Switched at Intermission

When I recently blogged (in three parts) about a flu-stricken Nutcracker weekend, some of my friends initially confused that story with another time that our Clara became ill. That is also a funny story, illness notwithstanding, and after spending a good chunk of the day trying to update my C.V. after not touching it for five years, funny sounds…necessary.

First, some set-up. In my production of The Nutcracker, Clara receives a lovely bed for her doll as a gift that then later “grows” along with the Christmas tree, the toy soldiers, the mice, and the Nutcracker. It appears in its larger form following the battle, once the King Rat is defeated and Clara’s living room has begun transforming into the Snow Forest. The Nutcracker, now revealed to be a young Prince, invites her to sit and then gallantly pushes her downstage left where he situates the doll bed so that they can both watch the snow scene unfold. First is the Snow Pas de Deux, performed by the Snow King and Queen, followed by the Waltz of the Snowflakes. At the end of the Waltz, the Snowflakes make a diagonal from downstage left to upstage right, and the Snow King and Queen reappear to inform everyone, in elegant ballet pantomime, that Clara and the Prince are going “that way” (gesturing upstage right in third arabesque) on a journey to the magical Kingdom of the Sweets. The two couples bow to each other, Clara perches on the doll bed again, and the Prince then pushes her conveyance along the diagonal as the Snow couple make a beautiful pose, the Snowflakes shimmy their hands, and the curtain slowly closes on Act I.

This particular incident happened way back in 1998 (which in some ways doesn’t feel that long ago…in others, yes, it does), and the dancer performing the starring role of Clara was Ashley, a young, small-for-her-age student of Filipino descent with long, gorgeous black hair halfway down her back, curled into ringlets for the show. It was the final performance that year, the Sunday matinee, and Act I had gone well. The Snowflakes made their diagonal, the Snow Couple reappeared, and the Prince began pushing the doll bed upstage right in the direction of the Kingdom of the Sweets and intermission. Just as he was getting up to speed, and I was giving the standby for the curtain to close, Clara (Ashley) suddenly clapped her hands over her mouth, bailed off the back side of the bed, and ran for the stage left wings…where she was promptly sick. [Yes, she did make it off stage – see The Show Must Go On (Part 1) for the only time I’ve had a dancer vomit ON stage.]

I got to Ashley across the stage as soon as the curtain was closed, and we quickly determined that she was not going to be able to continue with the performance. Straight to the student dressing room I went…(which is its own fun story – the Southwestern Oklahoma State University Fine Arts Center has a lovely house and a big stage, and only two small dressing rooms. So, for any production with more than ten dancers, we were allowed to utilize the orchestra rehearsal room as our “dressing room.” The downside (besides it not being a dressing room at all?) was that it was located on the opposite side of the building from the stage, and the only way for the performers to get backstage, other than going through the audience, was to go along a hallway through the music wing, and outside for 30 yards to the backstage door. Yes, outside in December. But I digress.)…and got Ashley out of Clara’s costume nightgown. I dispatched helpers to take care of Ashley, find her family, etc. and then started yelling for “Lori! Lori!”

Lori was in the same level as Ashley, and was the closest to an understudy that I had. She had performed as a Party Girl already, and was probably slated to perform in Act II as a Pastry Chef, but I needed a Clara. I grabbed her and said “You have to go on as Clara, because Ashley is sick.” After a brief moment when her eyes bugged out a little, we got her into Clara’s nightgown. I did a quick overview of Act II with her, and then we rehearsed the pantomime, in which she tells the story of how Clara and the Nutcracker Prince defeated the King Rat. That was the hardest bit for her in the second act; the rest was sitting and watching for the most part.

On stage Lori went, as Clara. Front and center for the first part of the act, and then upstage center on a raised throne for the majority that followed, until she once more was escorted downstage center, took a seat on her doll bed, and was pushed off stage, waving at those assembled as the curtain closed. She did a great job. So great that most people in the audience apparently didn’t even notice that we’d switched Claras.

That’s really awesome…except that Lori was a sturdy, blue-eyed blond whose hair barely touched her shoulders.