Spartacus

Leonid Yakobson’s Spartacus is arguably the most stunning and immense ballet production in the history of the Mariinsky Theatre in the 20th century. Loud, too, were the scandals even as the production was being rehearsed, when Yakobson cut and re-stitched the complete score by Aram Khachaturian, who objected to any amendments whatsoever. Differences in opinion between a choreographer and a composer come as no surprise in the theatre world, but for things to go as far as beatings (as they say the case was with Spartacus) and years-long quarrels is something of a rarity.
The production’s fame was tremendous. As work progressed, the Artistic Director of the Kirov Ballet Fyodor Lopukhov, who had invited Yakobson to stage Spartacus, gathered enthusiastic responses from dancers who had rehearsed the work in order to protect the ballet from the commissions which had to approve it, and when the time came for its fate to be decided he was armed with every written praise he could need. A rumour about the gripping plot spread like wild fire and Spartacus became one of the theatre’s most frequently attended productions – it was far from easy to get a ticket to see it. What was it that made balletomanes stand in queues at ticket offices on a shift system in order to ensure they had a seat?
In a classical dance theatre, Yakobson was the first to stage a ballet without pointes and with legs that were not turned out. This alone was enough to shock audiences: at the Kirov Theatre in the 1950s, the use of free plastique for an entire ballet was something beyond insanity (of Michel Fokine’s ballets, at the time only the classical Chopiniana was performed). Audiences were also intrigued by the grandiose spectacle. The production – with the scale of its historic plot, conceived as an Ancient fresco, with its massive crowd scenes, the huge number of characters, the corps de ballet and the extras – bore the secondary title of Scenes of Roman Life. The monumental four-act work brought to life the era, the life, the bloody battles of gladiators and the sensual bliss of patrician feasts. The multifaceted image of Rome was imprinted with an accent on the uprising of the slaves under the leadership of Spartacus and his routing by the warriors of Crassus. Imitating Ancient bas-reliefs, the choreographer embodied key episodes in the development of the plot in “living scenes”, static positions where the characters freeze during symphonic entre’actes between scenes. Inspired by the hautreliefs of the Pergamon Altar (when Spartacus was created this was still in the Hermitage) and referring to vase paintings, Ancient Roman images and sculpture, in dance Yakobson strived to recreate the spirit of the Ancient world. He was interested in the search for an individual dance language, unique to this ballet alone. The unexpected choreographic imagery, brought to life on-stage with the expressiveness of the poses and the “picturesque” precision of the gestures of the dazzling cast (Askold Makarov as Spartacus, Inna Zubkovskaya and Ninel Petrova as Phrygia and Alla Shelest as Aegina), conquered audiences. The adherents of classical dance voiced complaints that the ballet was not staged en pointe, that the plastique reproduction of images on Etruscan vases created the impression that the ballerinas were dancing “half-cocked”... Yakobson insistently demonstrated his right to his chosen method. He was convinced that the Ancient world, staged en pointe and depicted in “turned-out” classical dance, would be artificial. The choreographer held very dear his discoveries in plastique and the productions that did not have an easy stage life – he wrote a great deal about all this, parrying critics, emotionally and justifiably stating his right to the choices he had made.
Spartacus was in the repertoire for decades. First staged in 1956, it was initially revived in 1976 and again in 1985 and 2010. To this day it remains a testament to Leonid Yakobson – an inventive director and a subtle choreographic stylist who was able to stun the audience’s imagination with his monumental vision. Olga Makarova