For me, Christmas during childhood is appositely summed up by three things. Firstly, the consumption of so many pigs-in-blankets, it would inevitably lead to me spending the remainder of Christmas afternoon lying on the floor and whimpering ‘Never Again’. If there is a child’s version of a hangover, this is it. Secondly, the merging together of various Christmas presents. ‘No Barbie, No visiting Ken for you. Instead, you will sit here with me and read my newly acquired history book on Edwardian London (It was for her own good; Ken was constantly disappointed with her ignorance in this area). Lastly, I always looked forward - with glee – to the annual production of the Nutcracker.

The latter is something I was lucky enough to experience again this Christmas with the performance at the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden. ‘The Nutcracker’ of the title refers to a boy turned into a doll after his Uncle (Drosselmeyer) angers the Queen of the Mice by inventing a trap for the Royal Palace that kills off half of the mouse population. The only way this spell can be broken is if the Nutcracker can slay the Mouse King and if a girl will love and care for him despite his unappealing appearance. Drosselmeyer deems Clara, the female lead, as the perfect choice to help him carry out this task. The energy, grace and poise with which she executes this suggests she had not overindulged in pigs-in-blankets earlier that day.

As a child, I’m informed I became extremely alarmed at one performance by the deafening sound of the canon and the sudden appearance of Drosselmeyer when only Clara remains in the lounge. Of course I was! I was a six year old kid who was justifiably alarmed at the concept of a strange man who wasn’t Santa randomly appearing next to the Christmas tree, in a puff of smoke, to turn one of your Christmas presents into a live boy. I mean, reading that back, there is a definite touch of ‘If Hammer House of Horror did ballet’. The Christmas tree, incidentally, deserves a mention of its own. It was of gigantic proportions and absolutely stunning; in a production that is so faithfully repeated every season, it is the aesthetic details like this that ensure the atmosphere is never stale or predictable.

After the defeat of the Mouse King (Spoiler Alert! It does not, in fact, end with the formation of some sort of dystopian Mouse Government), Clara and the Nutcracker go on a journey to the Sugar Garden in the Kingdom of Sweets. Every dentist’s nightmare. Here, they meet the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Prince, whose performances were absolutely stunning. This was evidenced clearly by the rapturous applause which greeted them at the end of the performance. Much credit must also go to the decadent and beautiful set design and costumes which entirely captured the mystical and wintery effect which they intended. Even being a clearly more cynical version than my ten year old self, the scenes in the Sugar Garden still utterly enraptured me in a way that I would unashamedly describe as ‘magical’.

Even if you have not seen the production before, much of Tchaikovsky’s music will be instantly recognisable. The Arabian Dance, Russian Dance and Waltz of the Flowers notably received the most thunderous applause and I was particularly amused by the woman behind me who kept whispering ‘Oh good!’ as every well known piece began. As if this might be some renegade performance who had, this year, decided to omit the Nutcracker suite and replace it with a classical version of Gangnam Style.

I thoroughly enjoyed the evening and while I concede that ballet- as an art form- may not be to everyone’s tastes, the onset of Winter and festive atmosphere make this a performance I would be enthusiastic to recommend anyway. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and maybe, if you’re lucky like Clara, one of your presents might come to life!*

*NB. Unless it’s a clown. If it’s a clown, you’re not lucky, you’ve probably been cursed.

The Nutcracker is on until 5th January, tickets are available here.