By 2015, I had seen NYCB’s annual production of George Balanchine’s Nutcracker several times, with different casts. I have always loved the music, the choreography and the magical effects (like the falling snow to end Act 1). However, I had never really seen a fully satisfactory Sugar Plum Fairy.
Then, in 2015, a friend whose judgment I trusted told me I absolutely had to see Sterling Hyltin. I bought a ticket, and to make a long story short, fast forward seven years, and except for the 2020 pandemic when the Nutcracker went dark, I’ve seen Hyltin’s Sugar Plum Fairy every season. Sometimes twice.
There has rarely been such a perfect marriage between dancer and role. Hyltin as a dancer radiates not just sweetness but goodness. When she bourrées onstage with her pink dress and wand, you immediately know this is a benign ruler of the Land of Sweets. The delicate sound of the celesta perfectly matches the dainty way she wafts around the stage in her opening solo.
Hyltin has always been an outlier at NYCB – light, ethereal, with a spacious, airy jump, the ballerina she most resembles is Marie Taglioni. (One of her best roles was in fact Taglioni’s specialty La Sylphide.) Whereas other dancers at NYCB excel at the super-fast footwork that is a hallmark of Balanchine’s style, Hyltin’s best roles are the ones where she can show off her natural grace, charm, musicality and gorgeous epaulement. She wasn’t ever going to storm through Allegro Brillante or Ballo della Regina, but she did make you catch your breath in roles like Mozartiana or Duo Concertant.
Alas, last night was one of the final times Hyltin will waft onstage with her pink tutu and wand. She is retiring next week in Nutcracker, but last night, she was as enchanting as ever. In the grand pas de deux the beauty of her upper body was unparalleled – I swear I could tell it was her just by the proud-yet-graceful way she holds her neck. She connects each movement to the next with a smoothness that isn’t always there with even the best ballerinas. Although she said a long time ago that she was a good “jumper” instead of a turner, she has a way of accelerating her manège of pique turns so she flies into the wings. In a word, she was simply gorgeous.
The whole fall season had been a mini farewell to her – she danced several of her most famous roles and even made a debut (the last waltz in Vienna Waltzes). She was dancing with more security than ever, and with a mature glow that artists sometimes have when they know the end is near. Very few dancers can truly say they went out on top. She is one of them.
Opening night of the Nutcracker is often given to veterans of solo roles, and last night was no exception. The Cavalier was Andrew Veyette, who has been Hyltin's regular partner in this ballet since their debuts in 2006. Veyette’s days of dancing bravura roles like Oberon are over, but he’s still an expert partner who can make himself almost invisible as he shows off the ballerina. Indiana Woodward (Dewdrop) was fast, a bit mischievous, great at those flying jumps and ronde de jambes in diagonal in the Waltz of the Flowers. although the Dewdrop's famous pirouettes in attitude were not as smooth as they could have been.
Other veteran performances last night of note – Sara Adams’ Marzipan (she’s one of the few who dispatches this difficult variation without any visible effort), Daniel Ulbricht’s Candy Cane (which he’s been dancing for over 20 years!), Preston Chamblee’s sweet and funny Mother Ginger, Devin Alberda with those awesome flexed-feet entrechats as Soldier. These dancers deserve thanks for their commitment to their special solos for so many years, through so many performances.
But The Nutcracker isn’t really about the adult dancers. It’s about the children – in addition to the countless children in the audience, onstage there are over 60 per performance. The young School of American Ballet students are pitch perfect every year. Last year, due to vaccination requirements, the children were older. This year, they’ve returned to their pint-sized form, and all of them were amazing. I particularly loved the pint-sized bunny who pulls the Mouse King’s tale in a moment of quiet bravery.
And that is the last reason Sterling Hyltin’s Sugar Plum Fairy is a gold standard – with her gentleness and sweetness, she gives the impression that she is dancing for the children. When she retires next week, part of me likes to think she’s not really retiring. She’s just decided to stay in the Land of Sweets.
