There must be snow lightly dusting the shoulders

There must be snow lightly dusting the shoulders

The Nutcracker


The Australian Ballet
Tuesday 27th October, 2026
Ian Potter State Theatre, Melbourne

Choreography: Peter Wright, Lev Ivanov, Vincent Redmon
Additional choreography courtesy of Birmingham Royal Ballet
Composer: Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
Costume and set design: John F Macfarlane
Lighting design: David Finn
Relighter: Bosco Shaw
Guest Coach (Children): Paul Knobloch

Orchestra Victoria
Conductor: Johnathan Lo


First Snow, my response to The Australian Ballet’s The Nutcracker, drawn up especially for Fjord Review.


There must be snow lightly dusting the shoulders. Mirlitons spritely as they spin and twist a striped, delectable flute. There must be magic and awe, in all its guises, and the reassurance that though the King Rat is nearby, crown askew, all is right in the world. After just shy of three years, The Australian Ballet have returned to the newly renovated and renamed The Ian Potter State Theatre, and Sir Peter Wright’s The Nutcracker is the perfect instrument for the whirling of wonder, beneath a cascading ceiling of 75,000 individual brass spheres[i]. All, indeed, is right with the world, in the plush confines of the red-walled theatre with golden sconces restored. With costume and set design by John F. Macfarlane, the grand setting on stage could be seen to extend to encompass the whole theatre. There, in the sumptuous red velvet. In the promise of the tinkling of the celesta. There must be, there is, a seasonal gem that allows me to surrender myself to the fairy-tale.

 

Artists of The Australian Ballet in Sir Peter Wright’s The Nutcracker, photographed by Kate Longley

 

With expectations high, and status, iconic, Tuesday evening’s unfurling of The Nutcracker at Arts Centre Melbourne, with Soloist Aya Watanabe as Clara Stahlbaum, and Senior Artist Cameron Holmes as her painted Nutcracker doll brought to life as a Prince, did not, could not, disappoint. Together their musicality spins enchantment, and it is wonderful to see Watanabe[ii] and Holmes in such pivotal and defining roles, long having admired their technique and the depth of character they bring to each role. As Watanabe tiptoes down the stairs at midnight, she is the perfect guide to the land of sweet divertissements. She can wallop a King Rat over his head with her shoe, and though I will always carry a soft spot for the rodents in any ballet, thank heavens for that!

In the Stahlbaum family home on Christmas Eve, I am swept up by a state of Edwardian beauty. Originally created for the Birmingham Royal Ballet in 1990, and premiered by The Australian Ballet in 2007, Wright’s telling leans into the something for everyone, both on and off the stage, drawcard. From the bustling fanfare of the Christmas tree being illuminated to Clara’s steps as she is magnetically pulled to the promise of the tree and draws herself in a diagonal line which replicates the angle of the tree, the details are paramount. This is ensemble, and light and joy abound. As a Christmas tree grows before my eyes, the seamless set transformation ensures I land tiny beneath the boughs. Such things are made all the sweeter, of course, when tempered with the dark, hinted at with the arrival of a towering Drosselmeyer, inhabited to the nth degree by corphée Joseph Romancewicz. Gloves are never merely taken off but cast off, like spells, and from the collars and sleeves of the children, Drosselmeyer can, of course, pluck coloured kerchiefs all the better to, by sleight of hand, fuse into a large silk scarf.

The real magic, of The Nutcracker, though belongs to the ice-shard crisp footwork, expressive ports de bras, and formal precision masquerading as frivolity. Dolls come alive, including soloist Drew Hedditch’s nimble Harlequin, for a breath of commedia lightness, and the suspended stillness of corphée Lilla Harvey’s one step-ahead Columbine. Their quick change in direction is matched by corphée Bryce Latham’s tightly sprung, explosive in every direction Jack-in-the-box, and corps de ballet’s Daniel Bryne’s wide-eyed Nutcracker doll who hints at what lies ahead.

 

Sharni Spencer and Maxim Zenin in Sir Peter Wright’s The Nutcracker, photographed by Kate Longley

 

Swords, brandished, the threat of being bitten to pieces, quashed, by an aforementioned shoe, and a King, vanquished, in the Land of Snow, I am invited to pause. A hidden choir, from an unknown location (in the orchestra pit but let that not dampen the illusion) summon a shift, with lighting design by David Finn (and relighter, Bosco Shaw). A sharp intake of breath, a celebration of winter, of attending closely to the wonder that surrounds us. Soloist Katherine Sonnekus as the Snow Fairy, and later as the Arabian Dancer, is befittingly cool and exacting. The spontaneity of the snowstorm might be down to choreographer Lev Ivanov’s poetic preference over symmetry and grand spectacle, but the “marvel of the complexity… that captures the ebbs and rushes of the elements”[iii] makes the close of Act I a visual dream. Something of course which can only be rivalled by Watanabe’s Clara travelling by goose. Watanabe, on stage for near the whole time, carries the story, and as she looks out at the audience, every fibre of her being conveys a palpable thrill. For what the Land of Snow, with its drifting formations and oracular fever[iv] revels in, Drosselmeyer’s dream world of dancers from different lands, continues the flow and never-settle energy.

