From a distance, the Washington Ballet’s The Nutcracker glitters. But up close, the production shows its age. The hanging scenery is frayed. One of the carousel horse’s tails is glued back on. The settee where Clara falls asleep in act one is patched and tattered.

“It used to be just green,” says Suzi Kilbourne, production stage manager at the Washington Ballet. But the fabric became shabby enough that the crew swiped an unclaimed pashmina from the company’s lost and found and artfully stapled it on—with actual staples. 

Later, a dancer saw the settee and remarked that she used to have a scarf just like that one. 

“And we just said, ‘Oh really?’” Kilbourne says mischievously. 

This year is Kilbourne’s 12th Nutcracker with the Washington Ballet. Created by former artistic director Septime Webre, the show itself is 19 years old. This year, Webre quietly revisited his old work, making the choreography more intricate, deepening a few of the characters, and consulting on changes to costumes and set design. But that a production nearly two decades old still sparkles is a testament to the production staff’s devoted care.

Most professional ballet companies in the U.S. produce their own version of The Nutcracker. Webre premiered his in 2004, and the Washington Ballet still produces his version every year at the Warner Theatre. The elaborate, D.C.-themed show was reportedly so taxing—and Webre’s vision so demanding—that the dancers voted to unionize in February 2005. 

When the company management and the dancers couldn’t agree on working conditions, The Nutcracker season was canceled in 2005 after just a week of performances. The disagreements eventually got ironed out, and the dancers today are represented by the American Guild of Musical Artists, which enforces measures like break times and freshly cleaned costumes. 

Backstage, Christopher Insley points out the cherry blossom-covered tapestry that provides the backdrop in the “Springtime” movement in act two. Insley is the company’s longtime technical director. The silk screen is paper-thin, and the tiny petals are crumpled in places—but the scene is still one of the show’s most visually stunning. 

“They’ve lasted 20 years because I take good care of them,” Insley says. Asked his method, he says, “folding.” 

The tutus and waistcoats, fur and feathers weren’t all so fortunate. Audiences may notice a few strategic swaps by the wardrobe department. For instance, the little gray mice that frighten Clara in the first act are now bright white. The cherry blossom skirts have new tulle and fresh petals—a project that lasted from January to November of this year. 

“We make every effort and attempt to make them look as lavish as they once were. But sometimes if you look up close you see a lot of stitching and darning and patchwork,” says Monica Leland, the company’s wardrobe supervisor. 

Meanwhile, Kilbourne and the production crew had to track alongside Webre’s choreography changes, made on a quick visit in November. Even subtle shifts can create a flurry of updates in the technical choreography that happens backstage. 

For instance, the original Clara received a party dress in the opening scene, which her onstage mother would help her into. This year’s Clara receives pointe shoes—“a relief,” Kilbourne says. The young dancers who played Clara would often have to dash into the wings for help fastening the buttons. 

Another Webre change is adding an intricate little duet, called a pas de deux, between Clara and her Uncle Drosselmeyer as the Christmas tree magically grows. This unfolds just before the nutcracker doll is transformed into a life-size prince with a flash and a bang. Before, the dancers had plenty of time to get in position for the pyrotechnics.  

“Now Drosselmeyer has mere moments to get from the end of that pas, grab the nutcracker doll on the little settee where Clara left it, and get into position for the pyro,” says Kilbourne. “So I am watching very closely on my monitor … we fire the pyro on a particular musical cue, and now there is very little time for that sequence.” 

Webre also replaced the oddly placed Hopi Kachina doll (carved-wood dolls that represent spirits in the northern Arizona Hopi Tribe’s tradition) that Drosselmeyer brings to the party with a bald eagle. Rolled onstage inside a giant silver quarter, this moment didn’t feel smoothed into the overall production—at least in the Dec. 8 show. But the awkwardness clearly doesn’t fall to the dancer, Jie–Siou Wu, who also danced the acrobatic Frontiersman in act two and drew some of the loudest cheers for his back handsprings and aerial cartwheels. 

Next year, when Webre’s Nutcracker turns 20, incoming artistic director Edwaard Liang will be fully installed; the company promises even more changes planned for the 2024 show. Asked what those changes will be, Leland says, “No hints.” 

The Washington Ballet’s The Nutcracker runs through Dec. 30 at the Warner Theatre. washingtonballet.org. $70–$194.