The holiday season is synonymous with many cherished traditions, and for dancers, it invariably brings to mind countless performances of The Nutcracker. Having spent a decade of my young life immersed in the ballet world, from the tender age of six to sixteen, The Nutcracker was an annual fixture. Year after year, I found myself on stage in my studio’s rendition, embodying various roles within this timeless classic. This deep-rooted experience, encompassing countless rehearsals and performances, allows me, I believe, to offer a definitive ranking of every single dance in The Nutcracker. So, allow yourself to be swept away to the enchanting Land of Sweets as we embark on a journey through the choreography, music, and sheer magic of this beloved ballet, all while I share some perhaps controversial opinions!
Number Twenty – Toy Soldiers
Bringing up the rear, languishing in the last position, are the dreaded Toy Soldiers. Frankly, this dance is as exciting as watching paint dry. While choreographers attempt to inject some dynamism, the inherent limitations of portraying soldiers, stiff and regimented, restrict any real creative flair. And let’s not even talk about those ridiculous hats – a constant battle to keep perched on your head. The musical score for this number is equally uninspired, a forgettable march that fades into the background. Having been subjected to this routine multiple times, I can attest to its monotony; a sentiment echoed by my fellow soldiers on stage. Within the battle scene itself, brimming with energy and drama, the Toy Soldiers number is a distinct low point, paling in comparison to the surrounding excitement.
Number Nineteen – Chinese Tea
Navigating the complexities of The Nutcracker, one cannot ignore the problematic racial undertones woven throughout the ballet, and the Chinese Tea variation stands out as particularly jarring. The music itself is cringeworthy, evoking stereotypical and outdated perceptions of Asian culture. This discomfort extends to the choreography and costuming choices frequently seen in productions, often perpetuating caricature rather than cultural appreciation. Furthermore, its brevity is a disservice; it’s over before it has a chance to develop, leaving little to no lasting impression, especially when juxtaposed with other dances of similar length that manage to be far more impactful and engaging. It’s short, yes, but certainly not sweet, leaving a rather bitter taste.
Number Eighteen – Angels
Occupying the eighteenth spot are the Angels, a dance that lost its luster after enduring it for several consecutive years in my childhood performances. “Yawn-inducing” truly encapsulates the experience. The choreography is generally uninspired, relying heavily on simplistic formations, and the music is repetitive and lacks dynamism. A significant portion of the dance involves young children merely walking in lines, a spectacle that struggles to maintain audience engagement for any extended period. While the Sugar Plum Fairy makes a fleeting appearance, her presence is insufficient to redeem this number from its overall sense of filler. It’s a lull in the narrative, a moment where energy dips rather than builds.
Number Seventeen – The Magic Castle In The Land of Sweets
Landing at number seventeen is the Magic Castle scene within the Land of Sweets. This segment primarily serves a narrative function, bridging the story between acts, and consequently lacks inherent “wow” factor as a standalone dance. Productions vary significantly in their interpretation of this scene, sometimes elaborate, sometimes simple. Its charm lies in witnessing the Prince recount the events of the first act to the Sugar Plum Fairy, guiding the audience through the story progression, but as a dance spectacle, it’s relatively understated.
Number Sixteen – Party Scene Toy Soldier
Coming in at number sixteen is the Party Scene Toy Soldier, a solo that takes on different names depending on the production’s interpretation – sometimes a male doll, other times, as in my studio’s case, a toy soldier. Regardless of the moniker, this number has never particularly stood out. It can be enjoyable to perform, especially for young male dancers in the party scene, offering a moment in the spotlight. However, the music is pleasant but not remarkable, and the choreography tends to adhere to fairly predictable patterns, lacking significant originality or surprise. It’s a solid, if somewhat formulaic, addition to the party scene.
Number Fifteen – Tarantella
Securing the fifteenth position is the Tarantella. My studio opted to skip this variation, leaving me without a strong personal connection to it. Its placement relatively low on the list is largely due to its unfortunate position in the ballet’s structure – it directly follows the emotionally resonant grand Pas de Deux. In comparison, the Tarantella inevitably feels somewhat anticlimactic. It’s intended as a lighthearted, diverting piece to follow such a powerful and moving dance, but it simply doesn’t quite reach the same heights, feeling a bit like a pleasant but ultimately less memorable interlude.
Number Fourteen – The Party Scene
Occupying the fourteenth spot is The Party Scene. Ranking every individual dance within this expansive scene would be an undertaking in itself, and variations abound across productions. However, certain moments consistently shine. Drosselmeyer’s dramatic entrance, underscored by riveting music, is a perennial highlight, always inducing a sense of anticipation. The subtle yet poignant connection between Clara and Drosselmeyer’s nephew is another beautiful touch. For young dancers, particularly boys, the party scene offers rich opportunities for character work and engagement, despite initial hesitations (speaking from experience!). The scene’s weaker points often include the parents’ dance, which can feel somewhat extraneous and slow the pacing. When executed well, the party scene is captivating; when it falters, it can become surprisingly tedious. The Doll variations are ranked separately due to their soloistic nature, distinguishing them from the broader ensemble pieces within the party.
