In a recent conversation, producer Yana Rudkovskaya shared a light moment about her son Alexander adopting a new stage name. The family affectionately calls the boy, now ten years old, Krab Krabych. The nickname grew from a playful moment when he portrayed Sebastian the crab in Evgeni Plushenko’s production of The Little Mermaid, a performance that delighted the audience and left a lasting memory for the family.
Rudkovskaya notes that after stepping into roles such as the princes in The Nutcracker and Swan Lake, Alexander did not intend to stay tied to the crab persona forever. Yet his response to the nickname was warm and humorous. Viewers and fans continue to enjoy his performances, and the energy he brings to the stage seems to resonate with audiences watching him grow as a performer.
Another common nickname within the family is Gnome Gnomych. This endearing label originated at the time of his birth in the maternity hospital when Alexander weighed 2.8 kilograms. The family recalls a playful remark that he resembled a tiny dwarf, a memory that endures as a term of endearment and a sign of the family’s close, affectionate bond.
As is often the case with young talents in the public eye, discussions about his development include some criticism. Critics have argued that the child’s routines and public exposure amount to a loss of childhood. Rudkovskaya responds by saying Alexander makes his own choices about his activities and does not feel pressured by those around him. She emphasizes that he genuinely enjoys skating and that the life he is shaping reflects his own interests and happiness rather than coercion. This stance underscores the importance of autonomy in a young artist’s journey and the role of guardians in guiding that path with care.
Beyond the personal sphere, conversations about earnings and professional progression frequently accompany discussions about young talents. In this context, Sergei Orlov has spoken about the financial side of performances, sharing insights into the earnings generated by a single concert. Such disclosures contribute to a broader dialogue about the economics of childhood fame and the responsibilities of guardians and mentors in navigating this landscape. The aim is to foster transparency while protecting the child’s well‑being and long‑term development as an artist.
Overall, the story of Alexander and his evolving public persona reveals a blend of playful identity, parental guidance, and the realities of performing arts where a child can grow up in front of an audience while preserving a sense of personal choice and joy. The surrounding dialogue reflects a community watching with interest as a young artist explores different facets of creativity, all while balancing the desires of a family that supports him and the expectations of a public that follows his journey with curiosity. The narrative underscores that, at its core, creative growth can coexist with childhood, provided the environment remains supportive and the child’s welfare stays central to every decision. Such a balance is a common thread in discussions about early public careers and the way families navigate fame together, with attention to the future and the happiness of the child as the guiding principle.