Louise Levene

The Nutcracker wasn’t always considered quite such a box of delights

How did this strange, lopsided ballet – critically panned at its première – become so ubiquitous?

Peter Wright’s sublime, button-backed production of The Nutcracker for the Royal Ballet. Credit: Roh/Tristram Kenton 
issue 18 December 2021

E.T.A. Hoffmann’s tale of a young man turned into a novelty kitchen gadget by an evil rodent isn’t obvious dance material, and yet here we are, up to our plastic tiaras in sugar plums. Four Nutcrackers in London alone and an average of 200 productions, amateur and professional, across the Atlantic. How? Why?

Sharp pens greeted the 1892 St Petersburg première — ‘it’s a pity that so much fine music is expended on nonsense’ — and within two decades it was little more than a box of delights to be raided by directors and choreographers, blithely borrowing anything they fancied from Lev Ivanov’s choreography or Tchaikovsky’s ravishing, bittersweet score, regardless of context or key signatures. Anna Pavlova had pick-and-mix Tchaikovsky for the one-act Snowflakes ballet she took to New York in 1915. Diaghilev had Vaslav Nijinsky dance a solo to the Sugar Plum Fairy variation in 1911 and later used the same tinkling celeste sequence for the Lilac Fairy in his 1921 Sleeping Princess.

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