For my Christmas Eve portrait, I thought it might be fitting to choose something suitably festive. Initially I considered some sweet containers that doubled as toys, but then I remembered that nutcracker toys have always intrigued me. I have often found it perplexing to see how widely they are used in Christmas settings and have felt like I was missing crucial information as to why they’ve been invited, and how Tchaikovsky fits into it all.

I started looking around sites and began to really look at their features. I had previously registered that they have funny little faces, but once a figure becomes familiar you tend to stop ‘seeing’ them properly, which is a pity because the expressions and demeanour of nutcrackers are often truly fantastic.

This fellow, who can be found at the Weihnachtsmuseum (Christmas Museum) in Germany, was made at the Füchtner workshop in Seiffen, a town in the Ore Mountains. His hair and beard are made of rabbit fur, and the museum website states its feet are made of bread dough, which I assume must refer to salt dough. Wilhelm Friedrich Füchtner (1844-1923), the grandson of the original founder of the workshop, is credited as being the creator of the nutcracker archetype that is so recognisable today – with the hat, the beard, the boots, and the smart Hussar soldier outfit.

Other kinds of standing nutcrackers existed before this design and continue to be made today – they often poke fun at stiff figures of authority, their grimacing nut-cracking jaws adding to the overall effect. The nutcracker figure that we are most familiar with is based on the character from the novella by Hoffmann ‘The Nutcracker and the Mouse King’ (1816) [see a full version here, translated from German]. The story takes place over Christmas, when a girl called Maria and her brothers get given a wonderful clockwork castle by their godfather, a watchmaker. Maria’s eye is caught by a soldier among the figures in the castle, and takes a fancy to it:

“[…] a curious little man came into view, who stood there silent and retired, as if he were waiting quietly for his turn to be noticed. It must be confessed, a great deal could not be said in favour of the beauty of his figure, for not only was his rather broad, stout body, out of all proportion to the little slim legs that carried it, but his head was by far too large for either.

A genteel dress went a great way to compensate for these defects, and led to the belief that he must be a man of taste and good breeding. […] It was laughable to see that in addition to this handsome apparel he had hung upon his back a narrow clumsy cloak, that looked as if it were made of wood, and upon his head he wore a woodman’s cap […]”

Saying he could crack the hardest nuts with his teeth, Maria’s father then

“took him carefully from the table and raised up his wooden cloak, whereupon the little man stretched his mouth wide open, and showed two rows of very white sharp teeth.”

After her brother breaks the nutcracker’s jaw and a few of his teeth by overloading it with nuts, she looks after it and bandages it. At night, it comes to life and fights against the evil Mouse King, taking her to a magical Land of Toys.  

In 1844 the story was translated and retold by Alexandre Dumas, and it was this version that served as the basis for Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker – this seems to have cemented its standing in traditional Christmas imagery.

Nowadays, the bits formerly made with salt dough are made of wood, too. The design was eventually imitated by other craftsmen and there are currently several well-known toy workshops in the Ore Mountains region making this style of nutcracker, as well as other styles.   

The region, known as the Erzgebirge in German, is a mining area in Saxony where toymaking has been a fixture for more than 300 years. You can take a look at a video made in 1989 (in German, you can select auto-translate subtitles), which shows toy-making in the town of Seiffen. In it, you can see the Füchtner workshop, and the pieces of the nutcrackers being turned.

I suppose this sort of toy is what comes to mind when we think of beautifully made, handcrafted toys, and when we conjure up images of magical toy shops, filled to the brim with music boxes and mechanical delights. In many ways, Santa’s workshop of modern Hollywood movies seems to be based on the Erzgebirge workshops.

I find this quite an interesting phenomenon – the way in which nostalgia works and is often literally crafted, and the way in which there is a Christmas of fantasy with specific imagery that has firmly established itself the world over, even in places where Christmas is not celebrated.

One thing I loved was the similarities between these toys and the Obake no Kinta of my third portrait -- down to toymakers in workshops handing down the secrets of their craft, from generation to generation. In the case of Atsuga Shinpachiro, he is a tenth-generation craftsman. Markus Füchtner, who currently heads the Füchtner workshop, is an eighth-generation toymaker in the Füchtner family, and the sixth generation to make these specific nutcrackers.

I thought about how there is something about fresh glossy enamel paint on toys that is particularly evocative and attractive. The colours seem so much more vibrant and alive, and are a feast for our eyes, especially in the darkness of winter.

I also thought a lot about imagery and excitement, and how we often whip ourselves up in anticipation of a sensory frenzy. My son recently turned eight, and in the morning of his birthday, he remarked – ‘I don’t quite understand, it’s quite strange, my body feels the same as any other day.’ I was reminded of this when I read one of the paragraphs at the beginning of the Hoffmann’s novella:

“Kind reader, or listener, whatever may be your name, whether Frank, Robert, Henry, – Anna or Maria, I beg you to call to mind the table covered with your last Christmas gifts, as in their newest gloss they first appeared to your delighted vision. You will then be able to imagine the astonishment of the children, as they stood with sparkling eyes, unable to utter a word, for joy at the sight before them.

[…] A tall Fir tree stood in the middle of the room, covered with gold and silver apples, while sugar almonds, comfits, lemon drops, and every kind of confectionery, hung like buds and blossoms upon all its branches.”

What imagery to live up to! For now, we’ll settle for a calmer, better year for all in 2022. Thank you for reading.