Seagulls, and: The Free State (review)

Seagulls. By Andrzej Sadowski. Scarlet Theatre, Battersea Arts Centre, London. 26 January 2000.

The Free State. By Janet Suzman. Fifth Amendment, Birmingham Repertory Theatre and the West Yorkshire Playhouse, Birmingham Repertory Theatre, Birmingham. 24 February 2000.

So frequent are Chekhov revivals on the British stage that recently critics have complained of a surfeit. More remarkable, however, than their number is the stubborn conformity of these revivals to a sub-Stanislavskian tradition rooted in naturalism and a psychology which perversely disregards the wider social and political circumstances of these plays. Perhaps it augurs well for the new century that two recent productions signal refreshingly different approaches, although one of them comes at Chekhov indirectly.

Seagulls was the Scarlet Theatre's third project with writer Andrzej Sadowski and director Katarzyna Deszcz, co-founders of Poland's experimental Mandala Theatre, and the second which drew inspiration from Chekhov. Although its title signals homage to Chekhov, Seagulls is actually more concerned with the avant-garde Russian director Meyerhold. The action takes place in 1938 on the day Soviet authorities finally closed down Meyerhold's theatre. However, Sadowski plays fast and loose with historical detail to conjure up a larger sense of Meyerhold's theatrical oeuvre. Chekhov's fictional characters mix with historical figures drawn from different periods in Meyerhold's career: Prokofiev, the Constructivist artist Popova, and the actors Maria Babanova (cast as the stage manager), Igor Ilinsky, Ernst Garin and Zinaida Raikh (Meyerhold's wife).

Scarlet's mise en scène alluded wittily, albeit esoterically, to various features of Meyerhold's stagecraft and to specific, renowned productions. Exaggerated, idiosyncratic gestures and repeated sequences of action represented Meyerhold's fascination with stylized movement and, in particular, his famous experiments with biomechanics. Scarlet's tradition of physical and visual theatre equipped the cast to execute these actions with a consummate discipline that proved truthful and convincingly integral to the characters and the drama.

The set, designed by Sadowski, featured five small platforms on wheels, each divided by a flat into two different spaces. Frequently rotated and repositioned, these stages-within-a-stage evoked the vitality of Constructivism and referred more specifically to the stage-trucks used in Meyerhold's celebrated production of Gogol's Government Inspector. Some scenes in Seagulls were confined to a platform, and occasionally as many as five scenes or tableaux occurred simultaneously, the balance between them always deftly orchestrated. Meanwhile, Nigel Piper's carousel-like music expressed both the playful and sinister aspects of the fairground, which was an important influence on Meyerhold.

Sadowski's most felicitous textual invention is that, while awaiting the arrival of Stalin's officer, Meyerhold had his actors rehearse The Seagull, "that vaudeville piece by Chekhov." Consequently, Seagulls emphasizes the historical Meyerhold's close identification with Treplev, the young artist seeking new forms, whom he played in the seminal Moscow Art Theatre production of 1898. With no attempt to suggest a man of sixty-three, Meyerhold was played by the youngest member of Scarlet's company, Burn Gorman, as volatile, intense, and self-absorbed, repeatedly showing Garin how to play Treplev in like vein. The label "vaudeville" indicated that Deczsz's production also highlighted elements of comedy and melodrama in The Seagull. Moreover, it signaled the boldness with which the production addressed the issue of tone, so problematic in relation to Chekhov. Most of the characters in Seagulls were profoundly unhappy and despairing: Gráinne Byrne's Raikh stalked the stage with intense introspection, while Terence Mann brought to the lovelorn Garin the tender sadness of the clown.

In one of the most touching moments, Meyerhold replaced Garin to play, with Raikh, the Oedipal bandage scene between Treplev and Arkadina. This rare instance of connection between husband and wife exemplified the way in which the rehearsal scenes generally acquired added significance and poignancy, for Sadowski has mapped on to his dramatis personæ aspects of Chekhov's characters and their relationships, often with ironic inversions or twists. So, Garin was actually in love with...