Composer, Callum Patrick Hughes, reflects on reimagining a timeless score through traditional English folk, the spirit of collaboration, and the magic of a Christmas show made for grown-ups of all ages.
What first inspired your approach to composing the music for The Nutcracker?
I’ve always loved the tension between the grand, glittering orchestral world of The Nutcracker ballet and the earthy, communal energy of folk music.
When Taunton Brewhouse approached me about a new version, I thought: what if The Nutcracker wasn’t about opulence and orchestras, but about people? About a group of musicians in a room, telling a story together the way you might in a country pub… a few guitars, a mandolin, harmonica, maybe a penny whistle or two? That felt like a proper starting point: a Nutcracker that lives in the same space as its audience, not in a snow globe behind glass.
How did you weave folk influences with the echoes of Tchaikovsky’s timeless score?
At first I wasn’t sure I’d draw any influences from Tchaikovsky – but as is so often the case with music – I found that there was a lot of cross over between the two genres! Instead of discarding Tchaikovsky, I treated his work like a set of traditional tunes that have been passed down and reinterpreted over time.
Sometimes you’ll hear a familiar phrase from the original — but played on a different instrument, or hummed by the company as they move through a scene. The recognisable melodies are still there, but they’ve been filtered through the textures of a kitchen ceilidh – rather than a concert hall. It’s a conversation between the two worlds, and I think that’s where the magic happens.
Were there particular instruments, motifs, or themes that became central to your version?
Guitar and Mandolin are central to everything in this score – which is a lot humbler than an entire orchestra pit to say the least! But it has much more charm in my opinion. When you compose with a guitar rather than a piano – there’s a much more human quality to the sound. It feels lived-in, imperfect, and warm. Around that, there’s a core of flutes, clarinets, accordion, harmonica and percussion which drives the music forward.
Each character has their own themes, motifs and phrases that are used to evoke different feelings and perspectives on the action. If done properly – an audience might not even notice why they are empathizing with a particular character – but if you listen closely – the music often gives you a clue!
How does live music enhance the storytelling and atmosphere of this production?
Live music is everything to me. It gives the show breath and rhythm. Real musicians are reacting to that’s happening in the moment. If an actor pauses, the fiddle can hold a note; if a scene bursts into chaos, the rhythm can follow. It also brings the audience into the experience. They can see the music being made and see if unfold in front of them. That’s part of the theatricality for me. It’s not just background; it’s the heartbeat of the show.
What was your collaboration process like with Sasha and the creative team?
Sasha’s brilliant. She has this knack for finding the story underneath the story — the version that belongs to now. From our first conversation, it was clear that this wasn’t about nostalgia or spectacle; it was about energy, humour, and community.
Our process has been really collaborative — ideas bouncing between music, movement, and design. I’d bring in a tune, Sasha would see how it moved, and we’d adjust it together. It’s the kind of room where everyone’s ideas are welcome, which makes for a show that feels alive and made by many hands.
Are there any moments in the show you’re excited for audiences to hear?
There’s a point near the end where the whole company sings together. No fancy arrangement, just human voices in harmony. It’s one of those moments that reminds you why live theatre is special. It’s simple and communal, and it sounds like Christmas should: warm, a bit rough around the edges, but full of heart.
What do you hope audiences will take away from the music as they leave the theatre?
I hope they leave feeling like they’ve been part of something. Christmas shows are often thought of as being for kids, but I think the best ones are for grown-ups too — they tap into something shared, something honest and joyful. If people walk out humming a tune, or feeling a bit more connected to each other, that’s enough for me. That’s the job done.
The Nutcracker runs until Sunday 28 December. Don’t miss out!
Photography by Jack Offord
