His cape envelops Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre's "Nutcracker" like a warm, comforting blanket, the kind under which we used to cuddle as kids, nodding off to the sounds of a bedtime story.

		Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre presents "The Nutcracker" Where: Benedum Center, Downtown. When: Performances run from Saturday through Dec. 27; times vary. Tickets: $14 to $70; 412-456-6666, online at www.pbt.org or visit Theater on the Square.

Drosselmeyer, who can be anything from a villainous, mysterious presence to a pseudo-prince in other productions, is a major figure in Terrence Orr's turn-of-the century Pittsburgh version, a charming, handsome and well-traveled uncle who sets the Stahlbaum household spinning on an adventurous journey one Christmas Eve.

Who is he, this dark yet inviting figure who seems to capture our dreams and transform them into glorious feats of illusion? Orr immediately calls to mind similar larger-than-life figures in ballet who drive the action: a wacky Dr. Coppelius who thinks he can bring his "Coppelia" doll to life; the evil von Rothbart, who dupes Prince Siegfried in "Swan Lake"; Madge, who stirs up a cauldron of bubbling toil and trouble in "La Sylphide"; the vengeful Carabosse and her spindle in "Sleeping Beauty."

They're all considered principal character parts and are portrayed by expert dancer/actors, highly respected for their dramatic capabilities. Like silent screen stars, they use their physical gifts to portray a wide range of emotions.

Orr, once a crackerjack Coppelius during his career at American Ballet Theatre, also directed former ballet star Erik Bruhn in "La Sylphide" and has intimate knowledge of the other ballets. When designing Drosselmeyer, he saw him as "wise, distinguished and powerful, hence the perception of magic. I tried to get some sense of maturity, an attraction through fear," he explains. "He's different, but he manipulates people until everyone is on his side."

The key to Drosselmeyer, and the starting point for this story, is his sense of guilt, for Drosselmeyer had accidentally killed the Mouse King's mother. As a result, his nephew wears a patch over one eye, the consequence of a curse levied on him by the Mouse King.

Now the nephew can be freed from the curse only by the love of a beautiful young woman. On this particular Christmas, the lovely young Marie Stahlbaum could be the one to break the curse, if she can see past the deformity. Thus, everything is set into place for a wondrous journey into the Land of Enchantment.

Seven dancers will perform as Drosselmeyer during the four-week run at the Benedum Center, which begins with a 7 p.m. Saturday performance.

But three of the original Drosselmeyers can offer some perspective on the changes that have occurred since Orr's "Nutcracker" debuted in 2002.

Principal Dmitri Kulev brings with him training steeped in Russian history. Marius Petipa choreographed the original in St. Petersburg in 1892 as a result of his early years with the Bolshoi Ballet.

Corps member Aaron Ingley has a wily American approach, while Stephen Hadala is "into comic relief."

But they bring more to Drosselmeyer than just a couple of tricks up their sleeves, although Hadala will admit that "the magic is the most difficult element." As Orr jokes, "There are about 335 props to deal with. It's about learning the magic and how to be comfortable in your character."

Just as long as the exploding cane is on cue.

Some other productions, including the George Balanchine version performed by PBT for a number of years, simply dismiss the revered uncle after the first act. "Terry's version is a little more rich," says Ingley. "We do see it through to the end."

Getting a handle on such an enigmatic and sweeping character can be daunting. Hadala says that he was "scared to death the first year," and everyone who puts on that top hat has a differing thought about the character.

Now, with some perspective, Hadala muses that Drosselmeyer is slightly "scatterbrained" at the outset while fussing over the profusion of packages. Ingley sees him as "a mysterious sort of father figure," and Kulev as "a very positive man, a magician and beyond. He uses his heart to make Marie happy," he says. "He puts her through a journey that will turn out for the best."

Indeed Kulev says the best moment is saved for the end, with "a sense of relief that the whole story has ended, yes, happily ever after." Hadala opts for the scenes in front of the house in the first act, where he can develop his comic timing. Ingley likes to collect his Drosselmeyer powers, a la "Star Wars," to disperse during the transition scene and the amusement park setting.

With two years' worth of performances under their capes and no serious magical mishaps to date, the trio have the freedom this year to delve ever deeper into the character.

Hadala will concentrate on the finishing touches, such as how to remove the scarf from the Nutcracker doll, while Kulev wants to bring even "more life" to the character. Ingley gets a twinkle in his eye as he explains, "Now that I know the physics of the character, I can give it a new accent."

But that doesn't mean that Drosselmeyer will be their only hocus-pocus focus. Each of the men covers anywhere from seven to 10 other roles in the production, with each receiving due consideration. Even Kulev's general, one of the minor characters in the party scene, will be "a little fat, a little drunk" and funny.

"If I'm lucky, I'll get to do a clown," spouts Ingley, referring to his appearance with fellow corps member Alan Obuzor at the final "Nut" performance last year. They worked with the highly popular clown contingent, which probably has an average age of 10.

They both donned the Harlequin costume and its skull cap and joined in the antics, noting that "it was fun to mix it up with some little extras, as long as we stayed out of their way and let them do their thing."

Even Drosselmeyer would have approved.