Once a year, the Mariinsky presents Jakobson’s “Spartacus” which now holds extra weight since new director Andrian Fadeev ran the Jakobson troupe for more than a decade. While the Mariinsky repertoire doesn’t actively perform other Jakobson works –that’s left to the Jakobson troupe itself when they appear on the Mariinsky stage— this production is a stable feature of the permanent repertoire that nonetheless appears only about once per season.
This year’s mid-May run featured four performances back-to-back in the new pseudo-block format adopted by the theatre of late. The opening scene welcoming formations of legionnaires returning home from battle offers an ongoing parade of Roman warriors in battle gear, cheered on as their swords and shields are raised aloft. Roman crowd fills every bit of the stage, giving the sensation of a well-populated nation. Against the backdrop of Adam Khachaturian’s celebratory introductory notes expertly led by conductor Vladislav Karklin, the initial atmosphere encompasses pride and triumph.
On May 17th, Maria Bulanova, the resident allegro soloist endowed with tireless jumps and turns, embodied a secretive, malicious Aegina alongside the regal presence of Nikolai Naumov, easily the most handsome Crassus at the Mariinsky. As she schemed, he observed coolly, a thumbs up or down determining the fate of more than one slave or warrior. While Bulanova’s Aegina lost herself in a drunken dance, Naumov sculpted the pantomime such that even static gestures held majesty. The complicity of this power couple easy overshadowed the tender love expressed by Nikita 
Korneev’s Spartacus in his duet sequences alongside Valeria Kuznetsova as a modest, sometimes fearful Frigia. Adorned with a sultry 5 o’clock shadow, Korneev (in an unannounced debut on this day) was a dashing hero-warrior particularly adept in the harsh fighting scenes, but a hero with a soft heart. His duet work with Kuznetsova was lyrical and romantic, further underscoring the contrast between Spartacus’ humane love and the resolute collusion of Aegina and Crassus, intent on destroying anyone who threatened their temporary kingdom of glory.
The Apollonian stature and looks of Anton Oestrov suited him perfectly in his debut as Garmodia, where his dramatic expression achieved a degree of depth and breadth that sometimes even more experienced dancers cannot manage. He seemed truly taken with Bulanova’s Aegina, drawn completely into her alluring web of deceit, and shocked at the final revelation of his impending death.
Of particular note: the borderline-risky Estruscean dance by Maya Palilionis, Khalid Mardini and Danil Zinoviev, all debuting in this section together, provided intrigue and intricate configurations. Their electricity, synchronicity and animal-like interplay proved entertainment for both the onstage viewers and the audience. Albina Satinalieva, a highly talented character dancer, led the solo in the Gaditanian virgins dance, a seductive hip-moving section that draws on much too long but, one is told, is intended for the men in the audience.
This “Spartacus” does not hold the virtuous choreographic heights of the version created by the now late (as of publication) and great Yuri Grigorovich. But the Jakobson version pulls every spectator into Ancient Rome for three hours of excitement, grief and virtue. In that, it succeeds.
Top and bottom photos of Nikita Korneev, and Korneev with Valeria Kuznetsova, both by Natasha Razina for the Mariinsky Theatre (c) 2025, center photo of Nikolai Naumov by Mikhail Vilchuk for the Mariinsky Theatre (c) 2025.