I’ve never been to a ballet. Of all the presumably highbrow experiences I pondered whilst sipping bourbon poured from my crystal decanter, ballet never crossed my mind. I’m game for orchestras, but I never felt orchestral arrangements needed the visual aid. Then again, I do seem to enjoy auditory experiences more than most, so perhaps this was to be expected.
Liz wanted to take the kid to see the Nutcracker. I was dubious about the prerequisite attention span required, but part of being a parent is forcing culture into your child whether they want it or not, so I was on board. Off we went to the Schuster Center’s Mead Theatre!
One of the consequences of an active mind is the need for discourse. Lacking any prior relatable experience, the kid endlessly asked questions about what the hell was going on, which is a fair reaction really. To a child’s mind, I imagine it would be very confusing to watch people dance around to instrumental music, vaguely acting out a story that wasn’t based in any sort of reality.
And one of the consequences of an introspective mind is the tendency to zone out. The familiar melodies invoked thoughts of Fantasia, naturally. I also recalled hearing that Tchaikovsky never considered the piece one of his better works, yet it became one of his better-known pieces. Then I started thinking about the dancers and their well-known anorexia problems. Then I awoke with a start, embarrassed that I had fallen asleep (though no one seemed to have noticed). Damn is that music peaceful!
Conclusion: The kid wasn’t old enough for this type of venue, I found it incredibly boring, and Liz was disappointed that they had apparently modernized it from the version she knew. That’s culture I guess–an experience not terribly fun at the time, but something that forms a lasting memory to live on as nostalgia. I hope that’s how the kid recalls this experience.
–Simon