Thursday, October 1, 2009

Here I sit in front of my own computer and keyboard. After much struggling and sotto voce swearing, well some of it not quite so sotto voce, Chris managed to marry the machine to the screen and connect up to the internet except that it still won’t accept or send emails. That still has to be sorted. Before I could do anything this morning (I did say I am a complete ignoramus as far as modern technology is concerned) I had to call him because a couple of strange notices came up about neither of which did I have a clue. What a strange sentence. Two blogs already written that should have been sent out on the 24th and 26th have disappeared into the great blue yonder and I no longer have any idea what I wrote – possibly a rant or two! Anyway, while I sat here, as Chris went about rectifying problems, I picked up the programme of the UNCLE VANYA I directed at James Madison University all of twenty years ago. I only picked it up because it was within reach at the top of a box of American ephemera so I thought this morning instead of coming up with something fresh I would use my Director’s Notes as today’s Blog, so here goes – Strindberg, Ibsen, Chekhov, three giants of nineteenth century drama, all of whom had a great deal to say about the human condition. So why Chekhov? And why “Uncle Vanya?” Forgive me, we are approaching the 21st Century: we live in the fast lane of superhype and MTV and “Billions sold!” We’ve set foot on the moon and sent unmanned probes into deepest space to explore planets our Chekhovian ancestors could only look at and dream about with their feet planted firmly on the ground, so what are the words of this 19th Century Russian to us? A different world, a different time. Really? Wait a balalaika pickin’ minute here. What is all this talk of Astrov’s about greedy man’s destruction of his environment? ‘Every day the earth grows more impoverished and ugly.’ Sound familiar? And why does Elenya talk of faithfulness and purity, and the capacity for self-sacrifice? The human condition is sad, it is painful, and Chekhov, in the English speaking world, has been accused of being morbid, depressing, a gloomy pessimist with too much “Russian Soul”. But the human condition can also be funny and happy and, more than anything at the end of the day, filled with hope. Chekhov knew well how bitter-sweet life is but there is always hope as is expressed most beautifully in some of Sonya’s final words in the play, ‘We shall see the whole sky light up with diamonds. Our life will grow serene, tender, sweet as a caress. I believe. I believe.’ If there was anyone who hoped to see the world a kinder, gentler place, that man was surely Anton Pavlovich Chekhov.

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