Homeland Dancing, Neglected

Daniel and I were watching The Nutcracker last night.   He agreed to watch this one, because it looked like it would be a bit more than just all that dancing-in-tights that we associate with ballet.  In fact, this was a Maurice Sendak version, where the sets and props all looked like "Where the Wild Things Are," and, in fact, the Nutcracker himself was short, squat, and rather on the creepy side.

But in spite of Sendak's visual twists, the music was still Tchaikovsky, and the ballet followed the standard Nutcracker boilerplate aside from a bit of extra narration and a touch of visual surrealism.  This meant, of course, the sugar-plum faeries, the flowers, and of course, all the "ethnics" - the Spanish dance, the Russian dance, the Arab dance, the Chinese dance.  But Daniel noticed something that not many critics seem to pick up, asking, "Where's the American dancing?"

The Nutcracker's choreographers, it turns out, gave the old "cold shoulder" to the U.S.-of-A.  No Uncle Sam for this delirious little girl's dream-life.  No can-can.  No break dancing.  No foxtrot.  No electric slide.

Some ballets are just more provincial than others, and we have to enjoy them for what they are, with all their cultural limitations.

(December 29, 2012)