Sensory sensitive Nutcracker

In December, my daughter asked if we could see the sensory friendly performance of San Francisco Ballet’s Nutcracker. We hadn’t been to the War Memorial Opera House in years. What happened next was truly amazing! Right from the start, it was a different kind of performance. Instead of dimming the lights completely, they were on low. Instead of people having to wait until intermission to find their seats if they were late, they were allowed to come and go freely. Instead of being shushed during the performance for making sounds, people were allowed to hum, and that they did throughout the entire performance. It was a “no shoosh, no shame” performance and it was likely the very first time that parents or families could bring their loved ones to a performance of this caliber without fear that their behavior would be considered unacceptable or inappropriate. Parents no longer needed to apologize for their children’s behavior. There were adults with adult children with autism humming throughout the performance, flapping their arms wildly, and rocking to the music. The loud cannon did not fire for those with hearing sensitivity as well. There was a sense of collective acceptance with audience members smiling at one another instead of glaring.

Traditional arts spaces often expect silence and stillness. Audience members are not allowed to come and go during the performance. It can be exhausting to constantly monitor a loved one’s behavior in public. There is also the concern of purchasing expensive tickets, with the anxiety of possibly having to leave a performance early secondary to a family member’s “unacceptable” behavior. What struck me most was the emotion I felt watching other families, enjoying this time with my own family, and realizing how these families have been excluded from this experience during more traditional performances. Through this sensory friendly ballet experience, I entered a new dimension of rehabilitation medicine outside the exam room where the performance was designed with compassion instead of correction.

This was a world class ballet, maintaining its beauty and artistry, with amazing costumes and a live orchestra. Equal to the professional dancing on stage, extraordinary as it was, was watching an audience finally free from the pressure to apologize for existing. There was an opportunity to enjoy the world class performance in an inclusive setting without judgement. I kept thinking, “How could this be, this is amazing, this is wonderful!” Honestly, I kept expecting someone to shush someone but no one did, and that was so powerful in and of itself. The ballet was not diminished by accessibility - it expanded the experience for all those in the audience. It also allowed many persons to see a performance of this caliber for the first time ever.

So moved by the performance, Sara Tinsley and I met with Ms. Jasmine Yep Huynh, Director of Education at the SF Ballet, and she plans to contribute further information on this topic in a later issue of journal. In speaking with Ms. Yep Huynh, I learned that they had classes for those with movement challenges. Having majored in music myself, I have always held that music is the medicine of the soul. ¹ Movement to music in the form of dance and theater can be so powerful and transformative.^2,3 I thought of my patients, and one in particular with Gross Motor Functional Classification System Level 3 cerebral palsy. When he moved to music, albeit standing essentially in one spot, his movement dyskinesia was no longer apparent. In my own dance classes, I noticed others with movement apraxia, enjoying the class in their own way.

Given our high volume of downloads, I thought it would be wonderful if we could get the word out regarding sensory sensitive performances for our patient population around the world. Pediatric rehabilitation is built on inclusion. Everyone has the same wants and desires and deserves to be treated with dignity and respect - the way that they function in society is no exception.