Number Thirteen – A Pine Forest In Winter
Thirteenth place goes to A Pine Forest In Winter. This number never resonated deeply with me, often feeling longer in rehearsals than its actual duration, which is saying something in the world of ballet rehearsals! However, with time, I’ve grown to appreciate the nuanced scoring of this scene – it is undeniably beautiful, evoking a serene winter landscape. Perhaps my less-than-fond feelings stem from its position in the performance order, directly preceding the Snow scene, which historically induced pre-performance anxiety. Despite personal associations, the inherent quality of the music elevates this number beyond some of the lower-ranked dances.
Number Twelve – Doll
Landing in twelfth place is Doll. “Cute” is the operative word here, and that’s essentially its defining characteristic. The costumes are invariably adorable, and it’s undeniably fun to perform, allowing for playful characterization. However, beyond its charm, the Doll variation lacks substantial depth or complexity, occupying a pleasant but not particularly memorable space within the ballet.
Number Eleven – Russian
Number eleven is the Russian dance, and this placement might raise some eyebrows, as it’s often considered iconic. However, in my opinion, it’s somewhat overrated. The Russian variation typically falls into two familiar categories: the candy cane interpretation or a more traditional Russian folk dance style. Unfortunately, there seems to be limited room for innovation beyond these established tropes. The inherent rigidity in its conception can become predictable after repeated viewings. To any choreographers reading this – I implore you, explore choreography beyond children jumping through hula hoops or stereotypical, Americanized Russian folk dance clichés! Furthermore, the music itself has become somewhat overplayed, diminishing its impact. This is my truth, and I stand by it.
Number Ten – Mice/Mouse King/Battle Scene As A Whole
Sneaking into the top ten at number ten is Mice/Mouse King/Battle Scene as a whole. This is admittedly a bit of a cheat, grouping an entire scene together, but the Toy Soldiers’ abysmal ranking warranted their separate designation, especially in contrast to the sheer brilliance of the Mice. Regrettably, I never had the opportunity to portray a mouse, a lingering disappointment. This scene, excluding the aforementioned soldiers, is consistently excellent. The music is phenomenal (the Mouse King’s entrance theme is iconic!). The mice’s theatrical overreactions when the Mouse King is “slain” are pure comedic gold. Clara’s decisive act of throwing her slipper – undeniably iconic. When executed effectively, the battle scene is a joyous spectacle to behold. Toy Soldiers, however… you remain in last place!
Number Nine – Spanish
Claiming the ninth spot is Spanish. This variation holds a special place for me, having performed the lead role for several years. Speaking from experience, its enjoyment is heavily skewed towards the lead dancer. Being relegated to the ensemble as a male dancer was significantly less rewarding. The costumes are typically striking and visually appealing, adding to the overall allure. Moreover, the Spanish score is, in my opinion, consistently underrated. If you haven’t truly listened to it, I encourage you to do so; it’s captivating. A concise yet thoroughly enjoyable number.
Number Eight – Mother Ginger and the Polichinelles
Eighth place belongs to Mother Ginger and the Polichinelles, a consistent crowd-pleaser, largely thanks to the iconic Mother Ginger character. Beyond her theatrical presence, the Polichinelles (or “pollies” as my studio affectionately called them) provide an undeniably adorable and energetic interlude. It’s deceptively challenging, requiring considerable speed and precision, particularly considering it’s often performed by dancers under ten years old. The most rewarding aspect of the Pollies was witnessing the sheer pride and elation of the young performers as they exited the stage. And the music? Undeniably catchy and infectious. It’s a beloved number for very good reason!
Number Seven – Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy
Seventh place is secured by the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. Truthfully, I also find this one slightly overrated, but ranking it lower would be a disservice. Any dancer who undertakes this solo deserves immense respect. The sheer technical demands are staggering. I personally never aspired to be the Sugar Plum Fairy, simply observing the physical exertion required was enough! When flawlessly executed, the combination of exquisite costuming and the performer’s stamina creates a truly mesmerizing spectacle. While it may appear effortless, having witnessed weeks of meticulous rehearsal, I can attest to the immense dedication and painstaking detail required to perfect every nuance. To any dancer who has performed this iconic solo, I offer my sincere admiration – you are a true testament to dedication and artistry.
Number Six – Marzipan
Number six is Marzipan, also known as Dance of the Reed Flutes. For reasons unknown, I was never cast in this number, a missed opportunity I still lament, as the choreography is undeniably dynamic and captivating. The intricate footwork and precise formations are truly impressive! I particularly appreciate it as a group dance, but when performed as a trio, its complexity is amplified. The sheer amount of time dancers spend balanced on pointe in Marzipan is astounding. The musical shift, where the melody briefly turns intense and almost foreboding before reverting to its airy lightness, is one of my favorite musical moments within the entire ballet. Despite never performing it, my muscle memory retains my studio’s choreography, and I occasionally find myself spontaneously executing the steps in my living room – a clear indication of my lingering Marzipan envy!
