Spartacus

Choreographer Lucas Jervies has spent years working on this world premiere of Spartacus, the latest iteration of Aram Khachaturian’s epic work. For The Australian Ballet, this piece has been spruiked far and wide as the jewel in the crown of this year’s season. Expectations are high for this production and the opportunity to see the Ballet’s male dancers featured.  The performance opens with Orchestra Victoria’s usual finesse and the overture lets us know we are entering a totalitarian regime.  Perhaps the hype was impossible to live up to, but what should have been a spectacular night of ballet was all just a little bit ho-hum.

The literal flag waving of the opening was an interesting choice, colour and movement for the masses. Jerome Kaplan’s brutalist, soaring grey walls immediately communicated the idea of the totalitarian regime, particularly with Benjamin Cistern’s stark white lighting. It brought to mind North Korea and the repugnant, lavish military displays all enacted whilst a starving populous watches on.  Ty Wall-King is truly majestic as Crassus portraying the air of arrogance of the returning consul with grace and athleticism. Senior Artist (now newly minted Principal, announce on the night) Amy Harris is gorgeous and as always flawless as Tertulla. If only you could see their feet as they danced. Sadly the slaves have entered and been positioned at the front of the stage, limiting the view of these wonderful dancers and disconnecting the audience from them.

Principal Artist Kevin Jackson plays Spartacus and has clearly spent a lot of time bulking up muscle mass for the role. This, sadly, was probably a mistake. Jackson is a magnificent dancer and excels at characterization, so one has to wonder why the additional bulk was really necessary.  This was the topic of conversation around the audience at the end of the first act. Jackson has clearly put his heart and soul into this role and it shows in his acting. This makes the choreographing of the fights of the gladiators even more disappointing. The amount of work put in to these sequences is evident but one has to wonder why Jervies and Fight Director Nigel Poulton felt the need to make these battles so much like mixed martial arts. Jackson is more than capable to tell us through ballet that he is fighting, the world does not need to be so literal. The athleticism is there but the dance is sorely lacking. When Jackson and Principal Robyn Hendricks get to dance together there is magic on the stage. Hendricks is glorious as Flavia, from beginning to end. We feel her panic, her love, her desperation and her resolve as we move from Act I to Act III.

The erotic opening of Act II, where the rich and powerful bathe in ‘marble’ bath tubs, being waited on by slaves should have been something spectacular, but here we are let down once again by the Corps. Synchronised movement should be just that, synchronized. It beggars belief that these professional dancers are so very often out of unison. There is a sloppiness in the Corp de Ballet which is quite frankly infuriating. This is an ongoing problem with The Australian Ballet and one that really is unforgivable. A ballet company cannot and should not continue to rely on their Principals, Senior Artists and Soloists to make up for the shortcomings of the Corp. There is tremendous talent in the Corp, but they need to get the basics right.

There are some questionable choices in the staging of Spartacus, not the least of which is the lengthy water-boarding of Crassus. The finale, however, is stunning. The entry of the blood-soaked rebels, each carrying their own plinth on which to be crucified is horrifyingly hypnotic. Jackson’s quiet portrayal of Spartacus’ death whilst Hendricks dances her grief and hope is spellbindingly beautiful. It just wasn’t enough.

L.B.Bermingham

Photographer: Jeff Busby