PARIS — When Gerard Mortier, director of the Opera National de Paris, takes over New York City Opera in 2009, he is likely to present some very exciting work. Not just because he is a talented opera mind, but because Mr. Mortier comes from a European tradition in which the opera house is the home for opera and ballet, as well as academies. In Paris, Mr. Mortier runs opera and the umbrella organization that presents opera, ballet, concerts, in addition to a debate series and an international singing competition. Any performance that takes place under the auspices of the Opera National de Paris bears the organization’s name — and that of the director, Mr. Mortier.

His job in Paris has required a broad perspective and the insight to encourage creative thinking about presenting the arts as a whole. What’s exciting about his impending arrival is that his sort of background brings the promise of crossing over, reaching out, collaborating with, and delving into as much as possible from his post at City Opera. In other words, you will feel his presence, whether you’re an operagoer right now or not.

Last week, I experienced the reach and effects of his management first hand at performances in the two houses the opera maintains. Thursday night at the Palais Garnier, the Paris Opera Ballet’s production of “Proust ou les intermittences du Coeur,” a 1974 work by Roland Petit, made its premiere. Then on Friday night, I attended a performance of Rudolf Nureyev’s “Don Quixote,” which began a run on February 27 and will continue until April 1 at the Opera Bastille,

The two houses, and the two ballets, couldn’t be more different. Both houses, however, had one thing in common: They were packed. The Palais Garnier is an 1875 temple to the arts: On the exterior, rows of double columns lead the eye up to two gilt statues, between which are names of composers engraved in stone. Inside, the marble steps and balconies twist and turn so that you feel the drama of performance before you even approach your red velvet seat, of which there are about 2,000.

In contrast to all this classicism, the ballet on the (raked) stage was a modern, sleek production of “Proust ou les intermittences du Coeur.” The ballet consists of 13 vignettes inspired by the novel “A Remembrance of Things Past.” While the costumes suggested a period feel, the minimalist sets by Bernard Michel gave it all a fresh dazzle. In particular, a semicircle of crinkly white paper used for a chandelier lent the ballroom scene a modern elegance.

As for the dance, Mr. Petit creates movement that communicates in direct terms: When someone is angry, he shakes tight fists. When couples make love, there is no mistaking it. This is real storytelling, without ballet mime per se, and it demands more acting than dancing. The scene in which soldiers beat up our Monsieur Charles, Manuel Legris, was smoothly and movingly portrayed with a mix of acting and dance fighting. The most affecting of the pas de deux was a dance between two men, Stephane Bullion as Morel and Mathieau Ganio as Saint Loup. Other portions that included pure dance were technically clean, but less emotional.

Mr. Petit took a bow at the end of the performance, for which he received a hero’s welcome. Seeing his work in this theater, with these dancers, made me wonder why we don’t get more of his work in America. In the case of this particular ballet, much of this French audience has most likely read Proust; here, you really do see people reading Proust on the metro. But the reality is that the Petit sensibility is so direct and sometimes so piercing that it can make Americans squirm.

On Friday night, a more traditional ballet, “Don Quixote,” took the stage at the Opera Bastille. Built in 1985, this contemporary theater has the production space to mount opera and ballet with major scenery. It can seat about 2,700 people, which is roughly the same number as the New York State Theater, Mr. Mortier’s home-to-be.

This “Don Quixote” begins with a prelude in the Don’s study, where we see him tottering, reading, and battling his own shadow. Jean-Marie Didière played the Don with ease and honesty. The Don is a difficult, off-kilter role, but as was evidenced even later, this company possesses the good timing to pull off gags and physical comedy.

Kitri was danced by Agnès Letestu, a sterling classicist with a bright smile who is of the rank of étoile, the highest in the company. Her dancing in the dream sequence and the wedding pas de deux was an example of virtuoso control and brilliance. This, however, came long after her rushed entrance and a somewhat unconvincing bounciness in the marketplace. Basilio was danced by José Martinez, also an étoile, who is a lively dancer with long, thin legs that move with exquisite sharpness. He made for a top-notch partner, and like Jean-Guillaume Bart, who played Espada, displayed high polish. Mr. Bart, however, needed more sizzle.

Mallory Gaudion played Gamache, the wealthy local who seeks to marry Kitri, in a high, flitty way that worked just right. His green costume and white gloves made him wonderfully silly, and he knows how to play the fool to the hilt. If more of the dancers had been able to loosen up to enjoy their roles as much, we might have seen a more ebullient performance.

The perception of these two performances has little bearing on the upper management of the Opera as a whole. But what is important to understand is the range and scope of the artistic endeavors Mr. Mortier has overseen. In a sense, he has done double the duty he will face at City Opera, an organization that has a ways to go. Mr. Mortier can take them there — and will have much to offer New York City, too.