Dancing Through the Snow
A Bourrée Down Memory Lane
New York City Ballet presents about 50 performances of The Nutcracker each year, running from the day after Thanksgiving through early January, with double-show days on Wednesdays, Saturdays, and Sundays. Over the course of seven years, I danced in every single one.
One of the things that makes George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker so special is its enduring legacy: the choreography, the marathon of performances, and the shared traditions that have been passed down through generations of New York City Ballet dancers for over 70 years. I felt so honored to take part in those rituals, rites of passage, and the collective feat of making it through the season, just as so many dancers had before me.
Anyone who has danced in Waltz of the Snowflakes knows it’s a six-minute “puffer,” a whirlwind of jumps, runs, and bourrées that demands both endurance and mental grit to make it through to the other side of the storm. As an NYCB apprentice, I was introduced to one of my favorite Snowflake traditions: “the chant.” It’s a ritual that boosts energy, morale, and camaraderie right before stepping onstage.
As the snow begins to fall onstage and the Nutcracker turns into a prince, the dancers gather in a backstage huddle, waiting with outstretched arms for the series of cymbal crashes in the music. With each crash the dancers do a clapping port de bras—part stretch, part explosion of energy. After the final crash, everyone runs in place as fast as possible, chanting the time-honored words:
“Go snow (go snow), let’s fly (let’s fly), be strong (be strong), don’t cry (don’t cry)!”
Then, hearts racing and adrenaline high, the dancers break to their respective wings feeling warm, united, and ready to fly into the storm.
Beyond the choreography and costumes, the magic of the scene is brought to life by the snowfall itself. The delicate flurries the audience sees are actually bits of flame-retardant paper, reused throughout the 50-performance run. After every show, the “snow” is swept up, along with stray bobby pins, rosin, and a bit of stage dust, ready to fall again for the next performance.
Over time, I learned a few important lessons: if something heavy hits your head mid-dance, it’s probably someone’s lost earring; the paper snow that inevitably lands in your mouth tastes sour and will burn terribly if it lands in your eyes; piles of snow onstage are surprisingly slippery (and perfect for accidental snow angels); and no matter how hard you try, you’ll keep finding bits of paper snow in your dance bag and apartment for months, a sure sign that Nutcracker season will soon return! Still, I don’t think a single dancer would ever wish to dance the scene without it. The snow is the magic.
No two performances were ever the same, and the slips and stumbles onstage kept things lively and human. One of my favorite mishap memories still makes me laugh. The iconic Snowflake costume isn’t complete without a large wire crown that must be pinned tightly to survive all the spinning and jumping. When I first joined, I used every single bobby pin I could find, locking them so securely that removing the crown afterward was nearly impossible!
During one show, a dancer’s crown became caught in the netting near the wings - while she was still onstage. With her back to the audience, she tried desperately to free herself, shaking her head (and the scenery along with it) and tugging at the crown as the rest of us leapt and ran past, trying not to burst into laughter. She was stuck for what felt like an eternity, struggling heroically to break free and rejoin the formation. It was exactly the kind of nightmare scenario we’d all dream about during Nutcracker season - hilarious in hindsight, terrifying in the moment!
Watch the Snow Scene
Want to see the Snow Scene come to life? Check out this 2011 recording of New York City Ballet’s Nutcracker. You can spot me dancing as one of the Snowflakes! It’s a little holiday magic you can enjoy from home.