Dear Friends,

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My journey in ballet began in a stairwell. I was standing there next to my mother when she told me John Whitehead had cast me as Nicholas in Carolina Ballet's Nutcracker at Township Auditorium. There are only a few moments in your life you remember with total clarity — this is one of mine. I was just a kid, one of dozens who would step onto that big stage beside Russian guest artists. But something shifted in that stairwell. I'd been handed a chance to step into something bigger than myself, something that felt like it carried real weight.

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That small role as Nicholas ended up opening doors I never expected — all the way from Columbia to the Mariinsky Theatre, where I would eventually dance as a principal in the birthplace of classical ballet. And now, through the vision of our Board Chairman, Lee Lumpkin, I'm home again as Artistic Director of Columbia Classical Ballet. Lee has been a pillar of this community's dance world for decades, and when she invited me back, she said something simple and direct: build something that doesn't fit neatly into categories. Build something Columbia actually needs.

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This Nutcracker is the start of that vision — not the finish line. Just the first steps on a path we're taking together.

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The Ballet IS the Tree

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In 1954, George Balanchine — who began his own training at the Mariinsky before reimagining ballet in America — put more than 100 children onstage alongside New York City Ballet's leading professionals in his new Nutcracker. He'd learned something decades earlier when he choreographed for a group of teenage dancers who became known as the "Baby Ballerinas" — Irina Baronova at 13, Tamara Toumanova at 14, Tatiana Riabouchinska at 15. They didn't become international stars in spite of their youth. They became stars because of it. They brought fearlessness, curiosity, and that unfiltered belief that impossible things aren't actually impossible.

When City Center's chairman saw that Balanchine had spent $25,000 on a single Christmas tree and demanded it be removed, Balanchine answered with four words that changed everything: "The ballet IS the tree."

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It wasn't just a prop. That tree was the whole point — aspiration itself. Every dancer becomes an ornament with their own light, their own story, all part of one shared upward reach toward the angel at the top. None of us ever reach the angel. But that's why we keep reaching.

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And here's what Balanchine understood: a tree needs both the ornaments and the people who gather around it. The dancers shine from the branches; the audience gathers below. Together, they create the magic. The ballet IS the tree because it's where we come together, where individual sparkle becomes a shared sense of wonder.

I see that same truth when I watch my daughter Summer light up as dancers leap across our studio. That instinct — recognizing beauty before you even know how to name it — is how humans connect to dance. Not because it's "accessible" or "educational," but because it hits something deeper and older inside us.

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Our Company Today

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Look at our stage. Our company members — artists from right here in this community who've chosen to help build something new in Columbia — dance alongside a dancer from the Mariinsky Theatre who left Russia to join us permanently. Our rehearsal director also comes from the Mariinsky, someone who worked with me there and believed in this vision enough to reshape their entire life for it. These aren't guest artists passing through. They're now part of Columbia's artistic foundation. Add to this our guest artists from American Ballet Theatre, and you see something unprecedented: world-class artists choosing Columbia, building something that didn't exist before.

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And this is how ballet truly grows — not from marketing plans or outreach slogans, but from young people feeling that spark, realizing they can reach for something bigger than themselves. Their passion pulls their parents along. Their parents share that awe with other families. The circle expands because energy spreads.

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The Space Between

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Some people prefer clear categories — professional companies here, student companies there. But I learned as Nicholas at Township Auditorium that the real transformation happens in the space between. In that moment when a young dancer realizes they're capable of more than they believed. That's the territory Columbia Classical Ballet claims.

We're not a strictly professional company or a student one. We're something more essential: we're what ballet looks like when it's taking root in a community. We honor that powerful middle ground Balanchine discovered — where young dancers and seasoned professionals create magic side by side.

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My own path proves what can happen. A boy playing Nicholas in Columbia can grow up to dance principal roles at the Mariinsky. But the more important truth is this: that same dancer can come back home and help the next generation experience that same shift.

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Our Promise

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We don't drag ballet down to meet people. We invite people to rise to meet ballet. We don't water down the art to make it more "accessible." We ask our community to reach with us, knowing joy isn't found in achieving perfection — which none of us ever will — but in the reaching itself.

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Every young dancer performing will carry this moment for the rest of their lives. Many in our audience once stood exactly where these children stand now. Some of these young dancers may one day travel the world, as I did, following paths entirely their own.

This is Columbia Classical Ballet's promise: to be the tree Balanchine envisioned — a place where every dancer is both an ornament and an aspiration, where our whole community learns what it means to reach for something higher. We bring together the deep traditions of the Mariinsky and the limitless potential of Columbia's young artists.

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Welcome to our Nutcracker — where every performance is both an ending and a beginning, where students become professionals, where families become audiences, where Columbia learns what it means to reach toward something timeless together.

This isn't just a ballet. It's a revolution disguised as tradition. This is Columbia Classical Ballet.

Thank you for reaching with us.

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With gratitude and joy,

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Joseph Phillips
Artistic Director
Columbia Classical Ballet