DANCE REVIEW : Two Casts in ‘Nutcracker’

Looking chronically under-rehearsed, two sets of principals danced the new American Ballet Theatre “Nutcracker” for the first time in Saturday performances at the Performing Arts Center.

Some of the inevitable mistakes proved more diverting than others. In the former category, the matinee Nutcracker lost his oversized head prematurely during his battle with the Mouse King. The evening Clara tugged insistently at her bouquet during the apotheosis but proved unable to free the “single flower” that the libretto says she must give to her dream-prince.

Of the six men assigned treacherous swooping/sliding/running lifts in various roles, all but one looked clumsy and uncertain if not downright scared. Only Charles Askegard, the evening Sugar Plum cavalier, partnered with reliable smoothness--though his afternoon counterpart, a strangely mannered Jeremy Collins, unleashed turns of such speed and force that he claimed the role on another basis.

Both Sugar Plum Fairies danced with technical surety and a generalized, hostess-style warmth. But where Christina Fagundes (at the matinee) radiated happiness, Veronica Lynn (in the evening) seemed merely glazed.

Guillaume Graffin made a fidgety, none-too-persuasive afternoon Drosselmeyer, with the previously reviewed Victor Barbee assuming the role again at night. In both performances, however, it was Barbee’s disembodied face that appeared in the clock.

Beyond looking uncomfortable with (and winded by) their partnering duties, Gil Boggs and Keith Roberts each made promising tries at the role of the Nutcracker Prince. But a world of difference separated their Claras. Opposite Boggs in the afternoon, Ashley Tuttle appeared on automatic pilot--doing everything faultlessly but also seeming oddly vacant.

In the evening, however, Paloma Herrera proved so adorably, spontaneously childlike that it became a magical event when she suddenly appeared in a tutu and danced with great elegance of bearing.

However, both Sandra Brown (the afternoon Snow Queen) and Julie Kent (the evening Dew Drop) rose above the company norm with accomplished, spirited dancing.