’s July 17 premiere at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center in upstate New York.

But Balanchine, who asked his Russian compatriot (and former romantic partner), ballerina Alexandra Danilova, to assist him on staging the ballet, knew what he was doing. “Coppelia,” starring Patricia McBride as the heroine Swanilda, Helgi Tomasson as her swain Franz and Shaun O’Brien as the eccentric toymaker Doctor Coppelius, was a roaring success, and has been performed regularly ever since. This season’s performances — Sept. 27-29 and Oct. 5-6 — are City Ballet’s 50th anniversary celebration of the ballet.

“Coppelia” was first choreographed by Arthur Saint-Léon for the Paris Opera Ballet in 1870, and then reworked by Marius Petipa in 1884 into the version we know today. The story is simple: Franz and Swanilda are happily affianced village sweethearts, until Franz falls for a pretty girl who turns out to be a life-size doll — the creation of Doctor Coppelius. By the end of the tale, which involves Swanilda impersonating the doll, Franz has learned a lesson about fantasy and Swanilda has secured her man. Cue wedding celebrations.

Balanchine asked Danilova, a famous Swanilda with a pitch-perfect memory of the Petipa version she had performed with the Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo, to set Acts 1 and 2, although he added a few new dances. But Act 3, omitted in many productions, is his alone, a series of divertissements that are a pure-dance coda to the story.

Megan Fairchild, who first performed Swanilda at 19, said she loved the character’s sassy personality. “It’s a more casual vibe,” she said. “She’s not a princess, and that resonates.”

“We do a lot of ballets that are sophisticated and intellectual, for highly developed dance watchers,” said Wendy Whelan, City Ballet’s associate artistic director. “This is lighthearted and warm and easy to watch. It’s a reminder of the beginnings of ballet: the storytelling, the classical dance, the pantomime.” Plus, Whelan added, “it’s fun and it’s funny.”

In interviews, five original cast members talked about their memories of creating the ballet. Below are edited excerpts.

Patricia McBride, Swanilda

Madame Danilova’s memory was uncanny. She remembered every step for every character in the ballet, and she danced full out when she showed you the choreography. She wanted me to play it straight when I impersonated the doll, not for laughs, and she was very precise about the musicality and phrasing, and the intent of each step. We hadn’t done a lot of mime at City Ballet, but she was so clear, she made it easy to learn. I loved that beautiful Russian port de bras (or carriage of the arms) she had. You could see what a great Swanilda she had been.

Balanchine was very specific about the way I held my arms and body as the doll. He never spoke about characterization, or how he wanted it to look, but the musicality of the choreography was so natural and wonderful. He would show you the steps and it was done.

Madame Danilova and Balanchine would keep going all day long, moving from one scene to the next, talking together. It was like seeing history, the two of them in the room together. Mr. B never interfered with her staging. I think he really respected her knowledge and memory.

Sometimes I would feel quite choked up to think of their lives and history together. They were both in their 70s, but they had so much energy and vitality and love, and they had a lot of fun together. They were so young in spirit. I felt so fortunate to work with them, and to see their respect for each other and their love of dance.

Helgi Tomasson, Franz

I was surprised and not surprised at Balanchine deciding to do “Coppelia.” He spoke about programming like creating a menu; he knew that he had to give the public varied dishes. And I think he loved those old Petipa pieces.

We were up in Saratoga when he started to choreograph my first-act variation. For some reason, he didn’t feel it was right. John Taras, the ballet master, was sitting next to him, and asked if I knew Balanchine’s “Sylvia” pas de deux, also to Delibes music. I had danced it with the Harkness Ballet, and Balanchine said, “Do you remember the variation? Let’s see it.” I did it, and he said, “Good, let’s keep that!”

For me, most of the dancing was in the third act. I loved the way Balanchine constructed the coda and how Patty and I came in and out of the group. He created speedy yet articulate steps that I think he felt suited me.

I remember that Patty and I did every performance of “Coppelia” in the first week, seven or eight in a row. At some point during that first week, I was so tired that in the scene where Franz is supposed to be asleep, I actually fell asleep. But the whole experience was a highlight of my career.

Jean-Pierre Frohlich, Corps de Ballet

I had been in the company two years and was just 19. I remember so well Balanchine and Danilova standing in front of the mirrors at the front of the studio. She was so elegant. I knew they had been an item in the Diaghilev era, and I was trying to see how those dynamics would have worked! You could see she still adored him.

Danilova loved to demonstrate steps. She wore ballet slippers with a little heel and ribbons. She had beautiful legs, and liked showing them off. She loved men; she was harder on the women than the men.

There was a very good ambience in the studio. They spoke in English, maybe occasionally in Russian, but I think they wanted the dancers to understand. She would never contradict him or say no to his suggestions. I felt she was very happy to be involved. But he was also very accommodating; he knew how much she had to offer.

Christine Redpath, Prayer Solo

Madame Danilova was so charming. She would wear a gorgeous green sleeveless leotard, with a scoop neck and back, a belt and chiffon skirt, hiked up to show her fantastic legs, and her hair coifed with a little scarf tied behind her ears. You could see she still loved to dance, and it was very sweet to see she still loved Balanchine.

(In “Coppelia,” three allegorical female solos, Prayer, Dawn and Spinner, come near the start of Act 3.)

I learned my solo with Balanchine, but Madame Danilova was there because she had danced the Prayer solo in Russia. I think what he created on me was based on that. Balanchine never spoke about the meaning of the solo, but all the gestures are “up,” and the music seems spiritual to me. If you take what he has given you, it’s all there to tell you who you are and what this is.

At some point he showed me a picture of Marie Taglioni in a blue skirt and little top with puffed sleeves and a horseshoe crown with stars, and that’s what Karinska designed for my costume.

Danilova sent me a lovely card and flowers on the opening night. We were all very excited. Everyone knows when something is good.

Merrill Ashley, Dawn Solo

The solo he made for me was fiendishly difficult, and it never became easier. There was fast footwork, lots of changes of direction and it ended in plié on pointe on one foot. I liked dancing it, but it scared me. There was one bit on a diagonal that was impossible, and it repeated three times. Eventually I said, I’m really struggling, would you consider changing it, and he said, “Dear, it’s yours, do what you want.”

Danilova choreographed the introduction to the solo, and that had more of a feeling of gentleness, awakening, offering something. Then the sun comes up over the horizon and, boom! Pyrotechnics!

You felt that Balanchine and Danilova were really friends and colleagues. He turned to her a lot; he really respected the knowledge and tradition she brought. I loved watching their interaction.

Charlotte d’Amboise, Child Dancer

David Richardson, a dancer in the company, was in charge of the kids, and to my twin sister and me he was God. We knew Balanchine was famous, but it was all about David. I was in the big dance in the last act, which I loved. We wore pink tutus and it was really dancey, and we had a whole section that was just us.

Balanchine really loved to have children involved and he could choreograph for them. He did it so easily, almost as if he didn’t think about it, just “go here, do this.” But he must have planned it.

At the first performance in Saratoga, one side of the elastic on my ballet slippers came off and was dangling while I was dancing. All I remember is thinking, David is seeing this — and he was so mad at me. I have never not paid attention to my shoes again!

I did pretty much all of the Balanchine ballets that had children in them, but “Coppelia” was my favorite. You felt like a ballerina, you had to have technique to dance it, and you felt like you were part of the corps de ballet. The best part of being a kid in these ballets was dancing next to these ballerinas and dancers who are goddesses and princes. To be surrounded by high art, to be part of it, affects you forever.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.