In my previous life as a full-time classical pianist, the days between Thanksgiving and the new year were focused on all things Nutcracker. This is a photo of my personal copy of the “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” celesta part. One doesn’t need to read music to see that the flurry of notes is playful and energetic! And yes, challenging!
During my twenty-three years as principle keyboardist with Oregon Ballet Theater, I was honored to play over 400 performances of The Nutcracker.
“It went like this: The lights on stage shifted, and I listened to the hard toes of pointe shoes scattering off the stage above our heads. After a few seconds, it started with four measures of intro, the second two softer than the first: Bum-pah, Bum-pah, Bum-pah, Bum-pah, bum-pah, bum-pah, bum-pah, bum-pah, bum . . . You know the rest.
I’d keep my hands calmly alert in my lap for the first two measures; then, as if it was part of the choreography, I’d lift them into position over the E Minor chord that begins the Sugar Plum’s solo. It was a habit I started early on that removed all possibility of entering too soon, while simultaneously allowing time to set my hands before safely launching into the famous solo.
There can be a fair amount of goofing around in the pit, and it takes discipline not to get distracted. Plus, playing so many repetitions of a piece encourages complacency–that’s when truly mortifying accidents can happen. But it was easy to get caught up in the music. Tchaikovsky gave us a great score, with soaring themes, creative instrumentation, texturally rich counter-themes, and dazzling solos.” (Excerpt from Life in Miniatures: a view from the piano bench. Carol Rich)
Each performance left me exhilarated, and deeply grateful for the opportunity to play Tchaikovsky’s phenomenal score so many times.
It was a golden time in my life.
When the illusion of performance awakens true emotional wonder, it has fulfilled its purpose.
Carol Rich Writes 