‘Nutcracker’ tradition works magic again> Witnessing 9-year-old’s awe during holiday ballet fills mom with Christmas spirit

Christmas came early for me this year.

It happened at 7:30 p.m. Saturday, Dec. 4, as the curtain parted and graceful dancers pirouetted onto the stage at the Maine Center for the Arts on the University of Maine campus in Orono.

The spirit of the season washed over me as I watched my 9-year-old daughter laugh, clap and sit on the edge of her seat as she enjoyed a familiar spectacle, a performance of Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s ballet “The Nutcracker.”

The event, put on by the Bangor Symphony Orchestra and members of the Robinson Ballet, has become an annual tradition locally for many families anxious to catch the holiday spirit. The three performances last weekend were sold out.

This year marked the 15th anniversary of the ballet performance locally.

Most who came to the evening show Saturday were dressed to the nines, mothers and daughters gliding around in velveteen gowns, sons and fathers tugging at ties on their suits.

The Saturday night performance marked the third time my daughter, Eliza, and I have watched the ballet together. The magical story of Clara and her adventures with the nutcracker figurine that comes to life have enchanted us since Eliza was 6. Every year we have marveled at the flash and color of the ballet and vowed to get tickets early to see it again the following year.

This year’s “Nutcracker” lived up to our expectations. Stevie Dunham as Clara seemed especially adept at dancing on her toes and executing innumerable arabesques, some of them while being lifted high into the air.

Guest soloists Amy Rose and Daniel Baudendistel from New York City added an extra dash of drama and graceful flair to the production. The Bangor Symphony Orchestra, under the watchful direction of conductor Christopher Zimmerman, ably performed a musical score that ran the gamut from soft, dreamy refrains to more dramatic pieces that culminated with a pounding timpani and clashing cymbals.

Riveting entertainment aside, there was something especially poignant about Eliza’s and my “Nutcracker” date this year.

As the grandfather clock struck midnight near the end of the opening scene, I sensed the pending coming of age of my daughter who sat primly beside me, her hands clutching a small bouquet of carnations that complemented her blue eyes and pink-and-white complexion.

This year Eliza insisted on applying lipstick, and a little eye shadow, before she went out for the evening.

She picked out the white, lacy dress, the eggshell tights and the black, shiny pumps she wore for the evening. As the time drew near to leave for the show, she admonished me to “quit acting like a mother so we can enjoy ourselves” after I fussed about the 15-mile distance we had to cover to make the show.

More than Eliza’s growing sophistiction — she was able to point out many differences between this year’s and last year’s production — I noticed a difference in the way she seemed to perceive herself in an adult world.

Dressed to the nines, Miss Eliza, as I took to calling her earlier that day, briskly walked to our seats in the orchestra section at the MCA.

Rolling her eyes at the antics of a few giggling preadolescenet girls sitting nearby, she leaned over, whispering, “Looks like it’s going to be a long night.”

Her prediction failed to materialize. The two-hour ballet unfolded before the audience, casting its colorful spell over all.

A sudden giggle burst from my dignified daughter as a gaggle of costumed dancers made their way across stage at the start of Act 2. The Spanish flamenco dancers made her sit on the edge of her chair. The duo dressed as Arabian dancers were rewarded with an “Oooh” as the woman was hoisted into midair.

Eliza’s world has changed greatly this fall. Moving into a new house and starting the fourth grade in a new school have produced an array of adjustments that have matured her, but, at the same time, have sapped some of the spontaneity from her childhood.

I guess Christmas came to me when I saw Eliza’s reaction to the sugarplum fairy. The pas de deux featuring Rose and Baudendistel drew a wide, beautific smile at its conclusion.

As Eliza beamed and burst into applause, I watched her and saw my little girl again, smiling ear to ear for the sake of it, enjoying life in the moment.

I quickly was jostled out of my reverie by a tap on my arm.

“Mom, clap more. They’ll think you don’t like it,” Eliza instructed at the close of the ballet.

Despite my little girl’s concern, I enjoyed this year’s “Nutcracker” to the fullest. Merry Christmas to you all.