The Mariinsky’s 244th season began with gusto this fall, bringing with it the usual classical repertoire, including three performances of the full-length “Paquita” and a series of debuts in October. Rioma Gudzeleu debuted in “Romeo and Juliet” alongside Maria Shirinkina to warm reviews from local viewers, following which Valeria Kuznetsova debuted as Juliet alongside Minchul Jeon. The latter couple, an essay in legato beauty, set a high standard for future newcomers.
Those performances preceded the long-awaited double debut of the most newsworthy couple in the company of late: Yana Peneva and Alexei Orokhovsky, graduates of the John Cranko School in Stuttgart, medalists in both YAGP and this year’s Moscow Ballet Competition, and now first soloists with the Mariinsky. Peneva and Orokhovsky performed their first “Giselle” together on October 30th.
The duo, who are a romantic couple offstage, brought the depth of their connection to these roles, infusing them with a palpable sense of real love and, in Act 2, spiritual union. Whereas some pairs go through the proverbial gestures of love and loss, heartfelt true emotion prevailed here. But moreover, the power of their dancing comes in the nuanced interpretation of their characters. For Orokhovsky, Albrecht truly loves Giselle. This adds numerous layers of depth to their version and is key to watching it. This isn’t a couple who go through the motions. This is a pair who feel the emotions to the bone, and etch them into every possible dramatic moment on stage.
As one example of detail, Peneva’s mad scene begins dreamy and quickly shifts to the frantic repetition of picking flower petals in a mixture of anger and disgust, precisely what results from the discovery of betrayal. Most Giselles perform this gesture absentmindedly, recalling the past. Peneva’s Giselle, while losing her mind, is still half present, her current emotions flooding the past physical memory. This shift in dramatic coloring adds a layer to her depiction that proves highly effective in explaining how events have ruptured this ideal love and lead to her death. In Act 2 she becomes an ethereal sylph, but one who is still in love with Albrecht, a cloak of forgiveness filling her gestures which beg Myrtha for mercy.
Orokhovsky’s characterization is just as detailed. Born and raised in the heart of America, grew up in his family’s ballet studio, practicing, copying, studying and learning on his own until his parents allowed him to begin formal training. The depth of his talent is a unique formula that’s nearly impossible to reproduce organically: the circumstance of his lineage, years of hard work, the right physique, and yes, a rare measure of wisdom. At all of 20 years old, he offers a rendition of Albrecht that many of his much older peers cannot offer. His nuanced characterization left no detail in the mis-en-scenes undeveloped. Based on his belief that Albrecht truly loved Giselle and had no intent to deceive her, Orokhovsky spends Act 1 proving that through his gestures. When they meet, he raises a hand to his head implying how overcome with joy he is. During the Act 1 dancing, he stands, lovestruck and smiling, his face to the audience. When Peneva suddenly starts to faint, he not only catches her but kneels before her, looking up, subservient and fully devoted. When the mad scene begins he stands at the side of the stage, but looks concerningly at his expert Squire, Alexei Nedvega, who has performed this role with Russian stars such as Diana Vishneva on film. Nedvega shakes his head, indicating there is nothing they can do at this point. Based on his character, it, then follows that if Albrecht truly loves Giselle, Orokhovsky would be moved to tears –and literally, he was– and visibly shaken at her death in Act 1. In the heat of the moment he (temporarily) blames Hilarion of course, at which point Nedvega uses his full body weight to restrain him from stabbing Hilarion. It is Nedvega too who ultimately pulls Orokhovsky away from Giselle’s body in the final moments of Act 1, but this Albrecht turns back three times, trying to look at her, before ultimately fleeing. These details are not present in other dancers’ characterizations.
The Orokhovsky-Peneva pair carries electricity with them onstage. It is enough for Orokhovsky and Peneva to simply gaze into each others eyes and we are suddenly witnessing private love story: the chemistry is galvanic and the magnetism between them practically visible. It is this link that is ruptured at the end of Act 1, theoretically. But practically, and spiritually, their dancing in Act 2 proves that the union has not vanished, but simply transformed.
Act 2 of this ballet brings with it a series of challenges. At the start of their duet, the couple chose to perform the angel lift, where Giselle’s legs form a double coup-de-pied as Albrecht holds her over directly overhead (or, as it’s called in Russia, the lastochka lift). They repeat it twice, and did so with smooth grace. The partnering sections revealed effortless finesse that reflect hours of rehearsal time. Their respective variations also impressed in their virtuosity. Peneva is a natural turner, and here she revealed a new talent in her series of slow, high sautés and entrechat quatres, seemingly elevating off the floor without any visible propelling, feather light and ethereal. Her every interaction with Albrecht served as a protective expression of her literally undying love for him: from the gesture with which she begs Myrtha for mercy, to the airy embrace as she is pulled slowly back to her grave, Peneva demonstrated phantom-like elusiveness alongside the eternity of real love. In fact, while her ghostly body descends into the ground, it is her hands, reaching upwards to Albrecht, that remain with him until the very last moment. This is a love that will not let go.
Orokhovsky executed double cabrioles with a sweeping backbend during his variation, lending the diagonal a sense of amplitude and flexibility that not every Albrecht offers. For the coda, 24 entrechat six showed his technical prowess and simultaneously, the scope of Myrtha’s power over mortals. In a quick pre-performance interview, Orokhovsky explained he had pondered at length whether to do the typical brisé diagonal or entrechat six, and chose the latter. For any naysayers, it’s safe to conclude the choice more clearly displays Albrecht’s exhaustion and Myrtha’s winning stance in the spiritual battle that is Act 2. It underscores the well-known purpose of Act 2’s extensive dancing: the attempt to kill Albrecht as revenge for Giselle’s death.
Orokhovsky’s acting again added a special nuance when he approached Myrtha, and rubbed his shoulders, shivering in reaction to the cold chill of death she emitted. This detailed shading, not done by other dancers, underscores the dancer’s intent to show the audience the full range of his world. Several “popular” Russian bloggers suggested his character was underdeveloped and insufficiently noble. It should be remembered that this role has been scrupulously developed, from technique, to acting and staging, along with his coach and even the director of the troupe. So Vaganova Today disagrees with that popular assessment. A close reading of his dramatic text shows that Orokhovsky infused the mis-en-scenes with detail at every turn, carefully considering the meaning and message Albrecht gives to his fellow performers and to the audience. That’s not the result of an inexperienced, young dancer. It’s an intellectual approach, a highly Petersburgian one at that, to this historical classical ballet. Whether or not every viewer felt the deep emotion Orokhovsky and Peneva emitted on stage in this double debut depends entirely on the capacity of the viewer. These dancers displayed talent, technique and expressed a range of dramatic output, spanning love and affection, loss and remorse, grief and forgiveness.
A handful of other performers deserve equal recognition. Veselisa Alieva performed Myrtha with skimming bourrées, soaring jumps that travelled across the stage, and a stern demeanor. Her Myrtha did not flinch or weaken while attempting to do away with Albrecht in the overnight battle. Camila Mazzi and Daria Kulikova, performed her two assistants, Moyna and Zulma with lyricism and cool grace. As Hilarion, the sadly forgotten “good guy” in the libretto, Nail Harnasov performed a persuasively humble, offended, honest peasant trying to win Giselle back. The exhausting and technically challenging peasant pas de deux was met with easy displays by Maxim Izmestiev, a natural jumper who excels in this role, alongside the sprightly Polina Parfenova. Veteran Valery Ovsyannikov led the impeccably melodious Mariinsky orchestra.