Two national dances heralded the spring season of the New York City Ballet on Tuesday. “Stars and Stripes” and “Union Jack,” each created for a corps of more than 50 dancers, delivered a bombastic dose of patriotism that could only have sprung from the mind of an emigré.

Their choreography speaks a Creole of clog-hopping brogue, poncey Briticisms, and American slang. Colorful banners may decorate the wings, giant flags may drop from the rafters, but these overtly commemorative works about our nation’s history are as unplaceable as Balanchine’s surname. Born Balanchivadze in St. Petersburg, and known at the end of his life simply as Mr. B, George Balanchine was well traveled. His all-American creations are cosmopolitan.

“Stars and Stripes” calls to attention three regiments. The Corcoran Cadets wear bright pink tutus underneath feathered hats in Karinska’s costumes. At the command of Sterling Hyltin, the ensemble salutes with arms ecarte. Ms. Hyltin executes a series of spring-loaded jetes. Her pace is clip and soldierly. The male ensemble, for their part, Thunder and Gladiator, are equally disposed. Tom Gold drills them, producing stately entrechats. Their white gloves seem to twirl them around, first in place, then in the air, and finally in a grand tour around the stage.

The veteran talents of Alexandra Ansanelli and Damien Woetzel introduced a remarkable artistry and theatricality in their pas de deux. During evening taps, Ms. Ansanelli as Liberty Bell was giddy and flirtatious, patiently returning Mr. Woetzel’s hands to where they ought to be.

As the music builds, she lifts her leg up slowly in a glorious attitude. The partnering, delicate and clean between them, is full of witty, endearing afterthoughts; yet they were silly, too. As El Capitan, Mr. Woetzel has a chance to show his prized athleticism. During his solo, he starts to turn and, several beats later, forgets to stop.

But the evening really belonged to Ms. Ansanelli. In a vigorous solo, she shakes her legs dry, even gnaws the air in fiendish play – something to watch. A budding version of her is Ellen Bar, who was almost dainty and even a little fresh in her role as the head of the Rifle Regiment, adding lyrical accents to her Dixieland solo with the bugle prop.

“Union Jack” marshaled the regiments with much more pomp and circumstance. Lincoln Kirstein called it a “tribute to ritual observance not far from the Anglican language of faith.” This means interminable roll calls, and a solemnity verging on the Episcopal.

A forest of watch-plaid kilts belonging to the Scottish and Canadian guards marched rank and file. Immovable in their trunk, the corps had a well-rehearsed exactitude in their hands. As they approached, one at a time, the front of their row, they looked as if they were balancing birdseed on their thumb and forefinger. A stirring melody of the Highlands lifts up from the orchestra pit. When the ensemble dances, it’s a tight-knuckled jig.

Jennifer Ringer and Nilas Martins, dressed head-to-toe in rhinestones (she in a petticoat and skirt, he a matching suit), offered a welcome change of pace in the Costermonger Pas de Deux. In a lengthy burlesque scene, they joke around. To the shout of a tuba, they vaingloriously compete for our sympathy. Their partnering is often hilarious; she tickles his armpit with her pointe shoe. You half expect ink to squirt out of the pink carnation that she wears.

The Royal Navy adds energy to the dancing with jazzy shuffles. The crew mimes their various duties: dropping anchor, rowing, climbing yardarms. Philip Neal plays a charismatic Popeye, flexing at the edge of the stage. And who can ignore the female naval regiment, the Tommy Wrens? They accomplish a nice physical pun of swaggering seductively in jazz two-step while imitating the ocean waves.

The piece ends with a semaphore code, relayed with hand flags, spelling “God Save the Queen.” The message carries a degree of ironic hilarity about it. This work premiered at the bicentennial of the United States – the mid-1970s, when the patriotic mood was tepid at best, and even the organized celebrations, of which “Union Jack” was one, were only quasi-official.

Hershy Kay arranged the music for both works – patchworks of traditional folk melodies from England and the fight songs of John Philip Sousa, “The March King.” Andrea Quinn conducted the NYCB orchestra to great effect overall.

“Barber Violin Concerto,” set to Samuel Barber’s “Concerto for Violin and Orchestra,” provided a lyrical intermission. Violinist Arturo Delmoni presided over the work with authority. Darci Kistler tiptoes into view with her danseur, Charles Askegard. Her stealth continues in their duet together, gaining urgency with the tempo. Tacit evasions in her movements produce a tension in their partnering, which builds until she finally twirls off on her own. Mr. Askegard remains powerfully self-assured in a series of classical combinations that tentatively bring her back. They recede backwards off the stage.

Albert Evans soon makes an entrance as one half of a modern dance duo, along with Ashley Bouder. Together they signal a departure from the strict, classical idiom. Mr. Evans hunkers into a posture of extended arms and cocked elbows, a motif vaguely predatory under Jennifer Tipton’s lighting. For her part, Ashley Bouder offers an expressionist interpretation to the common lift by swimming in the air.

One of Peter Martins’s earlier works (he’s still using couples), “Barber Violin Concerto” contemplates a classical pair beside their modern-dance alter egos. We see Ms. Kistler shape a lovely arabesque, while Ms. Bouder paces in slow motion. In the adagio, however, a psychological drama overrides the comparison. Ms. Kistler’s curiosity evolves into a fascination and finally absorption under Mr. Evan’s wingspan.

The work originally featured two NYCB principals (Merrill Ashley and Adam Luders) and two dancers from the Paul Taylor Dance Company (David Parsons and Kate Johnson).The choreography does a good job distinguishing the qualities between the modern and classical steps, and also how they inform each other. But the work shows the preciousness of Mr. Martins’s oeuvre as it has developed over the years. The characterizations on the whole resemble the academic “studies” of Doris Humphrey and Charles Weidman. Besides, Ashley Bouder is no modern dancer, and her tantrum in the final section is a dim parody of Ms. Johnson’s frenetic roles in Paul Taylor’s darker work.

“Union Jack” will be performed again tonight, April 30, May 1 & 7, and June 19; “Stars and Stripes” will be performed again April 29 & 30 and May 5; “Barber Violin Concerto” will be performed again April 30, May 13, and June 19 (Lincoln Center, 212-870-5570).