I think I was looking forward to home time more than most today, because after work I had a "mummy and me" date at Lincoln Center (for the Performing Arts), to see the NYC Ballet's production of George Balanchine's "The Nutcracker". I have been to the ballet a couple of times before, with mixed results. But I was pretty confident that tonight's performance was going to be a winner. And it totally was.
Firstly the night rocked because our seats were awesome. We were up high (third tier) in the David H. Koch Theater, but I had deliberately selected those seats because I knew the stage was full of exciting action and costumes, and I wanted me and Mum to be able to fully appreciate the spectacle. So from our lofty heights we had front row seats - a truly uninterrupted view of the whole stage. And no heads of fidgety kids to peek over!
Also from our seats up high we had a perfect view of the very talented orchestra. When the lights went down and Tchaikovsky's score started up, I loved it. Little by little the stage came to life - adorable children, stunning costumes, and a story that was so simple to follow that you could just lose yourself and soak up all the talent and glamour. At least that's what I did anyway.
And the sparkles on the costumes! Granted they weren't as flashy as The Rockettes sequinned duds, but what girl doesn't love a gorgeous pink tutu? And one dress weighed 80 pounds (according to the program) - the athleticism of all the dances was obvious. But at the same time, the elegant snowflakes that danced across the stage were so beautiful and graceful. I guess being so far away, I couldn't see if the performers were puffing or were exhausted. From where we were sitting, they kept up the illusion that they could dance forever.
After the show finished, we wandered out into the mild evening air and just walked for a bit, in the direction of our subway home. Again, we got back just before the rain started to fall (we seem to be making quite a habit of that), but even now - hours later - I can still see the sugarplums dancing in my head.
Dare I suggest this might become one of my NYC Christmas traditions?