Mariinsky Theatre

Stand on Theatre Square for a moment and listen. Trams rattle past, the Kryukov Canal moves slowly behind you, and somewhere a pigeon lands on wet cobbles. In front of you rises a long, low building painted a soft sea green, trimmed in white. It does not tower over the square. It waits. This is the Mariinsky Theatre, and for more than a century and a half, some of the most important music and dance in the world has started here.

The theatre opened in 1860. It was named after Empress Maria Alexandrovna, the wife of Tsar Alexander the Second. That is where the name comes from — Mariinsky simply means 'of Maria'. Here is something many visitors miss. The building did not start from nothing. It stands on the site of an earlier theatre and circus that burned down shortly before. The architect, Albert Cavos, reused that ground and gave the city a new house for opera and ballet.

Look at the facade again. The green colour is not original to every era, and the exterior you see today came from later remodelling in the late nineteenth century. Notice how plain the outside feels compared with the palaces of this city. There are no golden domes and no grand staircases spilling into the street. That modesty is part of the surprise. The real show is kept inside, the way a jewellery box looks simple until you open the lid.

Inside, the historic auditorium is shaped like a horseshoe. This was the classic form for European opera houses of the time. The seats curve around the stage in tiers, so the audience can see each other almost as well as they see the performers. The colours are pale blue and gold. Blue velvet covers the seats and boxes. Gilded carving runs along every balcony. Above it all hangs a large crystal chandelier that glows before the lights go down.

The curtain is worth a special moment. Before many performances, the audience faces a heavy painted curtain from the early twentieth century, rich with folds, tassels, and decoration. People often photograph it before anything has even started. When it rises, the hall goes quiet in a way that feels almost physical. You can hear fabric shift and programmes close. Then the orchestra begins, from a pit just below the edge of the stage.

Now for the music. The late nineteenth century was a golden period for this stage. Tchaikovsky's ballet The Sleeping Beauty had its first performance here in 1890. Two years later, in 1892, The Nutcracker premiered on this same stage. Think about that. A ballet now danced every winter in thousands of theatres around the world was first seen by an audience sitting where you might sit tonight.

Much of that ballet history connects to one man, Marius Petipa. He was a French dancer and choreographer who came to Russia and stayed for decades. His work shaped what most people still picture when they hear the words 'classical ballet' — the strict lines, the large group scenes, the solo variations. The version of Swan Lake that most companies dance today grew from a production staged here in the 1890s by Petipa and his colleague Lev Ivanov.

Opera matters here just as much as dance. Mussorgsky's opera Boris Godunov, a dark story about a Russian tsar and his guilt, had its premiere at the Mariinsky in 1874. Many Russian composers saw their work staged on this stage. For that reason, the theatre is not only a place for visiting performers. For generations it was where Russian music was tested, argued about, and finally accepted.

The twentieth century brought a new name. In 1935, Soviet authorities renamed the building the Kirov Theatre, after Sergei Kirov, a Communist Party leader in Leningrad who had been assassinated the year before. For decades, the ballet company toured abroad as the Kirov Ballet. Many older balletgoers in Europe and America still use that name. The original name, Mariinsky, returned in the early 1990s, after the end of the Soviet Union.

The dancers trained for this stage became famous far beyond it. Anna Pavlova and Vaslav Nijinsky danced here early in their careers. Later came Rudolf Nureyev, who stayed in the West during a tour in 1961, and Mikhail Baryshnikov, who also left the Soviet Union in the 1970s. Each of them carried the habits and training of this house to stages around the world. In a quiet way, this building helped teach the world how to dance.

Now turn around and look across the canal. That large modern building of glass and pale stone is the second Mariinsky stage, which opened in 2013. It is linked to the historic theatre by a footbridge over the water. Its style is very different, and its arrival caused real debate in a city that guards its skyline carefully. The company also has a concert hall nearby, opened in the 2000s. Together, these buildings make one large cultural campus.

The square around you deserves attention too. Directly opposite the theatre stands the Saint Petersburg Conservatory, one of the oldest music schools in Russia. Tchaikovsky himself studied there. Students cross this square every day with instrument cases on their backs. In the evening, the cafes along the canal fill with people in good coats, waiting for the doors to open. This square has been the city's music quarter for a very long time.

Before you move on, take one more look at the green facade. Notice the windows and the white columns, and think about the people who have walked through those doors over many years — emperors, Soviet officials, students on cheap tickets, tourists like you. Listen to the canal and the trams again. Somewhere inside, a rehearsal may be running right now. When you walk away, you may hear a few notes of Tchaikovsky in your head. Let them stay.