In the final performance of the night, it’s the premiere of “Princess and the Pea,” with choreography from Dani Rowe, a libretto by Rowe and Garen Scribner and music by James Stephenson. In this retelling of Hans Christian Andersen’s short story, we are introduced to a peaceful land that used to be one of variety and diversity, before (the self-titled) Princess invaded and demanded that everyone eat peas, and only peas. Anyone who disagrees is ‘canned’ (literally); everything we see in the world is violently green, including some fun gaudy plaid trousers and curtains.  

And so follows the well-trodden journey of our young character, Penelopea—who sees her parents canned after they introduce her to a carrot—who must go on a quest through the drudgery of the pea farms and eventually compete against Princess in the (rigged) mattress competition to try and regain control of the land. It’s a familiar tale of innocence and hope triumphing over the evil dictator, because the world is better when we can all be ourselves etc. You could see this as speaking to our current, turbulent times—or you could stay in this fictional world where it’s easy to agree that we all like different vegetables.

Aesthetically, “Princess and the Pea” happily embraces kitsch. The story uses a framing device in the form of Gutierrez portraying a grey suited and bespectacled commentator, who appears with a clicker and projector at various points throughout the ballet. Basia Rhoden as the evil Princess peacocks around the stage with her reliably ingratiating stooges, danced by Fernando Duarte and Reed Henry, who often lift her up on their shoulders in an awkward, butt-wiggling manner. The central triad of Anabelle de la Nuez as the young hero, and her two dads, Valentino Moneglia Zamora and Evan Boersma, forms the most emotionally full aspect of the piece, especially when they are reunited at the end. There is an enjoyable level of whimsy and surrealism in the dancing carrot played by Jonathan Dole, who leaps across the stage with vim. The set design from Emma Kingsbury is extremely well done, clearly setting up the different environs, including high up in the clouds, while Rae’s direction gives us time to observe and understand these changes of scene. 

As you may imagine, the story ends happily. The reunited family look out through their window to see a wealth of different vegetables swaying in a gentle revelry.  Here in a wintry America, we await the return of the sun, too.