© John Ross Mikhailovsky 'Spartacus' reviews 'Spartacus' reviews Matvienko in reviews recent Mikhailovsky reviews more Graham Watts reviews Discuss this review (Open for at least 6 months) Gallery of Photographs

One has to acknowledge - and even commend - the sheer spectacle of this enormous enterprise. This, all thanks to the inspired largesse of the Mikhailovsky’s wealthy benefactor, Vladimir Kekhman (would that we could find one or two of his ilk to support British ballet, rather than Premiership football), who has ploughed countless millions of roubles into restoring both the beautiful home of this company in St Petersburg and its repertoire. The advance publicity boasted that the stage would be filled with 200 performers: I didn’t count them but I’d swear this was under-stated; the huge dancing ensemble was augmented by a roving choir of at least another 70.

The impact of everything is powerful. Khachaturian’s vigorous score is played with a strength and loudness to emphasise the machismo on stage; metal swords splay out sparks as the gladiators and centurions go for each other with such gusto that one suspects a few cuts and bruises were nursed the next day; and the crowd, so crucial to any portrayal of Rome, moves like a menacing, single organism, flowing across the stage. There is so much all-out, no holds-barred action that a little clumsiness was bound to slip in from time to time, but this is a small price to pay for such entertaining energy.

Denis Matvienko inhabits the role of ‘Spartacus’ in a way that’s well worthy of his great predecessors; not as large or dominant as Mukhamedov or Acosta, he creates the aura of power through a lean, athletic physique allied to a notable stage presence and striking, virtuoso dancing; as Sabina, Anastasia Matvienko was equally demanding on the eye, frequently kicking legs into effortless 6 o’clock arabesques, and overshadowing the traditional lead role of Valeria (Phyrgia in the Bolshoi’s version), which was prettily and unostentatiously danced by Irina Perren. As the anti-hero, Crassus, the exceptionally tall Marat Shemiunov went over-the-top with his crazed facial expressions and his orgiastic pas de deux with Anastasia Matvienko was remarkably acrobatic, but even he was outdone in the pastiche stakes by a puppet-like, comic performance by Andrei Bregvadze as the military leader, Pompeius.

Kovtun’s ‘Spartacus’ is so gigantic that it out-Bolshoi’s the Bolshoi and, to his credit, Kovtun’s libretto – though cluttered and confused in places – captures the flavour of Rome and the feel and energy of the circus in a Coliseum, effectively garnished with a Bacchanalian orgy or two. But, of course, it’s not the ‘Spartacus’ that London dance fans have grown fond of over the years – the Bolshoi’s Grigorovich calling card – and in terms of pure, neoclassical ballet and simple narrative, it doesn’t stand up to the comparison very well. But for spectacle and extreme entertainment, it would be very hard to beat. Take your pick!