This evening I was given a surprise ticket to Mark Morris's The Hard Nut, a very different interpretation of the Nutcracker. The story of the Nutcracker and its relationship with the music is such a familiar trope, so to see a new version where men could be snowflakes, the party is in a modern apartment, and the young heroine falls for Drosselmeyer's nephew was strange but refreshing. Whatever gaps there were in this new fantastical plot were filled with the musicality of the Morris Dance group, their rhythm and sustain. I look forward to seeing future shows by them.
Afterwards we walked through Brooklyn, claiming a little more of the map of New York, finding ourselves in Cadman Park, where the trees were blue and orange in the night lights and sky, and the open astroturf welcomed white clouds against the black beyond. I had been here before, been lost here before with my mother and had been guided by a stranger to a station. So tonight, I knew where to find it, walked from new to known, covering more ground in this huge city.
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