If The Sleeping Beauty is the work that shows the quality of a classical company’s technique, Giselle is the ballet that reveals how much dramatic power it can put on the stage. The Siberians came up with a moving, and also technically excellent performance.

This is a timeless story of a rich man, already engaged to be married, who flirts with a village girl who falls madly in love with him. When his deceit is revealed she goes mad and dies of a heart attack.

The role of Giselle is considered the greatest dramatic test for a ballerina, who has to develop from enchanted ingénue, through a long scene in which she is completely demented, to become the spirit ‘Wili’ of the second act, where she rises from the grave to forgive her treacherous lover, and to save him.

I have admired Maria Kuimova (wrongly billed as Anna Aulle on Monday’s opening night) for some years now, but had never seen her Giselle. She did not disappoint.

Her shy, intoxicated village girl is as light physically as she is fragile mentally. She can hardly believe that this great love for a stranger has come to her, and, when she knows the truth, her mad scene is riveting and forceful — one of the best I have seen.

As a Wili she floats through the demanding choreography, always with a beautiful line, and exudes a mature forgiveness.

Count Albrecht was Kirill Litvinenko (not Dmitri Sobolevsky) who dances and acts very well, particularly in the second act. Here the choice of black tights, in the gloom of the moonlit forest, makes it hard to see his beautiful beats and terrific elevation. Most Albrechts wear white tights; the Kirov’s great Yuri Soloviev used to wear mauve, but black does not work.

I can’t keep correcting the cast list, so I will just say that I liked the character of Hans (Hilarion in most productions), the woodsman who, in this production, is clearly the right man for Giselle. He loves her deeply, but it is his exposure of Albrecht’s true identity that precipitates the tragedy. He is often played as a rough peasant, but here we had a handsome young man who has been greatly wronged.

The Queen of the Wilis, who has a very long solo to open the second act, dances with a lot of style. Less regal and austere than many in this role, she conveys the sadness of a spirit who yearns for happier existence than dancing men to death.