The Nutcracker: Beauty Undimmed
Bass Concert Hall,through December 23
Running Time: 2 hrs
So many things look different in the wake of September’s attacks that you begin to wonder if everything you see will be somehow informed by those earth-shattering events. Then you come to The Nutcracker and find that there is at least one piece of our world that remains as it has ever been. As staged by Ballet Austin for the 39th time, with choreography by Ballet Austin Artistic Director Stephen Mills, this tale is still a charming fantasy, a story of Christmas and girlhood dreams and beauty and enchantment.
As portrayed by Jordan Walker, Clara is the engaging heroine we’ve come to know so well: A girl perched on the edge of womanhood whose love for a nutcracker and courage when he is threatened destroys a wicked rodent and delivers her a handsome prince. (Clara does get a slight upgrade in the armament department this year; instead of using her shoe to dispatch the Rat King, she gets to thwack him with the flat of the Nutcracker’s blade.)
Her rewards for this valor — visits to the Lands of Snow and Sweets — are as rich in grace as ever. The Snowflakes float across the stage in a courtly flurry, the lightness of their turns and gestures before Richard Isackes’ painted riverscape of fir thickets and icy waters blanketed in white creating an elegant vision of winter in motion. And there is such youthful zest and cheer in the dancing of Gina Patterson and Anthony Casati as the Snow Queen and King that these monarchs radiate a wonderfully paradoxical warmth. The assorted sweets from around the world who dance for Clara’s delight do so with verve, giving us these brief bursts of color and athleticism that charm (among the most notable: Chris Hannon, carrying off the Russian’s impressive leaps and spins with an air of bravado and panache). And the Sugar Plum Fairy, as performed by Margot Brown, is the sort of enchanted royalty that dance in the visions in children’s heads. She holds herself with a remarkable poise, and the flow of her limbs is so silken, so dignified, that her every gliding motion appears as naturally regal as those of a swan.
These wonders have provided a familiar comfort in Decembers past, the comfort of a tradition during the holidays, but they may never be more comforting than in this December, when they reveal a landscape whose beauty is undimmed by tragedy, whose magic is untouched by war.
This article appears in December 21 • 2001.