Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker: triumphant, transformative power of love

It might not be an easy watch, but Tchaikovsky's beautiful score makes The Nutcracker an essential part of Christmas, writes Sarah Crompton.

Nao Sakuma as the Sugar Plum Fairy in Birmingham Royal Ballet's The Nutcracker Photo: Steve Hanson

By Sarah Crompton
7:41AM GMT 05 Dec 2011

Some peoples Christmases are measured by carols and cooking. Mine are shaped by The Nutcracker. This season, if I choose, I can see at least seven versions of Tchaikovskys famous ballet, in big productions by the Royal Ballet, English National Ballet and Birmingham Royal Ballet; on a small-scale tour by the Vienna Festival Ballet; beamed to cinemas from the New York City and Mariinsky Ballets, and at Sadlers Wells in a radical re-imagining by Matthew Bourne. All have in common the magnificent music, full of the darkness as well as the delights of winter; a great transformation where a home becomes unfamiliar ground on which a battle between good and evil is fought; a journey to a land of ice and snow; and a conclusion in the Kingdom of Sweets where there is a lot of pretty dancing. In every audience, there will be expectant children who have been taken to The Nutcracker as a Christmas treat. It may well be the first ballet they have seen; in some cases it could be the last. Given that it is a ballet full of children its heroine is a young girl called Clara, and it starts at a childrens party it can be surprisingly difficult for youngsters, or indeed adults, to watch. Its problems date back to its troubled inception. Tchaikovsky didnt like the plot, which took its theme from a story by one of the key figures in German Romanticism, ETA Hoffman (Offenbachs Tales of Hoffman was also based on three of his tales). Marius Petipa, the great inspiration of the Russian Imperial Ballet, fell ill just as rehearsals began, and handed over the work to his apprentice Lev Ivanov a good choreographer, but no genius. Then, when The Nutcracker opened in 1892, it prompted one of the most damning putdowns in dance history. The authors of ballet librettos never weary the intellect of lovers of choreography, wrote the incandescent critic. But The Nutcracker has no story at all. Shortly afterwards, it virtually vanished from the repertoire. But Tchaikovskys score was simply too good to lose; so ever since, various choreographers have tried to solve this undoubted difficulty in different ways. Rudolf Nureyev, for example, came up with a Freudian Nutcracker in which the clockmaker and magician Drosselmeyer turned into the Prince, taking Clara on a journey of sexual awakening. Mark Morriss brilliant The Hard Nut returns to the Hoffman tale of the beautiful Princess Pirlipat, who is made ugly by the Mouse Queen. The Nutcracker is Drosselmeyers nephew, who saves the Princess but is rejected by her because he loses his own looks in the process. Producer and choreographer Peter Wright is the current master of The Nutcracker, with two British productions to his credit and others round the world. His version for the Royal Ballet, which opened on Saturday, also uses Hoffmans original to bind together the two separate halves of the ballet. Here, Drosselmeyer (William Tuckett) is a guest at a Christmas party held at the home of his friends, the Stahlbaums and their daughter Clara. Its an event rooted, in Julia Trevelyan Omans designs, in firm reality: full of naughty boys, tender girls and fathers and grandfathers dancing. Drosselmeyer does conjuring tricks and gives Clara a Nutcracker doll. At night Drosselmeyer returns, and this recognisable room is transformed as the Christmas tree grows to four times its normal size. The toy soldiers come to life and, led by the Nutcracker, fight a battle with the wicked mice. Clara saves the Nutcracker by killing the Mouse King with her shoe, and he becomes Drosselmeyers handsome nephew. Part of the sensuous pleasure of this particular production is the way it uses the magic of the stage to convey other-worldly changes. Traps, lifts and strategically placed curtains do all the work, but as they fall into effortless place, changing the picture from house to a forest where snow falls as snowflakes dance, to the glistening pink palace that represents the Kingdom of Sweets, it is hard not to feel a thrill at the sheer wonder of it all. On Saturday, these settings were filled with such wonderful warmth that it felt as if Christmas had already arrived. Marienela Nuez stepped in for a sick Sarah Lamb to dance the Sugar Plum Fairy opposite her husband Thiago Soares, and together they gave a demonstration of rapturous classicism. But they were matched by the ardour of Iohna Loots as Clara and Ricardo Cervera as the Nutcracker, dancing in a way which showed they believed in the enchantment at the heart of the story; by Melissa Hamilton as a slinky Arabian dancer; by Laura Morera as the Rose Fairy. When a production of The Nutcracker is as whole-hearted as this, its power becomes apparent. The reason the work is loved so much is that it is about the transformative effects of love itself of Drosselmeyers for his nephew, of Claras for suffering humanity. In the most imaginatively magical way, it asserts our Christmas wish that good will triumph and that dreams will come true.