Midnight chimes. A sinister bass clarinet throbs, a harp glints and the strings begin their ascent. Gary Avis’ debonair Drosselmeyer flings glitter to the heavens and the Christmas tree magically grows. This can only mean one thing: The Royal Ballet’s Nutcracker is back. Christmas has truly arrived and Tchaikovsky’s ballet continues to delight young and old with its festive magic, light dusting of snow and its chocolate-box score.
E.T.A. Hoffmann’s 1816 tale The Nutcracker and the Mouse King is a good deal darker than Petipa’s sweet-toothed synopsis for Tchaikovsky’s ballet. Peter Wright draws on Hoffmann to introduce some back-story that acts as a framing device to his 1984 production. The mysterious Drosselmeyer mourns his nephew (Hans Peter) who fell victim to the Mouse Queen’s curse, turning him into a nutcracker. Clara breaks the spell when she defeats the Mouse King in battle. Where many versions of the ballet end with Clara awakening from a dream, here it is Drosselmeyer who has been dozing, waking to discover his nephew has been restored to him.
Drosselmeyer plays a much more significant role in Wright’s version, escorting Clara and the Nutcracker to the Kingdom of Sweets (cleverly modelled on the cake he presents at the Stahlbaums’ Christmas party) and acting as Master of Ceremonies. Gary Avis plays him with avuncular, cape-twirling grace – everyone’s favourite uncle.
Francesca Hayward’s Clara was utterly charming, full of wide-eyed wonderment at Drosselmeyer’s party tricks. Where Clara is often reduced to the role of spectator or guest of honour in The Kingdom of Sweets, Wright has her joining in many of the dances in the Divertissement. Hayward relished this, her bourrés while shaded by two parasols in the Chinese Dance nearly light enough to send her airborne. She was partnered by Alexander Campbell’s beaming Nutcracker/Hans Peter, especially strong in his Act II mime where he narrates the dramatic events of Act I to the Sugar Plum Fairy.