Washington Ballet's Nutcracker

A Washington "Nutcracker"

Septime Webre’s "The Nutcracker"
The Washington Ballet
Warner Theatre
Washington, D.C.
December 21, 2006 (December 7-23 with cast changes)

by Lisa Traiger
copyright 2006 by Lisa Traiger

What is it that keeps us returning, year after year, to “The Nutcracker”? In this, the 21st century’s, era of electronica, if a gift doesn’t contain a chip, video component or cartridge; if it doesn’t bleep, blink or vibrate, it’s not Christmas-tree worthy. Yet, audiences of all ages and stripes still can’t seem to get enough of a 19th-century ballet called “The Nutcracker”. Legions of families regard an annual visit a de rigeur part of the holiday season.

But what to make of this window opened onto old-fashioned, 19th-century values of family abundance and collegiality that dominates the act I party scene and of magical dreams made tangible in act II’s Kingdom of the Sweets? This 21st-century yearning for 19th-century simplicity seems all the more poignant in an era of KGOY? What’s KGOY, you ask? The Washington Post’s op-ed columnist Ruth Marcus recently put a name to the phenomenon that toy stores and toy-centered gift giving are now becoming nearly obsolete for children even as young as six. When 11-year-olds vie for their own cell phones, the gift of choice on sixth-grade playgrounds these days (so my daughter fruitlessly informs me), and six-year-olds have long since outgrown their closet full of headless and armless Barbies; when eight-year-olds are no longer enticed by a pristine pile of Legos and Hotwheels have lost their heat, we’re now firmly enmeshed in the era of Kids Getting Older Younger – KGOY, that is. Nearly every parent knows that if a gift doesn’t come packaged with a chip, cartridge or disk, it’s not really Christmas.

And yet, Tchaikovsky’s music, Petipa’s remnants of choreography and that European fairy-tale pedigree still capture imaginations every December.

The Washington Ballet’s artistic director Septime Webre two years ago gave the city a long-awaited “new” “Nutcracker,” replacing founder Mary Day’s stalwart version, which had grown shabby around its edges as successive generations molded themselves into worn costumes and dusty sets. And while last year’s run of this new version was truncated by a walkout as the company worked through protracted negotiations to unionize, like the fairy-tale story itself, the ballet company seems to have survived, Webre and his dancers living and working together happily ever after, as it were.

This year, Webre’s attractive “Nutcracker” has a more assured look and, for Washingtonians of long tenure, it casts a mirror on our city and our local history that feels especially right. Clara’s family lives in a gorgeous Georgetown mansion, surrounded by an elegant wrought iron gate. Set in 1882, Webre intersperses hints of 19th-century Americana — like the Indian headdresses the boys receive as gifts, and the presence of prominent D.C. resident Frederick Douglass as a distinguished party guest — that marks this “Nutcracker” as homegrown. It feels more rooted in place than the touring productions the Kennedy Center brings in (this year it was the Joffrey’s lovely Victorian American version, a few years back it was the macabre gothic Kirov “black snow’ version). Webre’s Act II, which always allows for creative touches, is no longer the Kingdom of the Sweets, but in a wash of the palest pink, it’s Springtime Under the Cherry Blossoms. And anyone who has visited the Tidal Basin in April as the cherry blossoms reach their peak, the understated pinkish hue of the designer Peter Horne’s backdrop and Judanna Lynn’s costumes is unmistakable.

The ballet opens with party guests parading through snowy Georgetown (alas, even if it never snows on Christmas in Washington, at least not since Al Gore made the phenomenon of global warming a household word!). Off to the side Clara (charming Leslie Fuentes-Rodriguez on Dec. 21) puts on her party dress, as her mother, elegant Erin Mahoney-Du, assists. Clara’s family, household and guests are all equally well-scrubbed, and attractive, particularly in Lynn’s richly colored fabrics, plenty of red, white and blue for the prep school boys and the military family, with rich burgundies, grays and plums for others. A few standouts include Rui Huang’s maid all abuzz with her trembling bustle, and Stephen Baranovics’ increasingly tipsy grandfather, a sight wobbling in his Scottish kilt and cane. Luis Torres embodies a handsome and attentive father (more 1990s than 1880s, perhaps), while Ian Dragulet’s Fritz has enough mischief to make Clara mad.

