Each year "The Nutcracker" works its magic on thousands of audience members. Certainly the Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre dancers and orchestra are up front for everyone to see, mixing their own artistic potion. But behind the scenes are costume designers who keep everyone in neat stitches, stagehands who allow Mother Ginger to twist those ample hips, and a prop master who sneaks M&Ms into the Stahlbaum buffet, to the performers' delight.
This year, knowledgeable eyes in the audience can spot a few adjustments in the action by artistic director Terrence Orr. But there is one major alteration, and it's something audiences can't quite put their collective fingers on.
Give up? That's music to the ears of lighting designer Barbara Thompson who claims, "Some of the best compliments include: 'It looks great, but I don't know why,' 'Is there a new set?' or 'I can't put my finger on it.' ... That's perfect."
Thompson, you see, works hard not to be noticed.
When she was 12, Thompson began working in local community theaters in the Washington, D.C., area. She was aiming to be a director, but her primary goal was to attend Carnegie Mellon University.
"I wanted to go there, no matter what," she says.
Thompson even took two years off after high school to get extra experience working in theater. But there were no directorial openings when the time came to apply to CMU.
"I was thrown into it," says Thompson of what became her profession. "It wasn't the way I planned to go, but a CMU professor saw something in me before I did."
She would become a technical director.
After graduation, Thompson wound up with a job at Dance Alloy, starting as house manager, then stage manager and technical director. "It grew from there," she says. Today her job is titled "lighting designer and production manager."
That even though there had been very little discussion of dance lighting at CMU. It totaled "one week's project."
But Thompson's roots lay in the specialized field of dance. She trained in ballet as a child, studying with Tensia Fonseca, who produced American Ballet Theatre stars like Peter Fonseca, Susan Jaffe and Cheryl Yeager. There were some Pittsburghers who thought Thompson would gravitate to Hollywood and work in film, because she picked up a number of professional credits along the way.
"I never had any interest in living like that," she says. "I've worked steadily here in Pittsburgh for 10 years. I like to live where the cost of living is low."
Not that Thompson has stayed put. The fast-rising Miami City Ballet has tapped her talents, as well as Joffrey Ballet.
Pittsburgh Youth Ballet's Regional Dance festival put her in a "commando lighting" mode, where she set 24 ballets in three days. As a result of that project, Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre came calling for Thompson to do "Swan Lake" last year.
Dance Alloy artistic director Mark Taylor had once predicted that Thompson would become a major player in dance lighting. The two have experimented with lighting effects -- not the flashy kind, but how lighting affects mood and even the physicality of a dancer.
"I like working with dance, because you have a lot more control," says Thompson. "When you're sculpting bodies, you create the mood over the whole fishbowl that is the stage. It's especially crucial in modern dance, where there is no set."
Thompson's work with PBT's "Swan Lake" -- set and all -- led Orr to hire her for "The Nutcracker." A month after the ballet closed, she got a call to attend some performances of the "Nut" and make some suggestions.
"Terry and I have been discussing this 'Nut' for a year," says Thompson.
Orr wanted more magic in the first act and a battle scene that was more "nightmarish." They both wanted to get rid of the tree in the snow scene. And Thompson felt that the star drop created more of "an outer space feeling" than was necessary.
The whole ballet eventually would be relit.
"It was totally exhilarating to work with Terry," says Thompson. "He has a great eye for detail, and I love the speed with which he works. His enthusiasm is contagious."
By October they were meeting weekly. Thompson spent about two weeks designing the lighting plot. She knew that she would have 13 electric battens above the stage, 12 booms or side lights, four booms at the front of the house and lighting coming from the orchestra -- about 500 devices in all. She reviewed the aspects of the story and the parts of the set to be highlighted. Then she sat down with a drawing of the Benedum Center and a draft of the set to determine placement of all the electrical equipment.
It came down to math equations, like distance of light times how big the lens area will illuminate.
Thompson's next step would be the Benedum, where her ideas would be transformed into reality. "It would cost a million just to stand around," she says. "So you have plans and back-up plans."
Luckily it all worked -- and quickly.
Thompson and her crew had a day (14 hours total) to hang the lights at the same time the set was loaded. The following day they spent another 10 hours just focusing them.
"I try to keep it under a minute for each light," explains Thompson.
The results were magical. Almost.
"The changes are not complete," she says. "But it will be a lot easier next year to refine a few things."
Then it will be lights, dance, more action ... and that elusive magic.