The last time “Swan Lake” ran, the company had to cast some sparrows as Odette/Odile to fill out the run. This time, the bench of proper, leggy swans was deep, with Unity Phelan and Miriam Miller debuting alongside Nadon. There are a slew of candidates waiting in the wings too (Isabelle LaFreniere, Emily Kikta, Ashley Hod, Christina Clark, Ava Sautter, Savannah Durham, Mary Thomas Mackinnon). Since “Swan Lake” could successfully cycle in the rep for a while with these women, it would behoove City Ballet to fix some glaring issues with the production (with choreography by Peter Martins after Petipa, Ivanov, and Balanchine; sets by Per Kirkeby; and costumes by Per Kirkeby and Kirsten Lund Nielsen). Acts II and IV are great (I love Kirkeby’s fantastical and ominous abstract expressionism here), Acts I and III should be rethought.

Really, the entire production would be tremendously improved just by changing the Act I set, which is jarringly bad. The program claims that it depicts a palace garden, but it looks like a war zone. The murky, sandy palette and stony chunks of ruins do not make sense with the corps’ vibrant costumes, the Queen’s opulent gown and parasol-carrying entourage, or the pomp and grandeur of Tchaikovsky’s music—particularly the Cup Dance. And how the jester could ever fall asleep in that tiny, square, low-backed, wooden highchair of a throne (designed in Minecraft?) is a mystery to me. This is unfortunate, because Martins’s choreography for the villagers in this scene is sweeping and pretty. It is also musically interesting, as when the villagers move in 5-count phrases against the jester’s evenly bouncy tricks.

What trips Martins up, as usual, are the props and accoutrements (see “Sleeping Beauty’s” capes and swords and horror-flick baby doll). The Queen ceremoniously presents her son with a gilded bow that is paraded in on velvet pillows. Siegfried then shoves it behind his teensy chair, where it sticks out awkwardly for much of the act. It’s weird to stow a purse on the floor next to one’s chair in a restaurant; this is not a good spot for this golden gift. The way the jester collects Siegfried and his friends’ chalices at the front of the stage during the end of the Cup Dance is also unnecessarily distracting. (I think props and personal items genuinely baffle Martins. He often sent his glasses flying while demonstrating steps. And I once saw him get in an argument with TSA agents because he didn’t understand why his enormous metal lizard belt buckle had to be screened.) 

A redo of the Act III palace scenery would also be helpful, though it is less pressing. The severe wood plank benches are bad, but the swirly marble wall accents make some claim of a kingdom all those princesses think is worth marrying into. Although, the jester costume, not great in orange in Act I, is worse in Act III because the green hue and the addition of three students clad the same way makes for a brief Ninja Turtle invasion. The Act III set and props don’t detract from the narrative and the dancing like the Act I set and props do, at least. Because when you have leads this good, everything else should get out of their way.