ACB’s production of The Nutcracker Suite this holiday season was nothing short of magic. Few performances have transported me so fully into another world as this experience.
I wasn’t really sure what to expect when I bought a ticket to the American Contemporary Ballet’s 2025 Nutcracker, especially because I was already planning on seeing another Nutcracker (by the LA Ballet company) on Christmas Eve. I was hoping there wouldn’t be too much overlap or redundancy–and boy, did that fear turn out to be completely unfounded. This experience and that ended up being at extreme opposite ends on the spectrum between modern and traditional.
But talking about the performance is already me getting ahead of myself. We need to start at the beginning, on 12/18/2025.
Arrival & Immersion
ACB performs in their own small event space, which is located in a lower level in the Bank of America Plaza in downtown Los Angeles. As far as I know, this is their private studio and there are no other types of performances here.
If you only care about the ballet performance itself, you can skip this section. But this is what started to separate ACB from any other company out there.
Arriving, I walk up the steps to this financial district skyscraper, enter into the massive corporate lobby, and make my way down a long escalator to a floor or two below ground level. There is still an outdoor area here, set down and apart from the street, but first, there’s the ticket booth.
After a short line, I scan my digital ticket, and was given a tear-off generic paper ticket in return. “Give this to Janice,” I’m told, as the person gestured to go out the doors behind her. “Oh, uh, okay,” I replied, double-checking that I was indeed here for a ballet.
Stepping outside, it’s a short curved walk until I arrive back inside, in a new area. This area already has a few dozen people waiting around (it’s about 20 minutes before showtime), but I am first greeted by a ballerina at a large wooden desk. The desk is mostly empty, other than some generic office supplies and a bright red telephone; in fact, the whole room seems to be a little empty, like it was usually unoccupied, as if someone had put up quick corporate dressing over a vacant office space.
The ballerina at the desk gives me a customer-service smile and extends her hand, asking for the ticket. “Oh, you must be Janice,” I say, unsure of the purpose of receiving a generic ticket at the last table just to immediately give it to someone at this table. But I had it to her, and she examines it.
There’s nothing on this ticket that says anything about my seat, my name, or anything. But after she looks at it for a moment, she hands it back to me and says, “Great. Go and report to room 117A.” (I might be getting the exact wording and room number wrong, but you get the idea.)
“I am here for the Nutcracker, right?” I say. She just smiles and waves me along, a perfectly efficient receptionist.
It seems like other people in the crowd are waiting, but after waiting a bit myself, I realize that they’re just waiting for the show, not for room 117A, which I’ve identified as being directly behind the reception area in this same room. Walking into room 117A is a strange experience. The lights are on, and there’s another generic office desk, a file cabinet, some blank papers and more generic supplies. On the wall behind the desk is, if I recall correctly, a large framed picture of–another office space. And sitting at the desk is a ballerina (who I later identified as Tatiana Burns).
This ballerina is looking at me like I just got mud on her tutu. Her eyebrows are raised, she is staring at me expectantly, like it’s my line and I’m missing my cue. She is waiting for me to speak and I have no idea what I’m supposed to say, like one of those dreams we all get from time to time.
I offer my paper ticket. “Hi, is this the Nutcracker?” I say, nothing else coming to mind. “Um, is it?” she replies.
The rest of the brief conversation felt like a corporate executive taking a bad day out on a new intern. At one point she picked up the telephone and called the receptionist, at the desk in the room I had just came from. No significant words were exchanged.
By the time I walked back out into the hallway, a new line had formed behind me of others ready to get belittled by a ballerina. At least now I could talk about the experience with the other guests waiting for the show who had already ventured in. Down the hall, there was another identical room (117B?) with another ballerina in it doing the same thing, and further down, another waiting room with a large picture of a waiting room on the wall.
The whole experience felt like a squadron of ballerina aliens arrived on Earth and put together an office building without really knowing what an office building was. If you’re familiar with liminal spaces or concepts like “the backrooms,” it was like being there in person. The whole thing was wildly enjoyable, and in a way, it felt like we (the audience) were all collectively Clara Stahlbaum from the Nutcracker, having found ourselves overtaken by a strange, captivating dream.
