Veterans Memorial Auditorium, Providence, RI.
December 27, 2025.
Year after year, even if the thought of it feels more repetitive than magical, I always find enchantment within The Nutcracker. Ballet RI, like they have each time I’ve enjoyed their program, brought the Nutcracker magic to life with calibrated, intentional artistry – in both performance and design. I felt immersed because the program brought me into the world of its story, and I didn’t have to suspend any disbelief. I even came away with deeper thoughts about where the magic really comes from (in my book, with such catalyzing of thought a sign of accomplished artmaking).
The opening scene, which leads into the party at the Silberhaus’ family’s home, was similar to how it’s been in past years. Yet there were little humorous interactions, such as snowball throwing and attempts at balancing a tall stack of wrapped presents, that were fresh for this year. Just as throughout the whole program, this approach brought new life to the comforting familiar: a satisfying balance, perhaps the kind that brings people back into the audience for this program again and again. The subtleties can truly be what hold such effective balance.
In the party itself, Clara (Emma Gaines) immediately demonstrated her impressive movement quality: with a certain grandeur and gravitas, painting her as a young woman with elegance and poise beyond her tender years. She seemed to have potential to get involved in extraordinary events (and indeed she would). Herr Drosselmeyer (Stephen Gunter) brought a similarly commanding presence, but also warmth that’s not always fully present with this character.
It was a blend that worked well in a program that placed him as a ringleader and instigator of all the magic. He performed sleight-of-hand tricks for the children, like we might see in any magic show – which added further realism to a scene that felt like any old party, just coming to us through scenes in movement rather than in words. The multi-tonal, multi-themed score lends itself to these many little episodes of minor conflict, joy, wonder, connection, et cetera.
Fancy Doll (Katherine Vigly) offered lovely ballon, danced with an appropriately militaristic rigor. Ballerina Doll (Hayley Donohue) moved with gorgeous lift and lines, peppered with sweetness and quirkiness just right for a doll brought to life. Dancing Panda Bears (Alexis Dawson and Gina DeRoma), unique to this company’s program (at least as far as I’m aware), were one of the program’s moments that could be utterly delightful for parents and children alike.
Drosselmeyer and Clara soon faced the mice and rats. Design choices such as an owl clock, mannequin horses, and a stretcher for a fallen rat further pulled me in this world – colorful without being outlandish to the point that I had to suspend my own disbelief. That successful happy medium and immersion in a unique setting continued throughout the program.
The Battle Scene also infused humor and a dash of silliness, a quality keeping it fun (rather than potentially frightening) for the youngest audience members. The Mouse King (Clay Murray), presenting equal parts physical comedy and beautifully expansive movement, led the way in creating such a quality.
The mice and rats were defeated, and Drosselmeyer again catalyzed the continuation of magic – for example, propelling the Christmas tree to sparkle and Clara’s Nutcracker to become the Nutcracker King (Styles Dykes). We met the Snow Queen (Heather Nichols) and King (Garret McNally) as well as all the beings of their winter wonderland (coming with yet another stunning painted backdrop, set design by Peter Horne).
Nichols danced Snow Queen with a beautiful release grounded in the most rock-solid strength and technical virtuosity – supported also by a partner in McNally just as rock-solid. The comings and goings the Snowflakes brought the feeling of snow sometimes coming down straight, sometimes getting blown to flurries. It was another touch that enhanced my captivation through realism, as well as just enough scale and grandeur to wow me and keep me believing.
Sweet little angels, led by an older student as a Lead Angel (Karli Wilkinson), welcomed us into the second act’s enchanted world – an inviting welcome indeed. Clara and the Nutcracker Prince arrived, and Drosselmeyer was also there as the magic proceeded – for my money, running it all, really. As is common in this story, the Sugarplum Fairy (Alexandria Troianos) greeted them, as well as representatives of the regions of this magical world. And so their dances began.
Chocolate, danced by Eliza Jones and Audrey Lukacz, embodied the confident, fierce feminine within Latin culture: from snapping castanets to strong port de bras to precise footwork. Coffee, danced by Clay Murray and Emma Guertin, brought nuances to each movement that created enticing mystery. It was a bit of a tonal shift from the scenes surrounding it, as it typically is in this narrative, yet this program calibrated everything carefully enough that nothing felt jarring.
With a vibrant dancing dragon, colorful fans, and a silky streamer, offered a cultural representation that felt honest, accurate, and respectful (and all that really does make better art!). Ashley danced the lead with ebullient ballon and a mile-wide smile. Marzipan presented Rococo sweetness and daintiness. To begin, Anjali Hern danced as a soloist: a woman free to enjoy moving her body, all on her own, with kinetic attunement and grace (I loved to see it!). Then two “lambs” (Emma LeBlanc and Cynthia Van Pelt) joined her, more anthropomorphic delight for the whole family.
Leah Jenkins as Mother Ginger (with an enormous skirt) came with an authentic feel of lively cultura italiana. The Nutcracker Prince and Clara danced with the joyful Polichinelles while Mother Ginger had her own comical reactions. The Nutcracker Prince danced with the two Trepak dancers, Darius Mealy and Shawn Pearson. The variation brought much high-flying athleticism, but also more refined footwork and sense of teamwork amongst the dancers than this variation often brings. It felt like quite a satisfying and successful blend. Here, Dykes offered the sensitive strength, wrapped in a warm presence, that he brought to the whole role.
Drosselmeyer (surprise surprise) ushered in the Flowers to dance their Waltz. Wearing layered skirts like graceful flower blossoms (costume design by Judanna Lynn, Maxine Wheelock, and Christine Wheelock), their movements and patterns across the stage created an effect akin to tulips swaying in a light breeze. Katherine Vigly as Dewdrop moved with an understatement that only enhanced her technical virtuosity – softness and easy presence perfectly befitting the loveliest flower in the garden.
The Sugarplum Pas then took the stage, with Troianos fully taking it all with her memorable artistry. As always, her nuances – the mastery in each choice she makes – created a captivating mystique in movement. Brian Gomez as the Cavalier moved with both precision and expansion: exciting to experience.
The action climaxed with the residents of this land again assembling, this time to grant Clara and the Nutcracker Prince a farewell. Drosselmeyer pulled magical strings yet again to have Clara back on her own couch with the Nutcracker doll nestled in her embrace. The curtain dropped as Clara held it aloft, adoring it, with snow falling down in their spotlight: an enchanted ending for an enchanted show.
Again, Drosselmeyer seemed to propel much of that enchantment. Yet I got to thinking more deeply about its origin. Was the magic only possible because Clara’s mind allowed it, was really even its source? We in the audience were there to experience it, and bring it to life in our own minds, hearts, and souls – so did it really lie in us? Who really makes the magic…would it be, in actuality, all of the above?
Whatever the answer there, the magic is real if we allow it. That’s the enchantment of the holiday season. Thank you to Ballet RI for bringing it to us, and making me think further in these ways. Happiest of holidays far and wide – now and always!
By Kathryn Boland of Dance Informa.
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