The ballet Spartacus is nothing if not a spectacle. The enormous cast, the dramatic love story, the tragedy and Aram Khachaturian’s score are components enough. Give it a live orchestra, under the baton of Paul Connelly, the Hungarian National Ballet and a venue like the Hungarian State Opera House in Budapest and it’s difficult to imagine anything other than splendour.
László Seregi’s production is famous in Hungary and has been regularly and devotedly performed since 1968, when it premiered in the same year as Yuri Grigorovich’s version in Moscow. It’s an important success for Hungarians and they flock in their droves to see it. This revival was meaningful – the first since Covid. It provides tremendous roles for the leads and supporting soloists. It requires a huge corps de ballet to fill the stage and to create that awe-inspiring sense of watching an all consuming, historical epic.
I saw two different casts on the first day of this revival and the dancing throughout was admirable. There were hiccups, but the assurance and sincerity of the interpretations in the main, meant that a few rough edges did not matter. The two lead principals in both performances were breathtaking, both in technical achievement and in their powerful dramatic abilities.
The sets (Forray Gábor) and costumes (Márk Tivadar) contribute to the sheer magnitude of the ballet, as well as being multi-functional. The scenes are easily understood and there is a great deal of attention to historical accuracy, as much as is possible. The first (and longest) act tells of Spartacus and his fellow slaves/gladiators and their realisation that the Romans are not only unfair rulers but unilaterally cruel and barbaric. Thus ensues a rebellion, led by Spartacus, a truly heroic character who does not deserve his tragic demise. The ballet begins with his death and the story unfolds in a series of flashbacks.
Seregi started his career as a folk dancer and this is evidenced in many of the ensemble scenes, yet the pas de deux contain some of the most difficult lifts in the ballet vocabulary. The ‘dead’ lifts require Herculean strength and a tremendous rapport between the partners, and when it works (and it did at both performances), it creates a sense of extreme passion, daring and the wow factor.
The most exciting scenes are when the slaves are leaping at full-throttle en masse, testosterone fuelled, and almost overwhelmingly energetic. While it’s difficult to fault the attack and presentation of the cast throughout, the production is not without flaws.
Raffaello Barbieri at the matinee and Takaaki Okajima in the evening (both good dancers), were required to wear Blackface as The African. This made me hugely uncomfortable and would have been unacceptable in the UK. I also found the exploitation of the female cast, dancing sexually overt sequences, sometimes in just a bikini, for the direct pleasure of the male onlookers, very disturbing. While I appreciate this may have been a depiction of behaviours in 74 BC, it felt very much as if this 1968 version needed a rethink.
As Crassus, a Roman general, Dmitry Timofeev in the afternoon and Taran Dumitru in the evening, both had the right bearing for the role. Timofeev fared better technically – Dumitru appeared to be having problems with some of the difficult tours en l'air, though he recovered well. As the objects of his desire, Julia and Claudia, both casts were on top form. Jessica Carulla Leon and Claudia García Carriera as the former managed to retain their composure even when the mood was distinctly salacious. As Claudia, Miyu Takamori and Lili Felméry tackled the challenging solo with aplomb. György Szirb was a chilling Batiatus, owner of the gladiatorial school, with a strong stage presence.
The focus is very much on the central couple and their love story and in spite of some extraordinary dancing in the previous acts, the third act pas de deux is the climax of the ballet and stays with us long after curtain down. It is to be the final meeting of Spartacus and his wife, Flavia. He knows he is doomed and the desperation, the ardour, is tangible.
Both couples, Iurii Kekalo and Maria Yakovleva in the afternoon and Gergely Leblanc and Tatyjana Melnyik in the evening, appeared to have genuine chemistry and in terms of the gargantuan task of getting through the marathon of dancing, they were nothing short of sensational. Each of them bringing absolute commitment and sincerity to their storytelling made it impossible to avoid feeling deeply moved.
A word about the Hungarian State Opera Orchestra. Spartacus would not be as memorable as it is without the music and the orchestra sounds thrilling. The percussion, the timpani, literally raised the temperature. No wonder the audience were on their feet at the end.
Deborah's trip was funded by Hungarian National Ballet
