On the other hand, human is not a word I’d use to describe the otherworldly Smirnova, whose exceptional instrument seems bred specifically for ballet—as if a swan queen had been crossed with a sylph in a lab. Her long thin legs tapered into extremely arched and winged feet. In the series of fast entrechat-quatres in Act II, she had just enough height to accommodate the intense torque required every time her feet left the floor, as her over-turnout and beveled ankles made for such a tremendous difference in angle between fifth position on the floor and fifth in the air.
Her arms, conversely, had no curves whatsoever. Her thin elbow and wrist joints stuck out like thorns on rose stems, and she turned in or broke the line of one joint or the other often for dramatic effect. She often splayed her twiglike fingers, even while her hands were pressed together in begging or prayer. Very often she flipped her hands to expose her palms and inner wrists, like broken bird wings—her way of broadcasting openness and vulnerability.
Smirnova’s elongated, swanny neck curved almost as pronouncedly as her feet, and she peered down at the ground through much of the ballet, from her opening ballottés to her second act adagio. She did not lift her head or glance up to the balconies even when she was hoisted on the shoulders of the villagers to be crowned harvest queen. This was a surprising display of interiority and humility, especially for a Bolshoi diva. I’ve seen many turn cool, abstract Balanchine poses into smiley picture calls. Smirnova’s inclined head did not appear to be a lordotic counterbalancing of spine and pelvis, either. It seemed to be an artistic choice. (Although it could also be partially an adjustment tactic from years of dancing on raked stages.)
Whatever the reasons for her Mannerist lines, nothing about Smirnova broadcast “country lass.” She looked like an alien species next to everyone else on the stage in Act I, save for the pedigreed pair of pale, slope-necked Borzois who accompanied the nobles’ hunting party. Instead of looking like a villager, Smirnova’s physique screamed Odette/Odile, and until Giselle’s mad scene I rather wished she was dancing “Swan Lake.” But at the end of Act I, when it was time for her heart to break and expire, the role of Giselle started to suit her.
What a fantastic description and compelling writing. Thank you!