Baryshnikov's New, Bold Nutcracker

By Joan Downs

Mikhail Baryshnikov, one of the great dancers of the age--or any age, for that matter--made his debut as a choreographer last week. By no means has the 28-year-old Soviet artist hung up his dancing shoes. He merely added the duties of choreographer and director to those of performer, starring in all three roles when American Ballet Theater's new production of The Nutcracker opened at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C.

Taking on the beloved Tchaikovsky classic as one's initial choreographic venture is a bold act even for Baryshnikov. The Nutcracker contains several problems. One challenge is to transform a children's story, based loosely on an E.T.A. Hoffmann fairy tale, into palatable adult fare. More complex still, a dramatic link must be fabricated to tie together two acts that are little more than kissing cousins. Act I recounts a Christmas episode in which an accident befalling a nutcracker, the favorite present of Clara Stahlbaum, triggers a dream. Toys come to life. A platoon of mice invades her parlor. The nutcracker turns into a prince who leads his young mistress on an imaginary journey to the Kingdom of Sweets. The second act is usually a froth of dazzling leaps, spins and exuberant folk-flavored dances.

Suppressed Eroticism. With a canny mix of showmanship and a keen instinct for his craft, Baryshnikov has devised solutions that infuse his Nutcracker with logic as well as magic. There is the traditional Christmas tree that grows onstage, a puppet show and a pretty pink and white sleigh to transport Clara and her prince. But there is no Sugar Plum Fairy and the cast is entirely adult. Clara, danced by Marianna Tcherkassky, hovers somewhere between child and woman. Her godfather Drosselmeyer, brilliantly portrayed by Alexander Minz, is both fatherly and aboil with suppressed eroticism. Baryshnikov accents mystery and the paradox of the light and dark faces of the human soul. Stage Designer Boris Aronson's huge painted panels and fantasy murals form a surreal backdrop for the enchanted events of the ballet.

Baryshnikov created his Nutcracker for Tcherkassky, 24, the ballerina whose A.B.T. debut last season in Giselle stirred much excitement. As Clara, Tcherkassky danced with the dewy radiance of a young Fonteyn. Well-matched physically and in spirit, Tcherkassky and Baryshnikov are natural partners. Their approach to dance is one of elegance and simplicity. Both are exceptionally musical and seem at times to dance on one breath.

With the exception of the Snowflakes' waltz, borrowed from Vassily Vainonen's Kirov production, Baryshnikov completely restaged The Nutcracker. His choreography is in a classical mold, swift and precise. There are overhead lifts of every variety, and many florid codas. In spirit, Baryshnikov echoes New York City Ballet's Jerome Robbins. Fluent lyrical lines are buoyed up by the current of the music. Like Robbins, too, he sometimes descends into Broadway kitsch; a clash of cymbals in the orchestra pit invariably signaled a showy lift onstage. The audience adored it.

Kenneth Schermerhorn, on loan from the Milwaukee Symphony, conducted with vigor. Tempi were crisp and the orchestra sounded stronger than it has in many months. There was the usual plague of opening night snafus. A canned Snowflake chorus was off cue and off pitch. The tree grew fitfully; a toy cannon popped minutes too soon.

The corps de ballet was at its most ragged. A traffic jam of Snowflakes spoiled a lovely vision. Nowhere to be found were stretched feet, well-placed hands, turned elbows, meticulous dancing. There is work to be done, images still to be crystallized, but Baryshnikov's Nutcracker some day will be a chief glory of A.B.T. 's repertory.

Joan Downs

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.