” The Nutcracker : A Memory to be made” reviewed by CJ Hyland

[rating=4]Since the holiday season is all about giving, connecting and spending time creating memories with the ones you love, I’ve decided to write this review through my mother’s eyes. A fresh perspective from the woman who acquainted me with and, without a doubt, instilled in me my love of dance.

What is you first memory? How old were you when you made it? Can you say? I can. I was six, it was the holiday season, and my mother had planned a girl’s outing, just for us, to go into the city to see the ballet, and I was over-the-moon excited. It was the first of what would become many such outings, but being the first, this one is especially meaningful. That excursion remains a visceral memory, employing all of my senses when I revisit it, and taking me back to a time of innocence, when I wasn’t so jaded and life was full of wonder, promise, and possibility.

A truer, more amazing gift has never been given to me, so, in the spirit of the season, my hope was in brining my mother with me to experience our new and gorgeous rendition of this classic work, her first time back to the ballet in over 15 years, that I could give to her, and, through her, give to all of you that same gift. With that idea in mind, last evening, my mother and I got all dolled up and made our way to the Auditorium Theatre in downtown Chicago to take in the opening night of the Joffrey Ballet’s modernized but no less stunning version of Tchaikovsky’s masterpiece, “The Nutcracker.”

Just walking up to the Auditorium Theatre, The Joffrey Ballet’s home for the last 24 seasons, and the final year “The Nutcracker” will grace its stage, arm in arm with my mother was a treat. I reveled in watching the wispy breath curling from her nose and mouth in the cold, crisp evening air, in observing her take in the city and the crowds all resplendently arrayed and decorated for the season, and in feeling the squeeze of her arm as the palpable excitement and anticipation of the evening’s festivities ahead took her in its grip. Her eyes were shining, her smile was enormous, she was effervescing with wonder and enthusiasm at all she was encountering around her and, in that second, I knew this was going to be everything I had hoped and more.

Dancing “The Nutcracker” during the holiday season is a tradition for almost all established ballet companies around the country, and The Joffrey Ballet is no different, previously dancing founder Robert Joffrey’s version every yuletide since its world premiere in 1987. Yet, the Joffrey’s Nutcracker is no longer your conventional Nutcracker, and, in that, we are truly a fortunate city. Never being a company to rest on their laurels and in keeping with their commitment to artistic excellence and innovation, in 2015 they improved upon this holiday ritual with an exquisitely re-imagined dance performance by award-winning choreographer Christopher Wheeldon.

Now set in southside Chicago leading up to the 1893 Columbian Exposition, Wheeldon’s brilliantly conceived work honors both Daniel Burnham’s genius and our fair city, rooting the ballet in the construction of the very building my mother and I were now walking into, Roosevelt University’s Auditorium Theatre. Purposefully keeping the details of the new ballet from my mother, we quickly procured our obligatory glasses of bubbly, collected our programs and made our way into the theater to find our seats, just as the lobby lights flashed for the last time pre-performance. Entering the theater space for the first time, my mother’s eyes were the size of saucers as she soaked in the opulence and grandeur of her surroundings, and I heard her say sotto voce, “Beautiful. I have missed this.” As the lights dimmed, the curtain rose and the opening notes trilled up from the orchestra pit, my mother turned to me, smiled and took my hand in hers, keeping true to our “Nutcracker” holiday tradition, and we were off.

An expression of surprised wonderment crossed my mother’s face as she took in the patched clapboard fence and framed out pavilions constituting the construction site of the World’s Columbian Exposition on Christmas Eve 1892, the opening set of the ballet. Shoppers festooned in holiday garb greeted each other, an impish group of ragamuffins romped and cavorted creating good-natured mischief, rats, ingenious puppets designed by Basil Twist, scurry about the street and atop the fence surrounding the construction site and, of course, Marie, danced scrumptiously this evening by Anais Bueno, and Franz are there soaking in all of the excitement of the season and of the upcoming exposition. Suddenly, the fence lifts to reveal an immigrant worker’s shack, an idea inspired by a historic image from the original construction site, and, in our story, home to Marie, Franz and their mother, charmingly portrayed by April Daly, a widowed sculptress, who is creating the seminal statue that will preside over the exposition. My mother practically squealed with delight as the workers from the fair, dressed in muted yet festive migrant caps and kerchiefs, gathered to perform the traditional folk dances of their origins, and when The Great Impresario, danced impeccably by the formidable and fabulous Fabrice Calmels, and his apprentice, Greig Matthews, made their grand entrance, heralding all the wonders of the fair, she was beaming.

