Nutcracking mornings

It hardly seems possible that it's already Nutcracker season but although my summer flowers are still holding on and Mr. Bones has only just appeared on the front door, my day is starting with a little Christmas-y Tschaikovsky.  This year's morning of Nutcracker preparation has a new twist.  Instead of just watching a retrospective of past year's DVDs or listening to the music on the iPod speakers, Mary Rollins watches a couple of videos I made with my iPhone during a rehearsal for last year's Corbin show.  Conveniently she's reprising her role as Marzipan and will be the demi-solist for Flower and may be the First Flake in Snow.  For knowledgeable Nutcracker watchers, the First Flake (my name not theirs and not to be confused with the lovely Snow Queen) is when the one lone dancer from the Corps spins out on the stage at the very beginning of the dance.  How did Mary Rollins achieve First Flake?  Because thanks to her obsessive Nutcracker watching, when it was asked during rehearsal if anyone knew that part, there she was ready to go.  She taught the rest of the choreography to all the new flakes, too. 

Mary Rollins has decided post-Governor's School for the Arts that as much as she loves ballet, she doesn't want to major or minor in ballet in college. To quote, "I can't imagine wearing pointe shoes eight hours a day for my job."  Apparently, that's the real telling point for a future ballet career.  She claims that it doesn't really matter whether or not the college she chooses has ballet or even a dance program (and no, having a "dance team" is not the same as having dance) but being a mom and knowing better,  I think she would miss it.  And so, as I research colleges for Mary Rollins (she has officially hired me as her educational consultant), I find myself looking to see if colleges have dance programs (preferably ballet) or at least their town a real ballet company that would offer adult classes and put on Nutcracker. Why?  Because even though she can't imagine being on pointe eight hours a day, she also can't imagine a life without Nutcracker.  She'll do whatever it takes to be in the Nutcracker, even if it means being a party parent.



Last year's rehearsal of Snow.  I love the little snow flurries off to the left watching
the Snow Corps.  A friend of ours who is a retired ballerina told us that hearing the Nutcracker
music brings on a minor panic attack.  I'm afraid that in the future MR and her friends will
burst into bittersweet tears of longing.