As the wind eddies in the Waltz of the Snowflakes, Act II deems there must always be a flurry of fairies, intoxicatingly quick piqué turns, and a sense of soaring, effortless soaring. Joining Sonnekus, here comes principal artist Benedicte Bemet’s Sugar Plum, in fine, fringed layers of dusty pink tulle with hand-embroidered plums, and Precious Adams’s, who joined the company this year in the role of Senior Artist, as the Rose fairy. An exaltation of fairies, capable of flight! The sustained applause from the audience as they perform fouettés on the diagonal and other feats of spellworking brings goosebumps to my arms. Adams’s Rose Fairy is mesmeric, and to fluid technique, she is warmth and generosity. In Bemet’s Sugar Plum Fairy Pas de Deux with her Cavalier, she appears to hover in the air. Her Sugar Plum is beautifully articulated, all grace and feeling. Everything has been leading to this moment of whipped confection, and who wouldn’t wish to escape, to transform, as Clara does, into a Sugar Plum Fairy. It lies, for me, at the heart of the return.

To the ephemeral beauty of snowfall, and awakening at the foot of a Christmas tree, of The Nutcracker I’ll never tire.

 

Yuumi Yamada in Sir Peter Wright’s The Nutcracker, photographed by Kate Longley

 

[i] Originally designed by interior designer John Truscott, this is the “first major refurbishment since opening in 1984. …Cultural buildings are complex because every design decision shapes a network of experiences — ranging from how a performer hears the room, to how an audience member reaches their seat and how technical teams support what happens on stage.” ‘Arts Centre Melbourne’s refurbished Ian Potter State Theatre reopens’, Architecture AU, https://architectureau.com/articles/arts-centre-melbournes-refurbished-ian-potter-state-theatre-reopens/, accessed 26th October, 2026.

[ii] Neither Aya Watanabe nor Calmeron Holmes were debuting in these roles. I have seen Watanabe as Clara in a Dance of the Snowflakes excerpt from The Australian Ballet’s Celebration Gala in 2021.

[iii] Rose Mulready, ‘Properly Marvellous’, The Australian Ballet’s The Nutcracker Melbourne and Sydney programme, 2026, p. 26.

[iv] “Oracular fever” from Mary Oliver’s poem, First Snow, published in The New Yorker in 1981, describes the quiet beauty of snowfall and calls the reader to attend closely to the “why, how, whence” of the wonder around us, be it in nature or on stage.

 

Sir Peter Wright’s The Nutcracker, photographed by Kate Longley

 

The Australian Ballet present The Nutcracker in Sydney from the 28th of November, 2026.

 

Drosselmeyer: Joseph Romancewicz
Clara: Aya Watanabe
Prince: Cameron Holmes
Sugar Plum Fairy: Benedicte Bemet
Snow Fairy: Katherine Sonnekus
Rose Fairy: Precious Adams
Harlequin: Drew Hedditch
Columbine: Lilla Harvey
Jack-in-the-box: Bryce Latham
Nutcracker doll: Daniel Bryne
King Rat: Alain Juelg
Mirliton: Yuumi Yamada
Mirliton: Lilly Maskery
Mirliton: Lilla Harvey
Mirliton: Grace Carroll
Arabian Dancer: Katherine Sonnekus
Arabian Dancer: Brodie James
Chinese Dancer: Marko Juusela
Chinese Dancer: Drew Hedditch
Trepak Dancer: Henry Berlin
Trepak Dancer: Corey Gavan
Trepak Dancer: Charlton Tough

 
 
 
 

Image credit: Isobelle Dashwood in The Nutcracker by Sir Peter Wright, photographed by Kate Longley

I have been collaborating with Louise Jennison since 1999, making artists’ books, collages, large-scale installations, prints, drawings, zines, and various tales. Besotted still, it appears, with paper for its adaptable, concealable, revealing nature, we use an armoury of play, the poetic and familiar too, with the intention of luring you into our A(rtists’ books) to Z(ines).

As artists and wildlife carers, our practice frequently concerns the natural world, addressing themes of conservation and biodiversity. Our home-based studio is also home to our wildlife shelter, Tiny but Wild.

I collage with words about dance for Fjord Review.