My First "Nutcracker," My First Ballet

How any little girl goes to the ballet and doesn't leave wanting to be a famous ballerina herself, I'll never know. I left my first ballet Saturday with dreams of pirouettes and plies, and I'm 30.

And starting out with "The Nutcracker," as I did, would make it even tougher on a girl. After all, a good quarter of the dancers on stage are young enough that they may still believe in Santa. It all looks so accessible. That is, until you see the grace and discipline behind the art, and then see the world-class adult ballerinas on stage with them, with the same qualities amplified.

New York City Ballet's performance of "The Nutcracker" was amazing. Tchaikovsky's score was magical, Balanchine's choreography beautiful and the costumes sublime. I left Lincoln Center convinced that I've simply wasted the last four years in New York -- not to mention the previous eight years in Columbus -- never having been to the ballet.

"The Nutcracker" was a perfect ballet for a newbie like me, there more for the pixie dust than the technique (although plenty of the latter was on display as well). Paul had seen the show as a boy and remembered bits and pieces, but we were both surprised by how much of the music we recognized --more from mayonnaise commercials and the like in my case than anything more than a passing familiarity with classical music.

Needless to say, I enjoyed myself thoroughly. I'm not ready to get season tickets, but I am ready to return to the ballet, and soon.

My Birthday (Observed) at South Pacific

I turned 29 last Thursday, but my iPhone turned one.

They grow up so fast.

The phone was my birthday present from Paul last year, and we both knew he was going to have a tough time beating that. But I have to say he did pretty well this year. He got us tickets to see South Pacific on Broadway on Saturday.

When we moved to New York, I swore I was going to see a Broadway show every month -- or at least somewhat regularly. Regrettably, I've fallen into a lull. Why see it this Saturday when I can just go next weekend? As it turns out, South Pacific was only the fifth show we've seen in the last three years.

As the orchestra began playing the score, however, I wondered what had taken me so long to get there. It really was a beautiful production, with several of the original cast members (including Paulo Szot, who won a Tony for his role as Emile de Becque).

After the three-hour show, we lingered outside the theater. The night was hot but ever so much cooler than when the sun was out, and dozens of people were sitting on an elevated lawn outside the theater, or gathered around the fountain outside Lincoln Center.

The lawn, with Juilliard in the background, before the show

The fountain, after the show

I wanted to move to New York for experiences like these, and I left the theater realizing I must do a better job making sure they happen. Maybe that was the best birthday present after all.

Me

A Night at the Opera

I'd been reading in the newspaper for months that the Metropolitan Opera has weekly drawings for $25 tickets. About a month ago I decided to give it a shot.

You enter the drawing online each Monday, winners are notified Tuesday, and they have until Wednesday to purchase up to two tickets.

No luck. The next week, no luck. It was my third or fourth try when I finally found success: two Saturday night tickets to the Italian comedic opera L'Elisir d'Amore (Elixir of Love) at Lincoln Center for $50 flat.


My experiences with opera have been mixed. I saw the Marriage of Figaro performed in Toledo with my high school German classmates 10 or 11 years ago. I remember enjoying it. My second and only other opera was not as successful. We had just taken an overnight train from Munich to Berlin, Germany, and snagged some cheap seats to The Magic Flute for that night. I was exhausted, we could only see a corner of the stage, and despite my best efforts, I fell asleep.

Last night was much better. We had orchestra seats, about four rows from the back on the main floor. I saw a couple of people with binoculars, but it wasn't a bad view at all. The scenery was just as lovely as the singing, but since I'm no connoisseur I expected nothing less.

My main reason for wanting to attend the opera was simply for the experience. It didn't disappoint.

I had an idea that the women would be dressed to the nines. There were just as many formal dresses as there were jeans. That is, a few but not many. I wore black pants and a nice shirt and felt completely comfortable. Paul wore a suit, as did most men in attendance.

The opera itself was quite entertaining, as was the subtitle system. Each person had access to subtitles on the back of the seat in front of them, and they could be set to English, Spanish or German.

The juxtaposition of the Italian poetry on stage and the blunt English on screen was a little jarring at first, but I soon became accustomed to it. During the second act I even turned on the German titles to see how much I could follow. I knew more than I suspected, and I compensated by peaking at the English subtitles in the row in front of me when needed.

Overall, it was an enjoyable experience that I would gladly repeat. That's one thing checked off of my New York to-do list. Now only about 999 more things to go ...

Winter's Eve

It's comforting to know that I can have a lovely evening in Manhattan -- complete with food -- for $3.

Monday after work I went to Winter's Eve at Lincoln Square. I wasn't there in time to see Lincoln Center's tree lighting at 5:30, although I got some good pics a few hours later. In any case, I was mostly there to see the crowds and eat the food.

About two dozen restaurants had tents set up in three clusters along Broadway, and all had samples for no more than five bucks, and a few things were free. I tried pumpkin bisque, sweet corn and yam bisque, peppermint bark, a mini apple cobbler, three different kinds of hot chocolate and (my favorite) chocolate mousse that was creamy and rich like good fudge frosting. The latter was the best $2 I'd ever spent.

It rained a little, but that was fine. Paul was feeling a little sick, but I really didn't mind going alone. And I almost got hit by a cab when I was crossing the street to take the subway home, so maybe I'm one step closer to becoming a real New Yorker?