Upon entering Balch Arena Theater, everything about "The Seagull" seems strange, unfamiliar. The set for the opening act consists mostly of long white sheets of fabric hanging from the ceiling at harsh angles that vaguely suggest trees. Before the show begins, as the audience is seated, two men build a stage on the stage. It's a little unexpected, a little different.
But 30 minutes into the play, all oddities are forgotten. It's hard to believe that a world exists outside of the show, that trees are made of wood rather than white strips of cloth, and that people in Russia don't actually speak English.
"The Seagull," originally by Anton Chekhov, is largely the work of the director, Professor Laurence Senelick, who translated the play from Russian for performance in English. "I believe this translation gets the jokes, transitions and repetitions of the original, which is really important," Senelick said.
While "The Seagull" may have foreign origins, American college students can certainly relate to the show's themes of unrequited love, uncertainty, fear of failure and conflict with parents. What at first seems strange soon becomes all too familiar. In fact, Senelick chose "The Seagull" as opposed to other Chekhov plays in part because of its universality.
"It's about youthful aspirations about people on the verge of deciding who they want to be - whether they want to be different from their elders or not," says Senelick.
The plot focuses on the relationships between several characters as they spend leisure time in the country. They would all rather be somewhere else, but instead are compelled to live in close proximity to one another. Their interaction creates tension, leads to arguments and fosters several one-sided romances.
An emotional and depressed Konstantin (played by senior David Jenkins) has been expelled from college and is attempting to become a playwright. He is in constant conflict with his mother, the aging actress Irina Arkadina (alumna Darcy Pulliam [J '65]), who is in a somewhat scandalous relationship with Boris Trigorin (sophomore David Greene), a much younger novelist. Konstantin is in love with aspiring actress Nina Zarechnaya (senior Molly O'Neill), but she is in love with Boris Trigorin. To further complicate matters, the overseer's daughter, Masha (senior Stacy Davidowitz), is hopelessly in love with Konstanin. And the overseer's wife, Polina (junior Kiki Samko), is having an affair with the doctor, Evgeny Dorn (sophomore Ben Samuels).
Tufts alum Pulliam is taking a break from professional acting, and returns to Tufts to portray the petty Irina. She's quite a contrast to Jenkins' melancholy Konstantin, whose depression, rather than being annoying, evokes sympathy. Some of the best performances are offered by O'Neill as Nina and Davidowitz as Masha. Both women, unable to find the comfort and solace they seek from those they love, struggle to continue with life. It may sound melodramatic, but every emotion in "The Seagull" is utterly convincing.
Despite misfortune and drama, it's clear that Chekhov intended "The Seagull" to be a comedy. Though love is probably the theme most central to the show, all of it is ironically either unrequited or misdirected. When watching this comedy of emotional errors, there are many instances in which it's a struggle not to fall to the floor laughing.
Chekhov was a practicing physician when he wrote "The Seagull," and his attitude toward the emotional pain of his characters is clinical; it's neither compassionate nor entirely unsentimental. "[Chekhov] refuses to take the plight of his characters seriously. He sees them as emotional hypochondriacs," says Director Laurence Senelick, "He finds their sickness but doesn't try to treat it."
Sure enough, throughout "The Seagull," this untreated "sickness" is apparent. It's tempting to scream advice at the characters, to take them by the shoulders and shake them out of their misery, to somehow help them be happy. In the end, of course, there's nothing to do but watch events play out, to laugh at the jokes and hope for the best. The pain and levity of the human condition as presented in "The Seagull" is engaging, heart-wrenching and hilarious.
