We are very fortunate in the UK to be home to not one, but two versions of The Nutcracker by Sir Peter Wright. Following his production for Birmingham Royal Ballet in the 1990s, Anthony Dowell asked him to revise his original Covent Garden production for The Royal Ballet, bringing in some of the Birmingham magic effects, including upgrading the engineering mechanisms for the growth of the tree, and updating much of the choreography (but, wisely, leaving the grand pas de deux intact).
The version we see today, now institutionalised as the official start of Christmas at Covent Garden, solves the major problems for a choreographer inherent in ETA Hoffman’s story, namely the “main character focus” – who actually is the main character? – and the disparity between the first act and the second. In many versions one feels one is watching two separate ballets. A minor element of this remains, but this is now largely due to the somewhat dowdy designs for Act 1 and the sparkle and glitter of Act 2.
To achieve a through-narrative, Wright cleverly puts Drosselmeyer at the centre of all the action in his quest to free his beloved nephew, Hans-Peter, from the spell that turned him into a Nutcracker. The party gives him the perfect opportunity to observe Clara’s caring, compassionate reaction when Fritz breaks the Nutcracker; the fight between the mice and the soldiers allows him to see her bravery and ingenuity; her humble joy and delight in the journey through the Land of Snow to the Kingdom of Sweets – every moment serves to confirm Drosselmeyer’s intuition that she will be the one who can save his nephew.
The miming of the battle tale by Hans-Peter for Sugar Plum and the Prince in Act 2 is eloquent and accessible. It really is as perfect a production as can be wished for, (although I would like to see some townsfolk onstage in Act 2 to populate the stage) and it all makes sense.
Tchaikovsky’s sublime music makes one’s heart sing every time, no matter how many hundreds of times one may have heard it. Even the party music has plenty of drama and colour nestled in among the lighthearted social dancing. Choreographically, of course, it’s a delight from start to finish. The pleasures of the intricate patterns and shapes in the snow scene and the feast of steps in the Waltz of the Flowers give the corps de ballet challenging and rewarding work to do. Adding the role of the Rose Fairy, with her truly lovely choreography, reflects the music perfectly and gives the scene a centre and a focus.
Opening night brought us a splendid cast and plenty of exceptional dancing. The corps de ballet, brilliantly rehearsed, sparkled through the snow scene. Caspar Lench and Taisuke Nakao brought thrilling virtuosity to the Chinese Dance. Leo Dixon is excellent as Hans-Peter/the Nutcracker, his matinee-idol looks matched by a gentlemanly manner with his fellow principals and well-placed, elegant dancing.
Viola Pantuso gets the role of Clara spot-on, never overly whimsical or too grown-up, and dances with bags of youthful energy and marvellous technique. She really is one to watch and over time she will be able to relax into her dancing to iron out the occasional spikiness where softness would be more appropriate. Thomas Whitehead makes Drosselmeyer a watchful, avuncular presence. Sae Maeda gave a flawless accent of the Rose Fairy, showcasing perfect placement, lovely lines and refined musicality.
Over the years I have used up all my superlatives when writing about Fumi Kaneko and William Bracewell in The Sugar Plum/Prince roles; I remember at a previous performance hearing a neighbouring audience member say ‘you will never, ever, see it danced better than that’, and I second that wholeheartedly. Kaneko and Bracewell have developed a pure artistic chemistry and set it alongside gleaming classical technique that is pure joy to look at, each showing the other’s lines to best advantage and exuding sheer class. Not all dancers get inside choreography as these two do.
At the final curtain the audience, already ecstatic, was treated to the ultimate reward, as Sir Peter Wright was brought on stage to receive our warm appreciation. It was his 99th birthday, and there was a banner and a glorious-looking cake, but best of all was the warmth of the waves of love that washed over him from the cast and staff. Truly, he is a legend in his own lifetime.