As the festivities wind down, Marie takes the Nutcracker, her gift from the evening, to bed and falls sound asleep lovingly cradling the wooden doll in her arms. To a grunt of disgust from my mother, the rats return and kidnap Franz, awakening Marie who is shocked and dismayed at this turn of events. Fortunately for the two, The Great Impresario triumphantly arrives and, with a wave of his hand, and a little help from the masterful projections of 59 Productions, the bedraggled little Christmas tree spectacularly expands to fill the whole stage. My mother gasped watching the tree burst forth in all its resplendent glory, and her eyes shone as the now full-sized, animated Nutcracker King, danced by Matthews, went into an energetic battle of leaps and turns, eventually slaying the Rat King and rescuing Franz. As snow softly begins to fall, a lovely chorus of dancers in flowing white costumes enter to perform a captivating number, as if in a snow-globe, and the Nutcracker, now magically transformed into Prince Peter, Marie and The Great Impresario board an enchanted gondola that whisks them off into the night to discover all the marvels of this wondrous new world. As the curtain came down on the first act, my mother leaned back in her seat and, with her hand to her chest, heaved an enraptured sigh. “I cannot wait for the next act,” were her emphatic words as we exited the theater to get another glass of champagne. My sentiments exactly.

My mother was brimming with enthusiasm for the spectacle to come as we took our seats for Act II. With the rising of the curtain, The Great Impresario, Marie and Prince Peter are deposited at the entrance to the Great Exposition, now a dazzling, and glorious affair, where they are greeted by The Queen of the Fair, also danced by April Daly and attired in a stunning golden ensemble. In a luminous and technically flawless solo, The Queen welcomes the three travelers and ushers them into the dream fair to explore the various foreign pavilions; Spain, Arabia, China, Venice and the Wild West. My mother gasped with delight as the Arabian dancers, Jeraldine Mendoza and Dylan Gutierrez, performed a gorgeous number of athletic lifts and leaps and she was entranced by the explosive performance of Fernando Duarte, as the Chinese dancer, partnered by two splendidly frolicking red dragon puppets.

As Marie and Prince Peter finish their world tour, the expo is in full swing, and the stage fills with fair goers festooned in colorful bonnets and top hats, who perform a rollicking number of petti-coat flying leaps and jacket-flaring spins. The Pax de Deux between The Great Impresario and The Queen of the Fair is a breathtaking number full of the sensuality and grace as well as the power and technical mastery we have come to expect from the Joffrey Ballet. As Daly and Calmels executed their final pass and the fair exploded with light, my mother sighed and squeezed my hand. With that, the Dream Fair fades away and Marie finds herself back in her cottage waking to Christmas morning with her family. As the scene froze in an intimate tableau of familial repast and Scott Speck and the Chicago Philharmonic played the final notes of Tchaikovsky’s masterpiece, my mother turned to me and, with a radiant smile and tears in her eyes, said, “Thank you for such a beautiful night of ballet with my daughter. I could not have wished for a more perfect gift.” A superb close to a glorious evening

Unfortunately, much like Marie’s Dream Fair, last night’s excursion with my mother occurred only in my mind. Earlier this year she was diagnosed with a form of dementia that makes adventures like this an impossibility for her, and so I’ve lost the chance to create a new memory to cherish, a fact even more tragic with the knowledge that I will soon lose her as well. The holidays should be about coming together and celebrating the ones you love, and as I’ve learned, much to my sadness and regret, time is not infinite and one day such celebrations may no longer be feasible. I encourage all of you not to make my mistake of thinking, “there is always next year.” Go out, grab the ones you love and make as many memories with them as you can, for it is they that will carry and sustain you when such actions are no longer possible. My mother would have adored this gorgeous new Nutcracker as much as I do, and I whole-heartedly encourage all of you to go see it and create your own holiday traditions and remembrances. I will always have my first trip to The Nutcracker with my mother as well as all of the other dance memories we compiled over the years, and, sadly, that is enough, it will have to be. How fortunate I am to have them; they are truly my greatest treasure.

For my mother; my parent, my champion, my friend, I love you.

Performance schedule:

Show Type: Performance Art

Box Office: 800-775-2000

www.joffrey.org

Auditorium Theatre located at  Congress/Ida B. Welles between Michigan Avenue and Wabash Avenue

Tickets start at $35

312-386-8905

To see what others are saying, visit www.theatreinchicago.com, go to Review Roundup and click at Nutcracker