A Crackin' Good Time!

I was happily making myself scarce from work on Friday afternoon when a colleague appeared at my elbow and asked me if I had anything planned for the weekend – as colleagues do.

“Well actually, I do” I trilled. “I’m going to the ballet to see ‘The Nutcracker’!”

“Oh really? That’s wonderful!” he cried. I was a bit taken aback by his enthusiasm, but pleased.

“Yes, and we were really lucky to get tickets as it was all last minute, and they were supposed to have sold out,” I continued. “I’ve never seen the Nutcracker before, so I’m quite excited.”

“So, how long are you going for?” he asked, eagerly.

“Err, what do you mean?”

“How long will you be in Bali?”

So that explained the enthusiastic interest – though you have to wonder why he never asked me about this mystical nutcracker, that had enticed me all the way to Bali to see it. Some kind of new religion, perhaps?

So anyway, I realize the ballet isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But on with the review:

The company was the Australian Ballet, dancing at the Opera Theatre, in the Opera House. How they managed on the shoe box-sized stage I can’t imagine, though the fact that there were never more than about ten people on stage at any one time must have helped! There were some great touches; I almost wished I was a child again. Remote controlled mice running across the stage made everyone laugh, and when the tree grew and dancing mice jumped out of the fireplace…I came over all six years old! The scenery really did make the stage look lovely.

The principals danced well, though I’m not so sure whether I liked the corps de ballet. They were technically competent, but seemed to lack artistry – for example, those beautiful head lines that make a dancer so beautiful you want to be her, not just think “well, that was clever.” There’s a good reason I go to ballet three times a week at risk of my right hip falling off. Ballet should look so good you just have to do it yourself, and I don’t think those girls had that. But maybe I’m being ignorant and too harsh. After all, there’s a reason some dancers stay in the corps and others are promoted to soloist – that extra something is a dancer’s ticket out of the corps de ballet.

When the interval came round I decided to go to the toilet – bad idea. I could see a crowd rushing to the ladies’ and I couldn’t rush to get near the front of the queue because this annoying little girlie was skipping slowly down the steps in front of me, holding on to her mother’s hand. Damn little girls! I was tempted to plough her down, but you’ll be pleased to hear I didn’t. So I ended up queuing for more than half the interval, just for the sake of a quick toilet visit.

On the way out of the toilets I saw a woman who looked like Nicole Kidman, still in the queue. I didn’t think twice about it as a moment later, I found the Man and he was waiting for me with a glass of gorgeous red wine, bless him! But then, just as I was trying to down my red wine as fast as possible without passing out from alcohol shock (the warning bell had sounded), the Nicole Kidman look-alike reappeared from the ladies’, and it actually was her. A woman asked her for her autograph as she was climbing back up the steps to re-enter the theatre.

I couldn’t tell you very much about her because I studiously looked away, as I thought it was pretty mean to stare. And frankly, a bit unfair to ask her for her autograph when she was trying to enjoy an afternoon out with her son. There was hardly anyone around at that point as most people had gone back in for the second act, so it would have been pretty obvious if I had stared. (The Man did, as he is unworried by the finer niceties of etiquette. And later he started babbling about how he really quite likes Nicole Kidman, even though I know she annoys him!) I did however nearly bump into her in my haste to put my empty glass down and get back to my seat!

The other celebrity sighting was David MacAllister, if he counts. He’s the Artistic Director of the Australian Ballet, and he was in the audience. “These are good seats, you know” The Man said, smugly. “What do you expect? We’re mixing with the best here.” I suggested that Daniel Craig might be our next sighting. In his swimmers. Mmmmm. It would almost be worth turning 30 for that. (Did I mention, the ballet trip was the last of my birthday celebration events).

So, Advent is upon us, and my trip to England for Christmas suddenly draws near. This month is going to be hectic.