The Royal Ballet doesn’t bring its Nutcracker down from the loft every year, but no production more reliably begins the festive season. The 1984 production by Sir Peter Wright – 96 and still going strong, as shown by his stick-waving curtain call – is classy and correct. Less Heston From Waitrose, more a classic slice of Mary Berry.
On opening night, Gary Avis’ heartfelt Drosselmeyer gave the show its tender core. The magician’s nephew has been turned into a nutcracker doll, so at the Stahlbaums’ Christmas party, he entrusts it to young Clara, who immediately cradles it. The nutcracker is in safe hands – and comes to life after bedtime, joining Clara to battle marauding mice and then visit the Kingdom of Sweets.
This isn’t the most overtly dramatic Nutcracker – but it’s 2022 and you can have too much drama. If we hug the venerable ballet close, perhaps it’s because, for all the sugar, it’s a work about home and family.
Tchaikovsky’s beloved sister died just before he wrote this score, and sorrow lurks beneath the sparkle: as with all family gatherings, you’re acutely conscious of children growing up, seniors looking frailer, absences at the feast. Eyes prickle at Tchaikovsky’s melodies, even if you can’t say why.
This was the 522nd Nutcracker at the Royal Opera House, but the orchestra under Barry Wordsworth made the score’s excited flurries sound adoringly fresh. Detailed turns among the solid ensemble include Kristen McNally’s smug dancing mistress, Leo Dixon’s tilting harlequin and Logan James as Clara’s brattish brother, a real little goblin.
The fantasy dances demand elegance: Mayara Magri’s plush fairy dips and swirls, while sinuous Melissa Hamilton and Lukas Bjørneboe Brændsrød give the Arabian dance a lick of sensuality.
Julia Trevelyan Oman’s sumptuous designs are showstopper bakes: the Stahlbaums’ home might be pure gingerbread, the Sugar Plum Fairy’s palace confected from marzipan and royal icing. Snowy backdrops appear generously dusted with icing sugar.
Isabella Gasparini’s Clara stands sweet amid the scenery. Awed and dreamy, she looks spooked when toys spring to life, but confronts the mice and their fighty paws: this night marks a step toward adulthood. She and James Hay’s charming Nutcracker trace excited circles round the stage, and his lips graze her knuckles as snow falls – unbearably romantic.
Crowning the ballet’s climax, the Sugar Plum and her prince are killer roles: offstage for almost two hours, then having to deliver dressage levels of classical technique. Yasmine Naghdi and a sprightly Matthew Ball set the bar high, their every turn crisp as a sugared almond. Naghdi’s arms trail with gentle precision, while her ankles seem both tough as titanium and flexible as the softest chamois. You can only surrender to the festive magic.
