Whether you celebrate or ignore Valentine’s Day, it’s pretty hard to avoid. Walk in a drugstore and you’re lost in a sea of heart shaped pillows of red velour bearing the word “Amor.” But romantic love, not just the trappings of it, is still to be found in our culture. It is best represented onstage – specifically, the ballet stage.

Ballet is the most romantic of the arts. Ever wonder why (stereotypically speaking, of course) women get giddy about the ballet but men don’t? In ballet, women are treated the way most women want to be treated – like princesses. This is not limited to narrative ballets in which dancers portray princesses, such as “Sleeping Beauty.” In fact, it has less to do with plot and more to do with form, vocabulary, and tradition.

Any ballet with a classical pas de deux is a place where women shine and men assist. Despite this imbalance, the partners are well-matched, polite with each other, playfully competitive. It’s pretty much an ideal relationship. If you break down some of the special elements of a classical pas de deux, you’ll see it.

A good male partner extends a woman’s reach and range of motion. She can hold balances longer, stretch her legs farther, and right herself with consummate grace. Supported turns and leaps allow the woman to turn faster and jump higher than she could on her own. Those long, supported leaps in Balanchine ballets, such as the second movement of “Symphony in C,” make the ballerina appear as if she is floating through the air. Are you watching the guy when Wendy Whelan pushes aside the clouds with those delicate hands? Doubtful.

Speaking of lifts, many ballets end with the girl sitting high on the shoulder of the boy – whose head is totally obscured by yards of tulle. What we see is a dazzling woman perched high above the rest of the group. She’s shown off like a gem in a spectacular setting. How’d she get up there? Who cares? Can’t see the guy? Big deal.

There’s more to it than movement. In the 10 or so minutes of a pas de deux, the male partner has a responsibility to make sure the woman is the center of attention (except during his solo variations) and that she’s doing her best. Good male partners give women a sense of certainty, and that allows for a freedom or lack of inhibition onstage. If a dancer knows she’ll land squarely in a pair of strong arms, she can travel there with abandon. She’s at her best when she knows she’s got the right support.

You can see the effects clearly when dancers who are longtime partners, trusted friends, or real-life couples dance together. The results can be performances you’ll never forget. American Ballet Theatre’s Alessandra Ferri and Julio Bocca were paired together in “Romeo and Juliet” frequently, and they were utterly devastating together. Now that he is retired, she dances with others, but it isn’t quite the same.

Sometimes an experienced male partner turns a young ballerina into a star; other times two dancers grow together. New York City Ballet’s Megan Fairchild, who was promoted to soloist in 2004, and Joaquin De Luz, who joined the company as a soloist in 2003, were paired together and started learning principal parts together. Now as principals, they’re more connected as a pair – and Ms. Fairchild projects more confidence than ever.

You can see all this unfold onstage, but you also can read it when dancers give interviews. Ask a female dancer about her partner, and she’ll sound like she’s talking about a really good boyfriend. I recently asked Miranda Weese what it’s like to dance with Albert Evans. Her response: “He’s intense and attentive. He’s got a great personality.” Who doesn’t want an intense, attentive guy with a great personality?

Now, it’s true that in narrative ballets, men are usually somehow in the wrong. The princes in “Giselle” and “Swan Lake” make major mistakes. They come back groveling, and they are forgiven. But it’s too late. They don’t get the girl. (Or in some endings, they’re together in death – slightly less than the best-case scenario.)

In the broader repertory, our hero pursues the heroine through any number of obstacles. He can travel through forests and underworlds, to ocean floors and gypsy camps. He can wind up in battles with slave traders, ghosts, and sorcerers. After all this, if he does get the girl, he still winds up with a face full of tutu while the crowd goes wild – for her.

But that’s what the art form is all about. George Balanchine had it right: “Ballet is woman.”

pcatton@nysun.com