It took me a while to figure out how to write this article. Reviewing the professional San Francisco Ballet felt daunting since I am not a dancer and know little about the art of ballet. So, I decided to approach this from a different angle—the perspective I experienced it from.
As a kid, I watched the San Francisco Ballet’s Nutcracker countless times. It was a cherished family tradition, something I eagerly anticipated every Christmas. I would dress up in my red velvet dress and sparkly flats, convinced they would fit me forever, as we prepared for a magical evening at the War Memorial Opera House.
Stepping into the Opera House felt like entering an entirely different world. The grandeur of the hallways, the shiny marble staircases– everything seemed to glow with an enchanting light. We always sat in the same place every year: the top balcony. It was semi-affordable, and from up there, you could see the entire orchestra below. I remember running up the staircases, twirling on my toes and watching my dress spin around me, at each step pretending I was a ballerina too.
Once we reached our seats, my family and I would settle in, whispering excitedly as the lights dimmed. The doors closed, the audience murmurs faded, and the curtain rose. The magic began.
This year, for the first time, I watched the Nutcracker from floor seats. The San Francisco Ballet had given me free tickets to write an article for our newspaper. They gave us seats much “better” than those my family had had. But here’s what I learned in watching from those glamorous seats: nothing beats the balcony.
Don’t get me wrong, being so close to the stage was extraordinary. I could see the dancers’ expressions, the intricate details of their costumes, and the way their movements carried immense precision and grace. But sitting so close also made it easier to notice imperfections: a slightly off-synchronized movement or a subtle misstep. These moments, while minor, took away some of the magic.
Being on the ground level, surrounded by the towering, intricate sets, made me feel small. It reminded me of the contrast to sitting on the balcony, where everything looked flawless, where I felt bigger than reality, part of a perfect picture painted just for me.
For me, the balcony holds a kind of wonder that proximity cannot replicate. From up there, you see the ballet as a whole, a mesmerizing, seamless masterpiece untouched by human error. And perhaps that’s the magic I want to hold onto most.
So if there’s one takeaway from this very informal review, let it be this: floor tickets, while beautiful, are far more overrated than they should be. The balcony will always be the best place to sit when you want to feel totally and completely immersed in the story that is the nutcracker.