Costume and character in The Nutcracker
When Eve Mutso goes on tour this winter with The Nutcracker, she will carry with her a photograph of her grandmother, just as she has on every other tour of the production. The photo, taken in 1925, is Mutso's passport to another time and place; specifically the golden days of the Weimar Republic, in which Scottish Ballet's The Nutcracker is set.
In this visually playful production, replete with the company's trademark wit and irreverence, the costumes are a particularly striking element, which allow not just the audience, but the dancers too, to leave the world outside the theatre behind and enter the fantasy. They are the link between the dancer and the character, allowing the former to take on a new form and the latter to come to life.
This symbiosis is perfectly illustrated by the relationship between Mutso and her character Frau Stahlbaum, a role created for her by former artistic director Ashley Page. When Mutso showed designer Antony McDonald the photograph of her grandmother, resplendent in glamorous finger waves and immaculate makeup, he proclaimed that this was exactly how the character, a mother living a life of ease and frivolity in 1920s Germany, should look. She keeps the photo in front of her while she does her hair and makeup, the moment in which she begins to assume her character.
Of Frau Stahlbaum, Mutso says: “She's quite laid back, sensual, I would say a bit frisky. The character represents that era very well, so the costume helps tremendously. It's a glamorous costume to have, I'm very lucky.”
Head of Wardrobe Caro Harkness adds: “Frau Stahlbaum is a lady who's got the maids doing everything for her. She's much happier accepting diamonds from her husband. The costume is very low-backed and draped and elegant, very sexy. But even when Eve's wearing a leotard you can see that in her.”
For Diana Loosmore, dancing the role of Dame Mouserink, donning her costume is more about transformation than the distillation of her natural qualities. Which is a good thing, given that the character is the evil queen of mice.
She leads her army of suffragette mice into battle against the Nutcracker in a costume inspired by Louise Brooks, which channels the actress's powerful lure. This production is sweet yet sharp, with the unknown and dangerous world of adult sexuality surfacing from below the candy coating of the children's fantasy. This darkness is reflected in the duality of the characters, reinforcing the idea that all is not what it seems beyond the innocence of childhood, and none encapsulates this more than Mouserink and her prior incarnation of the Governess.
Of the references contained in Mouserink's costume, Harkness says: “It was only when I had to remake some of the mouse costumes that I actually realised Antony had done them as a sort of homage to Scotland, because they wear these tartan skirts. The top is actually taken from the suffragette costumes, because they were around 1920, at the same time this production is set, as was Louise Brooks. That brings a power to Mouserink too; she's in charge of this little band of suffragette mice.”
Perhaps the most physically challenging of the costumes, it comes with multiple layers and a heavy tail that requires careful balancing and adds momentum to movement, and with it a sense of abandon and a cavalier air.
For Loosmore the metamorphosis begins on a practical level: “When I start the process of getting ready what I notice is the layers upon layers upon layers of stuff that I have to put on myself. The process takes an hour and 45 minutes. I can't just be getting my costume on at the fifteen minute call, and of course within the ballet you're switching between being the Governess and Mouserink, so whenever I'm not on stage I'm changing clothes.
“Wearing different types of costumes - theatrical versus minimal - is just investing in different things. When you're rehearsing this role you're doing it just as you are and then it adds an extra dimension when you bring in the costume; it enhances and creates the role. Some of the choreography may have to slightly adapt - you kind of know what you're doing in the studio but then as soon as you get into production week it could change completely, whereas if you're doing work that doesn't involve such detailed costumes, it's easier to reproduce what you've done in the studio on stage.”
Just as Mutso's flapper dress allows her to take on the languid movements befitting her character, and Loosmore's cockroach-inspired nails aid her transformation to mythical mouse, the construction of Victor Zarallo's Grandfather costume allows him to adopt the physicality of a man four times his age.
Zarallo, who is 23, revels in the acting element of the performance, which is a good thing when required to portray a pensioner, given how youthfully impish he is in person. He credits the weight and design of the costume with allowing him to move in a more restricted way: “Obviously I am quite young to play a grandfather, so when I put the costume on I can see myself maybe 50 years from now. I have padding on my stomach and I wear lots of makeup, but it's good that I have to put makeup on to look like a grandfather!
“The costume is quite tight and I'm sure that when a grandfather has to dance he feels quite limited, so the costume makes you feel physically like the character. When you wear the costume you see yourself as a totally different person and you can experience things how a grandfather would. In that way you feel quite free, even though you are physically less free, so I don't find it a challenge, I find it helpful. It makes the ballet life more interesting to me.”
