Yesterday was the "official" beginning of the Christmas season for me (although I have truly been in full tilt Christmas mode for more than three weeks now....). Rune and I went to see The Nutcracker at the Edmonds Center for the Arts, as performed by the Olympic Ballet Theatre. The principal dancers were So Young An and Jason Jordan and they were am
azing! I would love to see Mr. Jordan dance on a larger stage as he strikes me as someone who can really leap and move. The young woman who danced the Arabian Coffee section, Natascha Greenwalt-Murphy was wonderful----agile, jointless and exotic. She was my favorite dancer of the evening. As always, all the dancers did a great job, especially the kids. The young dancers who did the Russian Trepak were especially great. It was a better performance than last year and both Rune and I had a grand time. I can hardly wait for next year now. It wouldn't be Christmas without The Nutcracker. I'm lucky to have a friend like Rune who feels the same way and is happy to accompany me each year. It's our annual Christmas outing together.At the very beginning of the ballet as Herr Drosselmeryer is heading to the party with an armload of gifts (in front of the drawn curtain), he comes across a whole passel of children heading the other way. There is bumping and gift dropping and as the goo
d Herr starts to leave he realizes he's missing one wrapped gift. Calling the children back, he scrutinizes each and every one until he comes across the little culprit who had his missing package. He claims the gift and swats the boy (gently) and sends them on their way while he continues on his. The stage area in front of the drawn curtain is once more empty and the overture ends. In that magic momentary lull before the curtain is drawn back to reveal the Burgermeister drawing room, a sad little female voice pipes up from the darkened theater, "Oh. Won't there be any more?" Everyone howled.
d Herr starts to leave he realizes he's missing one wrapped gift. Calling the children back, he scrutinizes each and every one until he comes across the little culprit who had his missing package. He claims the gift and swats the boy (gently) and sends them on their way while he continues on his. The stage area in front of the drawn curtain is once more empty and the overture ends. In that magic momentary lull before the curtain is drawn back to reveal the Burgermeister drawing room, a sad little female voice pipes up from the darkened theater, "Oh. Won't there be any more?" Everyone howled. Three days until I leave for Annie's. I can't wait!
The hand-made ornament tree in my bedroom.
1 comment:
Glad you're excited. Your granddaughter has come down with a massive head cold in anticipation of your visit. Good times. Wear your snot-proof Christmas garb. (I'm REALLY not kidding.)
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