
Anton
Chekhov & Olga Knipper
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Channeling Chekhov
Ryan McKittrick
talks to A.R.T. Artistic Director Robert
Brustein, adaptor of Three
Farces and a Funeral.
Ryan McKittrick: With
translations of Chekhov's farces already available, why did
you decide to make your own adaptation for this
production?
Robert Brustein: Yuri
Yeremin and I wanted to find some way
to adapt the farces to Chekhov's life. We had chosen three farces that
had to do with proposals and a wedding, and we needed to find a way to
unify these plays in both style and theme. So I decided to link the farces
together with Chekhov's letters to Olga Knipper, which I crafted into
short scenes and placed between the farces. The letters show the evolution
of their relationship, its coming to a proposal and, ultimately, to a
wedding, albeit quite a different wedding from the one in the play. I
then linked the farces to Chekhov's death with Chekhov on
Ice, a short play I'd written for the Boston Playwright's Marathon
last year. Paul
Schmidt's translations of Chekhov's plays
are wonderful, but we needed to be much looser with the material in order
to create some formal unity for it.
RM: How would you place the
vaudevilles in Chekhov's development as a writer?
RB: He wrote a lot of vaudevilles, both
as short stories and plays. They were all dry runs for the vaudevillian
characters he introduced into his major plays. Chekhov always meant his
plays to be funny. The Cherry Orchard, for example, is virtually
a vaudeville. There are a number of major clowns in that play: Yepikhodov,
Yasha, Pishchik. And I think The Wedding is a rehearsal for the
second act of Ivanov.
In both, Chekhov uses an impressionistic style to depict a social organism,
picking up conversations here and there, moving in and out of focus.
RM: How would you describe
the spirit of these vaudevilles?
RB: I think there's a lot of
pain underneath the lightness. I invented a line for Chekhov
in one of the interludes in which he defends his use of
farce. He says, "Farce is an explosion of pain in comic
form." I think that Chekhov might have described farce in
the same way.
RM: What do the farces
reveal about Chekhov's attitude towards marriage?
RB: He was frightened of marriage his whole
life. In one of the connecting interludes, I have Olga comment on the
fact that relationships between the sexes seem to be a source of strife
for Chekhov. In the farces, sexual relationships are all arguments and
battles - comic versions of Strindberg. In his new biography, Donald Rayfield
makes Chekhov out to be a rather cold person in regard to the demands
women made on him. But what Rayfield views as frigidity, I see as Chekhov's
attempt to escape responsibilities. He's running like Jack Tanner in Man
and Superman.
RM: What scared him so
much?
RB: It may have been his own
parents' marriage, or the rather unhappy marriages he saw in
his extended family. Perhaps he simply thought his life was
busy enough. Maybe he was too taken up with medicine and
literature to devote himself to a wife and children.
RM: Is there conflict in the
correspondence of Anton and Olga?
RB: Chekhov was always
fleeing from strife and confrontation. But there is tension
in the letters. For example, there was a lot of disagreement
about whether Olga should come to Yalta or Chekhov should go
to Moscow. He was of course too sick with tuberculosis to go
to Moscow. Olga refused to acknowledge that until the end,
when she rushed to Germany to nurse him. But these
separations were a source of tension. There was also
jealousy in their relationship. At one point, Olga rushed
down to Yalta, even though she only had a weekend and
Chekhov had asked her not to come for such a short time. On
her way back to Moscow from Yalta, she wrote to Chekhov that
she was in an "interesting condition." She wanted him to
believe she had become pregnant over the weekend. In the
end, she miscarried. But there was some question as to who
the real father would have been.
RM: Why do you think Yuri
Yeremin is the ideal director for this
project?
RB: We went through a number of possibilities
when we were looking for a project for Yuri. I always thought he would
be a great Gogol director. But then I recalled the joy I had felt in watching
Yuri's Institute
productions of The Bear, The Proposal, The Seagull,
and Uncle Vanya. There's no question that Yuri is a
great Chekhov director. He creates spectacular images, especially at the
end of the play. I'll never forget the ending of his Uncle Vanya,
in which all the actors started dancing with each other. It was very moving
both as a moment of reconciliation and as a meta-theatrical device. Yuri
also found a stunning final image for my play Nobody
Dies on Friday, which he recently
directed at the Pushkin Theatre in Moscow. In the final moment, all the
characters stood upstage against a mirror holding hands, achieving a moment
of reconciliation and grace after fighting throughout the entire play.
Yuri preeminently has a capacity to get at the soul of a play. He doesn't
adhere to the letter, he looks for the spirit. He did that with Ivanov
so brilliantly. That persuades me that he is an ideal director for the
A.R.T., where we're always trying to get a fresh look at a play instead
of being bound by tradition.
Ryan McKittrick is a recent graduate of the A.R.T./MXAT Institute dramaturgy program.
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