As the clock reached the performance start time, the loudspeakers blared. A ballerina’s voice invited us to step away from the corporate reality, and into a world more magical.
The Winter Wonderland
The crowd filtered into the performance space, a long and intimate stage right up against the seating, without any real separation. There were ballerinas on roller skates, meant to conjure images of ice skating, doing loops around the performance area. There was fake snow on the ground, and the room was bathed in a deep blue light, with a muted white winter light glowing from behind the stage.
After finding my seat in the front row (Row A Seat 21), I followed some of the crowd over to the far end. There were more delights to be found over here.
First, a popcorn stand, with old-timey boxes of popcorn available for all of us. There were also complimentary glasses of champagne or cider.
There were a couple ballerinas standing motionless nearby, with large toy wind-up dials attached to their backs. When someone came and gave the dial a turn, the ballerina would suddenly creak to life in front of us. She’d perform actions in a tight, robotic pattern, with all that athleticism and body control funneled into mimicking an old-fashioned toy.
One of them blew bubbles, and would repeat the act whenever she was wound. I wonder how these were attached, and how they were able to feel the winding.
Another would arrange her candy box.
Other performances of the Nutcracker show Herr Drosselmeyer bringing Clara various “dolls” on stage, really other ballerinas who then activate and perform for her and the others. In ACB’s Nutcracker Suite, we are again put in the role of a collective Clara ourselves, as if the mysterious Drosselmeyer was just offstage, having delivered us these treats mere moments ago.
The chamber orchestra is also present and immediate, playing preludes up close and personal to the side without any separation.
We also were given these wonderful programs, thick cardstock in the form of a menu at an upscale restaurant. I was so charmed that I took a few photos of it, even though it’s hard to make out in the deep blue light; I’ll put all 3 here so you can see views of the stage behind it too. I didn’t get many good shots.
After a few minutes to allow the whole crowd to get their drinks and snacks and experiences, the lights flashed and the music cued, and we all took our seats.
The Performance
There were 11 short acts in ACB’s performance. There was no semblance of plot, no narrative structure, no attempt to tie them together in any way–purposefully, this was meant as a series of exhibitions, rather than a story. After all, it’s not like the normal Nutcracker has much of a story anyway. ACB seems to say “why even bother? look what we can do instead!” and it works.
The schedule was as follows:
Waltz of the Snowflakes
Victoria Manning Long with Hannah Barr, Tatiana Burns, Annette Cherkasov, Ruthie Dalby, Madeline Duritza, Emma Maples, Vanessa Meikle, & Sofie Treibitz
Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy
Kate Huntington
Hot Chocolate
Sarah Bukowski with Tatiana Burns, Ruthie Dalby, Zooey Kraemer, & Emma Maples
Coffee
Vanessa Meikle with Maté Szentes
Tea
Hannah Barr
Candy Canes
Cecelia Johnson with Victoria Manning Long & Emma Maples
Marzipan
Annette Cherkasov, Madeline Houk, Vanessa Meikle, & Sofie Treibitz
Mother Ginger
Ellie Renner with Harper Theno
Waltz of the Flowers
Kristin Steckmann with Hannah Barr, Tatiana Burns, Ruthie Dalby, Madeline Duritza, Victoria Manning Long, Sofie Treibitz
Grand Pas de Deux
Kate Huntington with Maté Szentes
Finale
Ensemble
Given everything that had led up to the performances, it was no surprise that ACB eschewed tradition across each act, too. While the costumes and some subtle details hinted at a more familiar Nutcracker, these performances were displays of intense energy and poise. Sitting so close to the dance area deemphasized the regular ideas of staging and lines (though they were still present), and instead emphasized Balanchine-driven power, athleticism, speed, and physical precision.
Between some acts, the candy-tray ballerinas would emerge and provide service to the audience. First there was a choice of gelato flavors (including chocolate and coffee). Next, I believe, macaroons, something tea-flavored? Next were marzipans, which I had never actually had before. Finally, a gingersnap cookie in a little lace bag. It brought your senses fully into the magic as you ate the candy of the dance you were watching. What a delight.
