On Thanksgiving morning I was doing some work online and decided to pull up a recording of “The Nutcracker Suite” on Youtube. I switched screens so that I could continue whatever my computer task was and still listen to the music without having to see the ballet. I don’t spend a lot of time listening to ‘classical’ music, but I can tell you that the “Nutcracker” contains some of the most glorious music ever penned in all of Christendom, and I say “Christendom” because I don’t think I’ve ever actually used that word in writing or speech, and I thought it might be fun to do so now. It was pretty fun, more or less, but not so fun, I think, that I’ll do it again anytime time soon, unless I’m writing a paper on English history or the rise of Christianity, neither of which is likely to happen.
But I digress. I was talking about “The Nutcracker Suite” and how it has an astonishing amount of mind-blowingly wonderful music. Tchaikovsky didn’t even particularly like the result at first–the taskmaster choreographer had given Peter some hard and fast structural parameters to work within, which the composer found irritating. But he bit the bullet and finished the ballet and the rest is history, or eventually came to be so.
But again, I digress. I was tapping away at the computer listening to this rapturous Russian music and thinking to myself about how I just don’t like ballet. I have sat through this particular ballet several times at least, none too recently, and I know from experience that you don’t need the ballet to appreciate the music, which is why I wasn’t availing myself of the chance to watch it on video. (Apparently it’s about a girl who goes off through an enchanted wonderland of dancing toy soldiers and evil mice. Whatever.)
On Thanksgiving morning, I was simply thankful that I could switch screens and not have to watch it. I’m a simple man. But I grew curious. A particularly magnificent stretch of music came on–one of the grand waltzes, I think. The climax approached. My curiosity grew, and at the Big Moment, I toggled over to the video to see the action.
And this is what I saw. The stage was full of dancers, mostly female, standing still in an artful tableau. Two dancers were the focus, male and female. The male was watching the ballerina, who was kind of hopping about next to her attentive and poised partner. Then he hopped a bit, too, and they hopped in unison. He held her hand and she hopped a little higher.
I’ve seen ballet, so I’m not a completely newbie, and this scenario didn’t surprise me one bit. If I’ve seen it once, I’ve seen it a billion times: ballerina hops, male partner hops with her, holds her hand, she hops higher. Standard ballet trick.
But I have to say that in this instance I was more disappointed with the effect than usual. I was sorely disappointed. Sorely. I mean, I tuned in right at the big kablooie–the climax of this soaring, glittering waltz–my curiosity bade me find out how it was translated to the physical realm of dance. If the metaphor were a rock, this musical moment would be ten million diamonds sparkling in the spotlights, or a chocolate mousse cake with “Kevin, eat me,” written on it. But it wasn’t diamonds or a mousse cake. It was dance. And what I got was–a ballerina hopping up and down next to her partner. They both hop, hold hands and she hops a little higher. Wow.
Talk about a FREAKING FAILURE OF IMAGINATION. The choreographer could do no better than that, and even the great Balanchine in his own iconic, reimagined production could not break free of timid, milquetoast Ballet Dreariness. You see, this is the essential problem with ballet: it’s just plain boring. End of story. I will likely make a few enemies out of this post, but it’s nothing personal. You may like ballet all you want, and you’re welcome to it.
PS–I can now finally write this post as my beloved niece has traded in her toe shoes for jazz and tap shoes. Eva–I always loved watching you in your ballet productions–you were great, and the productions were top-notch–no regrets! (I just happen to find ballet, well…you should know by this point…)
K-blog 