The Washington Ballet’s Clara is just right, age-wise. Neither child nor adult, she’s on the cusp of womanhood, dancing on pointe, but her steps more basic than the true ballerina roles she’ll admire from the sidelines in Act II. And Fuentes-Rodriguez displays both girlish glee at receiving the gift of a wooden nutcracker (no batteries included) and pre-teen wonderment as she primps and later sighs at meeting her Uncle Drosselmeyer’s nephew, Kenuke Yorozu on Thursday, perhaps slightly older, but not yet Cavalier material. Drosselmeyer’s party surprise, dancing dolls — a patriotic John Paul Jones and Miss Liberty (studio company member Corey Landolt and student Kara Cooper) and Katchina, a Native American resembling a totem pole figure (Aaron Jackson) — fit nicely into Webre’s Americana theme. And the party dances, quick, simple, easy-on-the eyes, perfectly complement in Act I.

The battle scene features patriotic dolls resembling Betsy Ross and Ben Franklin, a rat king dressed like King George and Valley Forge bunnies that look like the book and PBS cartoon character Arthur. The regiments feature an American Cavalry that battles the British Red Coat rats, remnants of Revolutionary era war history now mostly embedded in America’s collective unconscious. And when The Nutcracker, masked like George Washington, wins the battle, it’s without an assist from Clara’s shoe, as in many productions.

The snow scene, icy blue, as dancers whip around swirls and eddies before a backdrop of the Tidal Basin with the Jefferson and Lincoln Memorials. Regally Elizabeth Gaither’s Sugar Plum Fairy brings Clara and her prince to the cherry blossom pink spring, where the dancing children are little and big butterflies, mushrooms, foxes, squirrels, deer and frogs, all flora and fauna reminiscent of the local landscape. Gaither’s Sugar Plum Fairy remained a bit on the cool, reserved side, while her cavalier Jared Nelson waned slightly in his variation.

But the traditional variations project a fresh and playful sensibility. A bubbly Chinese dance was among the notable variations, busy though it was, with its little and big fishermen, umbrella-twirling girls who create the tail of a giant carp, and a cohort of ribbon-tossing dancers too. The sensual Arabian variation has been turned into a duet for Anacostia Indians, but remains as acrobatic and sexy in the able hands of ErinMahoney-Du and Runqiao Du. Other variations feature frontiersmen, red cardinals and a tom cat (in a nod to “The Sleeping Beauty” variation), a big-top carousel and a Mother Barnum replacing Mother Ginger, with a clique of tumbling clowns. It all works exceedingly well and under Webre’s direction, with a quartet of ballet masters (Sherry Alban, Rebecca Erhart, CeCe Farha and Holly Rasmussen) to oversee the many children’s roles, moves along at a brisk and fun-filled pace. By the time Clara is ready to return — and she traveled the Potomac on a steamboat — to Georgetown, our senses have been suitably sated, what with the able conducting of Scott Speck of his in-house orchestra, the well-modulated lighting of Tony Tucci, and the fine production values.

For two hours The Washington Ballet shows us what it’s like to live without batteries and disks, cartridges and bling. The evening I attended, late in the run, the audience got it, mesmerized by the picture postcard of a once-upon-a-time Christmas past. And the audience was equally moved by the pre-curtain announcement welcoming wounded military personnel from Walter Reed Army Medical Center along with their families. Webre has wrought for Washington a gift to his adopted city that should be appreciated for years to come. And for a few hours, it allows kids to still be kids, without electronic enticements.

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