Number Five – Finale
Entering the top five at number five is Finale. This is a deeply personal favorite. Witnessing everyone’s individual musical cues and entrances, culminating in the unified joy of dancing as one ensemble, and then the poignant moment of Clara’s departure, has always evoked profound emotion, regardless of how many times I performed it. Something about this concluding scene has resonated deeply for reasons I can’t fully articulate. It’s both beautiful and emotionally charged, a fitting culmination to the Nutcracker journey.
Number Four – Waltz of the Flowers
Fourth place belongs to Waltz of the Flowers. The music is breathtakingly beautiful, the costumes are elegant and visually stunning, and the audience invariably adores it. However, it is undeniably challenging and lengthy. Countless rehearsal hours were dedicated to perfecting the intricate formations, which, despite appearing effortless to the audience, are incredibly demanding and precise, especially considering the large number of dancers involved. My favorite moments include the triumphant grand finale of the music and the brief interlude where Dew Drop performs a solo – a welcome respite for the ensemble and a captivating display of individual artistry.
Number Three – Arabian Coffee
Bronze medal position, number three, is Arabian Coffee. I simply adore Arabian, primarily due to its extraordinary music. It possesses a haunting yet melodic quality that defies easy description if you haven’t experienced it firsthand. To put it simply: the atmosphere it creates is unparalleled. This is another number that is captivating to watch from backstage. The audience becomes so completely engrossed in the performance that you could hear a pin drop. It’s consistently a hit with families, certainly with mine, who faithfully attended every performance. My high school’s rendition of Arabian was particularly magical and memorable. However, the “elephant in the room” is the persistent issue of racial undertones. This variation is almost exclusively performed by white dancers, and the choreography often leans heavily towards Westernized interpretations. The number would be immeasurably enhanced if performed by dancers of Arab descent, incorporating authentic Arabian folk dance traditions.
Number Two – Waltz of the Snowflakes
Silver medal, number two, goes to Waltz of the Snowflakes. My relationship with Snow is complex. For a considerable period after performing it, I genuinely couldn’t listen to the music due to its strong association with pre-performance dread and anxiety – a testament to its demanding nature. As mentioned previously, nearly every time I performed Snow, I experienced a mini (and once, a full-blown) panic attack beforehand. Beyond the Sugar Plum Fairy’s variations, this is arguably the most technically challenging piece in the entire ballet. The music’s tempo and dynamics fluctuate seemingly at random, the timing is incredibly intricate, and the spacing is notoriously difficult. And let’s not even delve into the frenetic middle section where you feel as though you’re dancing for your very survival! The number is intended to evoke a snowstorm, so its intensity is understandable. But then, when the “snow clears,” the music softens, and Clara and the Prince enter, it’s truly magical. And the snow falling from above is the perfect finishing touch. The conclusion of Snow consistently moved me to tears, and even listening to it now evokes that same emotional response. Waltz of the Snowflakes is undeniably grueling to perform, but it’s also arguably the most rewarding number in the entire ballet, for both dancers and audience alike.
Number One – Pas De Deux
And finally, in the top spot, unsurprisingly, at number one: the grand Pas De Deux from Act II. If you have any familiarity with The Nutcracker, this placement will likely come as no surprise. What can be said about this masterpiece that hasn’t already been articulated countless times? Let’s begin with the music. A compelling argument can be made that it is among the most beautiful compositions ever created. Its emotional journey remains captivating even after countless listens. It begins as a tender, romantic suite, evolves into a nervous plea, delves into moments of dread and terror, before culminating in an explosion of pure, unadulterated joy. It concludes with blissful violins and a triumphant final three counts. If, by some chance, you have never experienced the Pas De Deux music, I implore you to listen to it immediately. And the choreography! The Prince’s lift of the Sugar Plum Fairy at the music’s climax, followed by the dip as the melody softens! The Sugar Plum Fairy’s pirouettes perfectly mirroring the fluttering music in the middle section! The simple yet profound gestures of connection at the beginning! And the final attitude en pointe? Simply breathtaking! The Pas De Deux transcends mere words, despite my inadequate attempts to describe its magnificence. It exemplifies how music and dance can surpass spoken language, reaching a deeper, more visceral human level. It is, quite simply, a masterpiece.
And there you have it – the definitive ranking! This was a delightful trip down memory lane, and I trust my opinions weren’t excessively controversial. If you’ve never experienced The Nutcracker, numerous filmed versions are readily available on platforms like YouTube, as attending a live performance can be quite costly. Despite its occasional challenges (Toy Soldiers, I’m looking at you!), The Nutcracker holds a cherished place in my heart, brimming with both fond and less-fond memories. Just as the Toy Soldiers will forever remain at the bottom of my list, I sincerely hope The Nutcracker endures for centuries to come, continuing to enchant audiences and inspire dancers for generations.
Written by Grace Bradley
Photography by Alec Conwell
CD/PM: Jazzi Almestica
PA: Lucy Anderson
Styling and Design: Catalina Torres
Talent: Callie Okun, Kalia Bar, Orlando Rodriguez
