A Nutcracker-less Year

Maria Tallchief danced the Sugar Plum Fairy. Andre Eglevsky was the Cavalier. It was my first Nutcracker. I was five. I had no idea who they were or how incredibly lucky I was to be in that audience. All I knew was: WOW. All I knew was: I WANT TO DO THAT.

My mother, who took me to that performance and to Nutcrackers for the next thirteen seasons, understood. I started ballet lessons with Professor Troyanoff (who may or may not have been an actual professor) when I was six. When I was almost eleven, I began taking lessons from Andre Eglevsky, (yes, him) who had just retired from Balanchine’s New York City Ballet. At twelve, I was–as the saying goes–drummed out of the corps. Eglevsky told my mother to stop wasting her money. I had the wrong body. I would never be a dancer.

What those words did to me, and what I did to recapture the dream I had of dancing in The Nutcracker became my book, Raising the Barre. I had to write it.

This is my first Nutcracker-less year (either in the audience or on stage) since I was five. I miss it terribly. In this year of missing so much, this is near the top of the list.

And so I am listening to Moscow Symphony Orchestra’s production of Tchaikovsky’s sumptuous score as I post these images of my time with the talented, hard-working, generous and oh-so-kind Eugene Ballet Company dancers who inspired me, taught me, and let me into their lives.

Stretching out in company class

The ever-patient Mark Tucker (in background) and his partner in dance and life, Danielle Tolmie, taught me the Grandfather Dance (my 15-seconds of center-stage glory).

The glamor (not) and excitement of the backstage dressing room. (That’s Victoria Harvey, who took me stage make-up shopping. Suzanne Haag taught me the magic.)

Warming up before a Hult Center performance

My friend, wing-woman, Ballet Book Club and leotard-shopping partner, Kim Sheehan.