The gleaming new Grand Canal Theatre in the Docklands may have a kitsch extravagance to it (notably in the outdoor lighting), but it does what it’s supposed to, and does it superbly: the sightlines are excellent, the auditorium a fine blend of tradition and technology, the towering proscenium arch beautifully set.

After the indignities of Dublin’s commercial venues, the acoustics here are impeccable. The RTÉ Concert Orchestra can rarely have sounded so vital. It was tempting, at times, to close eyes and simply listen to Tchaikovsky’s score.

All the more so during the tedious first scene of Swan Lake, comparable to one of the interminable court scenes in Shakespeare’s comedies. All spangly costumes and rigid smiles, this has all the personality of a ballerina music box.

In the second scene, the wife-hunting Prince Siegfried stumbles upon the lake of swans, and the ballet suddenly springs to life. The swans are girls who have been bewitched by the wicked magician Rothbart; happily for Siegfried, they return to their human form at night, and so he falls in love with their queen, Odette.

This scene is, appropriately, bewitching. The grace of the corps is astounding, the duet between the principals, Alexander Volchkov and Galina Stepanenko, mesmerising.

The course of true love never runs smooth, however, particularly when daylight turns your intended into a large bird.

And then the wicked magician Rothbart hatches a cunning plan, introducing his daughter, Odile, who bears a striking resemblance to Odette, to the prince. The prince is clearly a man easily led astray by a bit of skirt, and it seems as if the wicked Rothbart will foil young love.

It culminates in a showdown between the prince and the Batman-like villain. At the end, of course, Odette is freed of the spell; by then, it is us who are enchanted.