Opening Night
Last night was the first scheduled performance for The Nutcracker. Because we have family arriving in town late, we chose to attend the Sunday matinee rather than opening night. I hated missing their first night, but figured that by Sunday, they would be flawless in their roles (if they weren’t too tired by then). Instead, I volunteered my husband backstage and myself for lobby sales, a fundraising effort for the company.
When I arrived, I met some very nice ladies who were old hands at being “Nutcracker Moms”. They gave me a quick rundown of how the booth worked along with a canvas apron to hold money. As I tied my apron on, I wondered if they were as excited for their children as I was mine. They didn’t look it, but I am willing to bet that they were just better at hiding it.
The attendee’s started to arrive and there was a lot of traffic around the booth. However, when the announcer stated that it was five minutes until start, the crowd thinned quickly. I gathered up enough nerve to ask the volunteer coordinator if it was possible to peek in during the performance (I was supposed to be there to work, you know). I had already told her that my three would be on stage. She had assisted with the dress rehearsals and knew exactly who they were.
She grinned, and that was the first time I really saw her excited. “You are going to like where we peek” she said.
We spent some time straightening up the booth, then at one minute, she jerked her head in my direction and said “Come on”.
I followed her up a hallway and found myself in a small room with large windows looking out over the theater seats. In the corner sat (I assume) the stage manager, wearing a head set and focusing on an electrical board and a laptop. We sat down as some of ballet administrators came in, introducing themselves in low voices. Then I listened as the manager did his last minute checks, and started the production.
It was fascinating; this one man was coordinating everything that was happening in front of and behind the curtain, everyone was listening for his voice. You could tell he was concentrating, looking intently at the stage or his boards and responding to the music and any comments over his headset. I was riveted by him until the music changed and I recognized the sound of party scene-this was my son’s role!
My attention jerked to the stage and I watched for my little guy. After a minute or two, he emerged from a corner. He was wearing little brown knickers and a matching short jacket-and looked about four years old. He was exuberant, running and jumping across the stage as if it were the most fun in the world. One of the older dancers swept him up onto his shoulders and my little fellow just laughed with joy.
The stage darkened and I knew what was next. I leaned forward to better see into the darkness, barely hearing the manager muttering directions on my left. Then I saw them-a row of little grey mice wiggling their whiskers. They wore headpieces with ears and had face makeup but I recognized the ballet bun of a red head-my little girl! They gathered around the sleeping Clara, and then scampered to line up. One by one, they did a forward roll; mousie number six had a very recognizable rollover. Then they jumped in a row and dashed off stage.
At the end of the act, we hurried back down to our table so that it would be ready for intermission sales. The next fifteen minutes took forever to pass; I was ready to see my third child.
At the start of Act Two, angels mark the entrance to The Land of Sweets. Dressed in white and gold, with long trains of silk held high in the air, they are truly beautiful. I settled into my seat, not daring to blink-the stage was very full and I didn’t want to miss her. At last there appeared a row of cherubs, all bare feet and chubby legs. With her long red hair waving behind like a banner, there was my third child! She kept perfect time skipping back and forth, not showing the least bit of stage fright. She looked just like a merry little sprite with the wreath of flowers on her head. I saw her again at the end at the back of the stage holding a very serious first position with other cherubs, as the principal dancers took a bow.
As I saw each child, I became teary eyed with pride. I am nothing if not sentimental. This has been a great experience, and one I know they will remember for the rest of their lives. I am willing to bet that we will be back next year.
When I arrived, I met some very nice ladies who were old hands at being “Nutcracker Moms”. They gave me a quick rundown of how the booth worked along with a canvas apron to hold money. As I tied my apron on, I wondered if they were as excited for their children as I was mine. They didn’t look it, but I am willing to bet that they were just better at hiding it.
The attendee’s started to arrive and there was a lot of traffic around the booth. However, when the announcer stated that it was five minutes until start, the crowd thinned quickly. I gathered up enough nerve to ask the volunteer coordinator if it was possible to peek in during the performance (I was supposed to be there to work, you know). I had already told her that my three would be on stage. She had assisted with the dress rehearsals and knew exactly who they were.
She grinned, and that was the first time I really saw her excited. “You are going to like where we peek” she said.
We spent some time straightening up the booth, then at one minute, she jerked her head in my direction and said “Come on”.
I followed her up a hallway and found myself in a small room with large windows looking out over the theater seats. In the corner sat (I assume) the stage manager, wearing a head set and focusing on an electrical board and a laptop. We sat down as some of ballet administrators came in, introducing themselves in low voices. Then I listened as the manager did his last minute checks, and started the production.
It was fascinating; this one man was coordinating everything that was happening in front of and behind the curtain, everyone was listening for his voice. You could tell he was concentrating, looking intently at the stage or his boards and responding to the music and any comments over his headset. I was riveted by him until the music changed and I recognized the sound of party scene-this was my son’s role!
My attention jerked to the stage and I watched for my little guy. After a minute or two, he emerged from a corner. He was wearing little brown knickers and a matching short jacket-and looked about four years old. He was exuberant, running and jumping across the stage as if it were the most fun in the world. One of the older dancers swept him up onto his shoulders and my little fellow just laughed with joy.
The stage darkened and I knew what was next. I leaned forward to better see into the darkness, barely hearing the manager muttering directions on my left. Then I saw them-a row of little grey mice wiggling their whiskers. They wore headpieces with ears and had face makeup but I recognized the ballet bun of a red head-my little girl! They gathered around the sleeping Clara, and then scampered to line up. One by one, they did a forward roll; mousie number six had a very recognizable rollover. Then they jumped in a row and dashed off stage.
At the end of the act, we hurried back down to our table so that it would be ready for intermission sales. The next fifteen minutes took forever to pass; I was ready to see my third child.
At the start of Act Two, angels mark the entrance to The Land of Sweets. Dressed in white and gold, with long trains of silk held high in the air, they are truly beautiful. I settled into my seat, not daring to blink-the stage was very full and I didn’t want to miss her. At last there appeared a row of cherubs, all bare feet and chubby legs. With her long red hair waving behind like a banner, there was my third child! She kept perfect time skipping back and forth, not showing the least bit of stage fright. She looked just like a merry little sprite with the wreath of flowers on her head. I saw her again at the end at the back of the stage holding a very serious first position with other cherubs, as the principal dancers took a bow.
As I saw each child, I became teary eyed with pride. I am nothing if not sentimental. This has been a great experience, and one I know they will remember for the rest of their lives. I am willing to bet that we will be back next year.
posted by CityWords at 12/10/2005 07:20:00 PM
1 Comments:
Truly the most riveting and well-written commentary on the Nutcracker I've ever read. It gives me chills. Knowing the boy in knickers, one of the mice, and one of the cherubs truly makes me proud!!
Merry Christmas!
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