Musically, the 7-piece chamber orchestra, along with two vocal talents, added so much more to the whole event. I think the choice of live music was so vital to the whole effect, where prerecorded music would have felt oddly fake against so many other aspects that were so vividly real. The orchestra’s performance was also exceptional.
I came very close to double-categorizing this review as both Ballet and Immersive Theater. The audience interaction was, I believe, a sort of decoration on the actual event (the performances themselves), but it was so expansive and enthralling that it could’ve almost stood on its own.
The performances seemed to fly by. It’s a good sign for the performance when it feels like less time has passed than actually has, but truly that may be my only complaint: there wasn’t even more of it! In a flash, it was over, like Clara waking up from her dream. Soon I was back on the steps outside the Bank of America Plaza, wondering to myself, did all of that really just happen?
Full Cast & Context
The complete list of performers:
- Victoria Manning Long
- Hannah Barr
- Tatiana Burns
- Annette Cherkasov
- Ruthie Dalby
- Madeline Duritza
- Emma Maples
- Vanessa Meikle
- Sofie Treibitz
- Kate Huntington
- Sarah Bukowski
- Zooey Kraemer
- Maté Szentes
- Cecelia Johnson
- Madeline Houk
- Ellie Renner
- Harper Theno
- Kristin Steckmann
A better look at this imaginative menu program, taken later back at home.
The musicians:
- Nelly Guevara: Violin I
- Alisa Luera: Violin II
- Yu-Ting Hsu: Viola
- Olivia Hunt: Cello
- Emma McCartney: Flute
- Jesus David: Clarinet
- Morgan Jones: Piano
- Ariana Raygoza: Voice
- Sydney Lee Reyes: Voice
The creative team:
- Lincoln Jones: Choreography & Conception
- Ruoxuan Li: Costume Design
- Martha Carter: Lighting Design
- Max Jezek: Production Design
- Start Today: Graphic Design
- Jessica Piazza: Poetry
- Edvarda Braanaas: Illustrations
- James McMillen: Music Arrangement
- Kathy McMillen: Music Arrangement
Lifting up the taped flap in the menu program shows the list of acts without performers, so the taped part could be cycled out night to night depending on the people involved.
ACB is:
- Lincoln Jones: Director
- Morgan Jones: Music Director
- Kristin Steckmann: Casting/Rehearsal/Auditions Coordinator
- Olivia Ingram: Development Manager
- Dado Cabaravdic: Production Manager
- Amy Jones: Communications Manager
- Alexandra Lusaka: Studio Assistant
- Katherine Roth: Captain Candyballs (???)
The Nutcracker started as a story by E.T.A. Hoffman in 1816, later softened and adapted by Alexandre Dumas. The version that most people know today is the 1892 ballet choreographed by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov in St. Petersburg. It follows young Clara, a mysterious nutcracker doll, a battle with the Mouse King, and a journey to the magical Land of Sweets. It’s half Christmas party and half showcase of divertissements, and it’s a ballet school rite of passage; in the US, Nutcracker productions can often fund the ballet company’s entire next year.
The score for The Nutcracker was written by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, who also wrote Swan Lake and Sleeping Beauty. Born in 1840 in Russia, he built upon his formal conservatory training to write with emotion that pushed his work far beyond Russian borders. The celesta in “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” was a brand new instrument at a time, which he closely guarded before the premiere; unfortunately, he died in 1893, just a year after the Nutcracker debuted, without seeing how successful it would become.
The Bank of America Plaza is a tall, clean-lined tower on Hope Street, finished in 1974. It’s a dark glass International Style skyscraper, technically more in Bunker Hill than in the financial district. It’s 55 stories tall, and located conveniently close to the Music Center and the Walt Disney Concert Hall.
American Contemporary Ballet is a small, hyper-focused modern ballet company founded in 2011 by Lincoln Jones. The repertory leans heavily toward Balanchine and classical modernism rather than tradition.
