The holidays have long been cursed with the drudge of traditions that don’t always escalate the spirits. Let’s face it. “The Nutcracker” is several hours of yawn with an intermission fit for coffee zapped with a double shot in hopes of not interrupting the second act with snores from the mezzanine. A second act? It’s not over yet? Blech! That isn’t to say that occasionally a tear of nostalgia doesn’t spring to the mind’s eye every now and then.
Ballet is an exceptional art form of beauty and poise. Nonetheless, by the caffeine infused second act, my eyes have fuzzed over and I’m recreating the storyline with more drama and less clothes. A sprinkle of sugar and spice goes a long way to kindle enthusiasm. What if “The Nutcracker” was performed in the tradition of burlesque? Now that’s a show I could stay awake for. Continue reading