Hana and PNB's The Nutcracker
As the curtain went down for intermission at PNB’s The Nutcracker, Hana plaintively called out, “Mooooore! Moooore! Mommy, more ballet! Where Nutcracker??”After reluctantly leaving her seat, she danced her version of “Waltz of the Snowflakes,”during the break, then sat riveted to the end of the performance. At home, she danced for the next half hour, and it was clear there was music in her head as she moved.
Hana is two. For the last year, “Going theatah” has been a special thing that she and I do; it all started when, for her first birthday, I asked close artist collaborators to conceive of an artistically rigorous performance for her age group. We developed The More You Look: An experimental baby opera, and months after the performances, she said, “Hana watch baby opera,” and imitated the dance. Later we saw dance at Velocity and shows at Seattle Children’s Theater. Beyond anything else, Hana kept sharing memories of live theater unprompted, so I figured I should amplify her interest (with the bonus of genuinely enjoying the experiences myself.)
When posters started coming out for PNB’s The Nutcracker, Hana would point and say: “Ballet!” which planted a maybe seed in my head -- that maybe she could watch an entire production. Was that crazy for a toddler to do? But we had to prepare, test, and see what was possible to set her up for any kind of success. I had never watched the Nutcracker, so this was new territory for both of us.
I found The Nutcracker online, and counter to what any parenting advice recommends, I wanted to know if she could watch two hours of TV, two solid hours of ballet. We sat together and I pointed out the party, Clara, her uncle, the soldiers, the tree, the mice (oh, the mice), the nutcracker, the nutcracker hurt, Clara sleeping, and then the dancing -- dancing fairies, dancing flowers, dancing princes, and she loved it all.
We kept watching in the evenings together, because familiarity and repetition make toddlers more engaged -- not bored -- particularly when done with stories and art. Over and over I’d ask her where we’d be going soon, and she’d shout, “Nutcracker! Theatah!” She heard Tchaikovsky’s songs on the radio and declare: “Nutcracker!” We talked about the mice, the nutcracker fighting mice, and stuffed animals became stand-in ballet dancers.
For Hana and me, the magic of live theater starts at home when she picks out the dress she wants and sees me wear something other than sweatshirts. We pack goldfish crackers. She asks for fancy shoes. We enter the building. For The Nutcracker, the breathtaking Christmas tree in the lobby stunned us both into silence for a solid minute. Hana patted the rump of the giant mouse and watched closely as other children ran in and out of winter set displays. We got a nutcracker, and she clutched it the entire night. She took the tickets and gave it to the ticket taker. She walked down the aisle. It’s all part of the performance.
I admit I was a bit worried that other audience members would roll their eyes at a toddler or become frustrated with her comments or questions during the show because it was an evening performance, but we experienced completely the opposite. The warmth, engagement, and wanting to share stories of their children when they were young made me feel like we belonged. And all the beautiful outfits, the spectacle of the audience itself, captivated her.
During the show, people smiled and laughed when Hana asked (so many times) where the mice and Clara were. She said “owl” over and over, because who wouldn’t love a grandfather clock with a giant owl that spreads its wings when the clock strikes each hour? She shouted “Clara” when the mice chased her onto the bed. Hana couldn’t take her eyes off the immense spectacle of Mother Ginger, and when the children leapt out, she clapped. And Hana sighed, “I love this one….” when the ballerinas with all the cascading dresses floated onstage with Waltz of the Flowers.
Of course her attention fluctuated; she wanted my lap, then her chair; she wanted water, then goldfish. But PNB’s The Nutcracker is so sensorially rich that something always pulled her back, whether a change in the stunning set or a new dance. It was such an incredibly positive experience, and I am so glad we tried.
Children have such a wide range of temperaments, and Hana is definitely on the “chill” side. For many children, it might seem their thing to sit for live theater, but I also wonder if we might be underestimating children’s ability to deeply feel and understand art at a very young age. Babies and artworks both explore curiosity, imagination and empathy; with just a little preparation, familiarity and a search for a child’s particular way into an artwork, whether through movement, sound, images, story, or characters, one might be surprised how engaged the very young can be in live performance.
Courtney Sale, artistic director of Seattle Children’s Theater, shared with me the findings* of TYA (Theater for Young Audiences) on the impact of live performance on children:
--Children exposed to live theater are much more able to imagine the lives of others.
--Children exposed to live theater before the age of 8 report that “Theater is for someone like me.” (The study found that trend to decline in children who are not exposed to live theater before the age of 8).
-- Children demonstrate a range of intrinsic impacts after seeing live theater performance, including personal relevance, social bridging, aesthetic growth, and motivation to action.
And an unexpected and moving outcome: Young people discover and develop hope through the performing arts.
So an encouragement to explore if the littlest ones might be ready for the theater, might be ready for The Nutcracker. Because it matters and it can change their lives.
*New Victory/ WolfBrown research