Black Swan State Theatre Company - The Cherry Orchard

 It’s wonderful to see Black Swan return to site specific productions in iconic Western Australian landmarks. The production of The Cherry Orchard at Sunset joins the fondly remembered production of The Mysteries in and around the University of Western Australia. And, the production of Tourmaline at PICA with a young Marcus Graham on a hot sweaty Festival of Perth night. 

This Cherry Orchard production starts in the main hall (remember a Troupe touring show in there). In Act 2 we move to the breezy outlook overlooking the Swan River at sunset (artfully evoked in the lighting)  After interval with Russian food from a van and iced vodka cocktails, we are at a party in the courtyard. The final act moves into the hall where the seats are now draped with dust sheets and there are a few packing boxes (with a final melancholic reveal of Firs to top the show). 

The decaying ambiance of Sunset evokes the sense of decadent decline of the family. The flaking paint and rusted roofing iron are successful in foregrounding that melancholic Chekhov ennui. In particular, the final act with the bare vast open space of the hall finally managed to give me a sense of loss that I didn’t find in the first act. 

There’s a whole thesis to be written about translating the location and time period of classic plays. At one level, all contemporary productions are transformational, reinterpreting texts for present day audiences. And we can’t forget that we are always working with Chekhov in translation – language and culture. In the first act, the overlay of Chekhov to Manimup in the 1980s seemed forced. The deliberately Kitsch fluffy bedspreads and electric fluoro outfits, the overt hints about sex, drugs and rock and roll and the music, seemed a little calculated and obviously signalled. The first act seemed cluttered. By contrast the sparseness of the final act, resonated  more. Less is more. 

Adaptations and translations are always an irresistible lure for directors. (Having inflicted on audiences a 1960’s Cyrano I can admit the fascination!). It will be interesting to see how audiences react to this adaptation. On opening night I overheard younger audience members enthusiastic about it as they left. 

One of the memorable lessons of visiting Disneyland and seeing how they stage arena outdoor productions is the skill in directing our attention in the moment to moment focus. No matter where the next action or scene was to take place, the audience was directed by action, music, sound and lighting. You knew instinctively where to look, anticipated for you by the direction. More could have been made of that skill in this production. 

The hard working cast handled the spaces well and carried off the fashion crimes of the times. They often had huge spaces to cover with entrances and exits. The hybrid language – sometimes awkwardly caught between Aussie vernacular and Chekhov – was managed though sometimes it grated. Also the improvised scenes (playing with the Casiotone while the audience joined the BBQ outdoors, for example) sit awkwardly alongside the “text”. There needs to be a fine balance between the tone of the original text and modern interpolations. 

In the end, none of the characters were truly likeable – and that bothered me. The familiar bumbling comic work of Sam Longley was sustained throughout. The “victory” speech in Act 3 by the nouveau rich Lopakhin, strongly delivered by Ben Mortley, worked hard to convey a judgement on the hopeless decadence and myopia of the landowner family. The final act farewells finally managed to draw out of me some sense of their loss.  

The use of music to establish mood, time and place was a nostalgia trip for some of the audience. There’s skill in the choices made by directors and how those choices progress characterisation and plot development. Couple of times, particularly in the party scene, the music felt like it padded the action (I know in Chekhov, we are frequently waiting for action through inaction, but sometimes, it felt like truly nothing was happening). Music does more than summon up nostalgia.   

Curiously, in Act 1, the actors were miked but not in Acts 3 and 4. I can understand why it is important to amplify the voices in the outdoor BBQ scene, but in Act 1, the reverb and distortion were off-putting.

As an aside: It was amusing  during the outdoor BBQ scene  at sunset, to see in the distance behind the action a group of kids playing – and then realising that there was something happening in their space. They scuttled off after pointing up the hill to the actors and audience. 

This production sees Black Swan back on song with staging and a strong presence in the Perth Festival. We need more reminders of this thread in the woven DNA of Black Swan.

Encore - March 20, 2021

It’s rare to have the opportunity to see both opening performance and closing night. 

Being at Sunset for Black Swan’s The Cherry Orchard on closing night gives an insight into how performances grow and mature over a season’s run.  Or maybe it could be that my ear had attuned to the vibe of the script. 

The performances are fuller and have more nuanced substance. We see and hear more - or is it just me feeling more comfortable with the construct. 

The kitchiness of 1980s memorabilia still looks tokenistic. But there is a strong recognition factor for. See some in the audience who pause to comment on the placemats. 

Sound amplification in Act 1 better. But I still wonder if it was necessary. 

This time the BBQ scene looking over the river was enlivened by the 7:00pm fireworks over Melville Water.  

There’s still the jarring moments when the wittering small talk about Casiotone whatever kicks into Chekhov. But there is still a question about the interpolated ‘Good on ta Bondy!” And the interjected ’clusterfuck’! I know that we always view Chekhov through the filter of translation, but something is lost not gained. 

The party scene in the Vodka courtyard still has padding – manic dancing to music had attack and verve from the actors but is essentially dead air space in terms of dramatic action. 

The final act in the ruined crumbling house is still powerful in draped dust sheets. 

This time I purposefully chose to see the play from differing perspectives – and it does make a difference in terms of where the action is focused (see my earlier comments about the Disney phenomenon of managing points of focus). 

Seeing a play a second time does allow for closer analysis.

The dual challenges of writing and acting are brought sharply into focus. Staying balanced on the continuum of role/character/caricature – the slippery slope between farce and tragedy – is difficult for writers and actors. How do you make the indolent toy boy more than supernumerary? How do you give even a touch of humanity to that role? And how do you make  the obviously farcical brother or neighbour less shallow and obvious? How do you take the former serf beyond simple resentment translated into revenge? This is a writing problem first. 

Did our opinion or response to Ranevskaya change? In complex characters (as Chekhov showed us) we look for the points in the action where the character’s journey changes, shifts, moves. The trajectory of Ranevskaya in this production seemed to move inevitably in one direction only. Did my emotional response to her predicament shift or change? I said after the first viewing of the production that I didn’t like any these characters and I think maybe I have worked out why.

The art of dramatic writing still goes back to the adage: show me, don;t tell me! In this version we are more often told about things – the loss of her first husband and child. Were we emotionally connected to them symbolically and emotionally? Or were we glossed past them as plot points? This is a writing issue.

It is still wonderful to see Black Swan performing at Sunset. The concept of staging a play around the site is exciting and invigorating (as much as I love going into the velvet hush of the theatre!). Let’s continue to bring excitement into our theatregoing.