The Nutcracker Suite

Once upon a time a certain Herr Drosselmeier, a hunchbacked, cranky old toy-maker, fashioned a very special toy--a nutcracker--and gave it to little Clara Siberhaus at her parents' Christmas party. While the grown-ups dance a minuet, Clara's pesky brother Fritz snatches the nutcracker out of his sister's arms and dashes it to the floor. She gathers the damaged toy in her arms and to attempts to nurse it back to health.

At midnight the Nutcracker suddenly springs alive and the two sail through a corps de ballet of whirring snowflake, Sugar Plum Fairies, Candy Flowers and other whimsies of the Nutcracker Suite.

The Nutcracker Suite is to Christmas as fireworks are to the Fourth of July, and this Christmas nearly a half million people will see Tchaikovsky's classic ballet. Last weekend the Boston Ballet, supported by guest stars from Ballanchine's New York City Ballet, gave three performances. Despite its popularity, the derogatory comments heaped on the ballet at its first performance in St. Petersburg in 1892 are still true. The music though lyrical, is Tchaikovsky at his most saccharine; the choreoraphy of Pea, the Russian master, and his assistant Ivanov, allows a lot of room for horseplay and very little for real ballet.

The production by the Boston ballet was remodeled by Virginia Williams. Too often the result is painfully disconnected, sliding over the more intense moments in the score with a frivolous pat-de-chat and dwelling on the lighter moments in a tight pirouette. This was especially true in the dance of the Dew Drop Fairy, one of the two major roles in the ballet. Nevertheless, June Perry by far outshone the rest of the Boston Company in that role and stood up well against the sugar plum fairy of guest performer Violet Verdy, one of this country's best ballerinas. These two, along with the City Ballet's Earle Sieveling as the Cavalier, more than reminded one of how exhilarating really fine ballet can be.

The Boston production, though it probably had more than its share of the weaknesses inherent in the Nutcracker, was not a disappointment. The sets were delightfully incongruous, a combination of Biedermeier elegance and Oriental richness. The costumes were frothy if not very original. And the children, as mice, candy canes, or the tiny, pink ginger cooky (who emerged from under the huge skirts of Mother Ginger and almost didn't find her way back) were enough to spark a Christmas glow in even the coldest, neon-lit heart.

And that, it seems, should be reason enough to explain the Nutcracker's increasing popularity over the 75 years since it was first performed.