Why I Prefer Student Performances of The Nutcracker Ballet
Every year, thousands of patrons flock to the theatres to see The Nutcracker ballet live onstage. It's amazing how Tchaikovsky's music has withstood the test of time, ever since 1892 in St. Petersburg, Russia. To learn that it wasn't initially popular is a testament that sometimes classics become classics only after time and revision.
George Balanchine's version of The Nutcracker in 1954 is what really brought it to the forefront of family fun (though I'd argue that anything Balanchine made or did was destined for success, given his popularity and ballet mania at the time).
But last year, instead of watching yet another movie "re-envisioning" (looking at you, The Nutcracker and the Four Realms) or visiting The National Ballet of Canada, I chose to volunteer at and attend my ballet studio's student performance of The Nutcracker instead. (When I say "my" studio, I mean where I take regular classes.)
The volunteering was a tad awkward, since I was asked more than once, "Which one is yours?" while combing the hair of a throng of eight-year-olds. What can I say? It's not too common to find single women volunteering backstage at a studio recital just for the sake of it.
(Non)Motherhood aside, I loved the show itself. During dress rehearsal, I watched it from the TV in the youngsters' change room. For opening night, I took my seat in the house.
I'd seen these children from elementary school age all the way to pre-college rehearsing in the studios multiple times a week. Seeing them onstage was another thing altogether. Combined with the lighting and costumes, those dancers looked like real professionals (and, to be sure, some of them are definitely on the cusp of being accepted into vocational institutions).
It wasn't just the "look." They had real technique.
Toronto has quite an expansive studio and competition circuit – you know the type: classes in everything from jazz to ballet to hip hop to musical theatre. And never forget Song and Dance! A favourite with the youngsters.
But apart from these run-of-the-mill studios, wherein students typically learn a variety of styles once or twice a week, there's also a rather strong and very virtuosic classical ballet circuit.
These studios are usually run by Russian or Ukrainian owners (former ballerinas themselves) and/or their descendants, and their top teachers are usually Russian or Ukrainian as well.
Given the world-class training of such people, these studios have made a name for themselves in turning out (pun intended) the best pre-professional classical dancers the city can see.
Instead of a general recital at the end of the year featuring three-minute songs in all the styles possible, these studios put on full-length ballet productions like Cinderella, The Nutcracker, and Alice in Wonderland.
It's not everyone who can become a prima donna within their studio, either. It comes down to a combination of hard work, talent, and practice – bonus if you have a great attitude. That's why the lead roles in their productions are often given to a select few students who have demonstrated exceptional resilience and exquisite technique.
But a star is not made alone, and the collective effort of all the students and teachers is what made it special – I know this. I'd heard all the horror stories about the costume-making. I'd seen the girls staying late hours at the studio like it was their second home and gossiping in the change room in that unique window of time before adulthood.
There's something so raw, tentative, and yet mature at the same time about student performances. When you go see a company like The National Ballet of Canada, you go in knowing that anything they do will be at least good. It's basic standards at that point.
A large company obviously has its advantages, like the budget for full-out costume and set designs, gorgeous lighting looks, and the space for rehearsal in the context of a full-time job.
However, sometimes the big budget is exactly what breaks a production. One can have money and not know what to do with it or not use it well. I'm not saying NBoC's The Nutcracker isn't great, because it is, but I realized one of the reasons I liked my studio's version better is because I could actually focus on the dancing without the addition of ultra-fancy sets.
In lighting design, we have a saying that the best lighting is one the audience doesn't notice. It's the same idea here. Less is often more in a stage format.
Almost ironically, as I type this, my studio had moved their production this year to a much larger (and more expensive) theatre. The walls were built with an LED mosaic that could add special effects, and they made full use of the gobos available, shining fun, spiraling patterns on the curtain.
It was definitely a step up from the old theatre, equipment-wise. I'm glad that it didn't outshine the actual dancing.
I admit I played the ol' switcheroo trick here in order to see the show from a better vantage point. I'd purchased the cheapest tier available and then an hour before the show, visited the ticketing site again and noted the remaining available seats. I confirmed this at box office before nervously plopping myself down in one of the most expensive ones.
(Hey, no judging – remember I said the new theatre was expensive to rent, so the seat prices more than doubled in price from last year.)
The view still wasn't the best, but I could see the faces and expressions of each student clearly, and I found I really enjoyed observing their micro-expressions. It was infinitely interesting to see how they changed their decorum from studio to stage. One sweet little girl had eyebrows to rival Emilia Clarke's – they were so mobile and expressive.
Along with the acting chops also came a greater sense of risk – one you don't often find with a large, established company. Slip-ups happen; people make mistakes. It's how they pull through that's an agile sign of real growth and collectedness.
The prima ballerina of the show, in her first pas de deux with the prince, had the heel of her pointe shoe slip off right before a series of turns across the stage. Luckily, most eyes were on the prince as he traveled across the forefront, and by the time she was done hopping awkwardly in the back to pull the shoe back on, and the prince turned around, it was like nothing had happened. I don't even think the prince knew anything was wrong.
Another adjustment came with two girls leading a toy lamb across the stage in a duet. As the first girl handed the ribbon (the lamb's "leash") to her partner, she gracefully curtsied in a spontaneous guise to push the lamb into proper position. It was very smooth.
The prince, by the way, was a guest artist from a very large company himself. I can only imagine the paycheque it must've taken to invite him. Simultaneously, I marveled at the capacity of these studios to invite such artists and the students' opportunities to perform with professionals even before high school graduation.
Something else of note is the ebb and flow of talent year-to-year. This year, I noticed there was a marked increase in class sizes, with students converting from other studios as well as tiny tots starting their ballet journey. Choreography thus was slightly different from last year, and there was quite an increase in acrobatic talent.
One impressive new girl stunned onstage as she rolled into a reverse back arch, feet folding over all the way to her head. It's like she had no bones. She let out a small, satisfied smile amid her concentration as the audience clapped for her.
Then there's the humour: seeing little ones bopping to the music in chaotic plies and tendus as their parents watch on. I'll always be surprised at the sudden gunshot that occurs when a poor mouse is killed in an interaction with the Nutcracker.
It's seeing these students' rewards and opportunities that makes their production of The Nutcracker (and any other) more satisfying to watch. There's always that bit of extra spunk in their steps.
At the end of the day, student performances are about relationships. The vast majority of the audience are parents, non-performing students, sponsors, and perhaps a visit from the local mayor. Understandably, if you don't have a personal relationship with a studio, you likely won't pay to go see their show.
But I really encourage everyone to see a student dance show once in their lifetime and get a taste of what the next generation is up to. University graduate shows are a great option as well, and these tend to attract a wider, more neutral audience.
Youth. Vitality. Risk. Hope, unencumbered by the realities of adulthood. These are the qualities that make a student performance worth watching.
