While doing that, he sees a flock of swans land on a lake and turn into beautiful women, led by Princess Odette (Angelica Generosa). Since this is a fairy tale, he falls instantly in love with her and proposes, but he is warned away by a wicked sorcerer (Otto Neubert). In the next three acts, the prince and the swans search for each other, are thwarted by an imitation princess (Generosa as the black swan, Odile), and are ultimately parted as the flock is compelled to fly away, leaving Siegfried heartbroken. Woven through this tragic fantasy are dance after dance of dramatic and beautiful expressions of love, optimism, and despair.

The most famous moments come at the entrance of 24 swans hopping and fluttering in sinuous curves, wearing white costumes that cleverly express the presence of wings. Later, in the dance of the cygnets, four young women face the audience, holding hands lattice-style, and execute two minutes of the most precise dancing imaginable, including 16 consecutive pas de chats, crossing ankles while airborne as they move sideways across the stage.

Madison Rayn Abeo, Malena Ani, Clara Ruf Maldonado, and Yuki Takahashi did a wonderful job in this iconic piece, which often heralds the emergence of future stars. Case in point: in the 2015 PNB production, one of the little cygnets was Angelica Generosa, who danced this evening's star turn as Odette/Odile. Likewise, this current revival of Swan Lake is a showcase for a new generation of PNB dancers.

Going to the Pacific Northwest Ballet in Seattle is a lot more casual and fun than in other cities with major dance companies. The audiences are dressed both up and down — from flowing gowns to tattered jeans — and they come in all ages, from toddlers with booster seats to elders with walking sticks. The lobby and promenades of McCaw Hall are full of attendees who represent a wide range of races and nationalities, and PNB's company of dancers have come to reflect that variety themselves. On opening night, the audience saw much more variation: curvy figures; flowing, braided, and knotted hair; tall dancers; short dancers; and a broad range of ages and origins.

How refreshing to see dancers who look more like us, no matter what we look like. We can imagine ourselves transported into that magical world more easily.

I also appreciated Stowell's choreography for very young dancers — pages following the Queen, an Indian princess with four smiling attendants, a ceremonial poesy of little girls in flowing white dresses.