Clad in Alexa Behm’s costumes, sapphire blue tutus, replete with cerulean-colored faux jewels, their bunheads sporting make-believe tiaras, while not exactly Karinska-worthy (the great costumer and frequent Balanchine collaborator), nevertheless gave the ballerinas a neo-imperial feel. But it was the up-close and personal aspect of the decidedly cool underground space—the Bank of America Plaza—that proved detrimental to Jones’ intricate and detailed choreography.

With the performance area long and narrow, exits and entrances were not a problem, but being up close and personal as a viewer allowed for little or no perspective. And while beauty and dedication to craft reigned, at times the stage area was akin to being at Grand Central Station during rush hour, with this writer worrying about possible dancer collisions.

Happily, there were none, and with the sounds of pointe shoes adding a percussive quality, as well as another dimension to Schoenberg’s score, “Sapphires” worked better in the duet sections, where performers could move about with more freedom. That freedom, however, wasn’t readily apparent in the Adagio movement, with Chasen Greenwood not altogether assured in partnering Elise Filo. Quincey Smith and Jonas Tutaj, however, did manage to embody the irregular rhythmic thrusts of the Menuet, which flew by all too quickly before an octet of women, including Claire Bednarek, Sofie Treibitz and Brittany Yevoli, rushed the stage in, well, playful mode.

Alas, so many ballerinas, so little space—and so few men. Enter, then, the noble Maté Szentes, who, in partnering Madeline Houk, exuded warmth, precision and confidence in the Gavotte movement, as well as providing effortless, ebullient lifts. The finale, Gigue, saw the three couples again take to the floor, with Victoria Manning offering a lovely solo, before a gaggle of seven gals, among them, Kate Huntington, Emma Maples and Vanessa Meikle, executing a series of swift jetés.