To begin with, i must say that i was pleasantly blown away with the production. It was unpretentious, it was simple, clear, sincere. Being sincerity key.
Listen, Chekhov is not easy, Chekhov is a "classic", Chekhov is probably the closest you can get to human soul on stage. He was a doctor himself, an outstanding observer, an exceptional visionary, a superb playwright.
I was moved deeply with the words that were being said, the actions played and the ideas that were being delivered--again, with sincerity and clarity.
My friends character shocked, stupefied, and left me speechless--good thing i was on my own, playing the role of an audience member. Lvovich Astrov, a healer, deeply troubled and frustrated (mocked and not comprehended at times) was addressing issues so pertinent to today's reality. I saw this being fighting for transformation, change and ultimately possessing lucidity on existence, life and the future.
I was sitting in my seat, in a corner, in the dark, flustering...feeling nervous, anxious and blushing...in a good way. Engaged, connected and excited.
Alright, what is all this about?
First, it's important to note the following: Mr. Anton Pavlovic Chekhov (Chejov) wrote this play in 1896. Ok? This means at the end of the 19th century. Important.
I won't go into the whole plays plot, but Astrov the doctor is a revolutionary doctor that plants trees. That takes care of a forest. Other characters do not understand this, make fun of him. With the exception of (ironic? Sofia Alexandrovna "Sonia"). It's Russia..it's work, work, work, tough work. And it's Chekhov: were in the surface nothing is happening- soooo not true- and people are "stuck" in boredom and lethargy.
Back to Astrov. When my friend was speaking his words with strength, stamina and conviction i was like: "yes! yes! Oh my, he is speaking the words of my soul!" Concerns for the world, concerns for us beings in this world, a vegetarian, a healer!!
Funny how life presents these things at the right precise moment, right? Or maybe they are all around me/us but it's a matter of being aware, right? Which is a beautiful thought, because it somehow means that we have a direct participation in our reality. Again, it's a matter of choice: what do we surround ourselves with? Who do we surround ourselves with? Who do we want to be?
Astrov! Michael Lvovich Astrov!
This is worth sharing. Read Anton Chekhov's words and get blown away!!! A visionary, an enlightened spirit.
I'll include the words in English and Spanish. (How i wish i could listen to them in Russian!)
Read away!
HELENA. (talking about the doctor) You're still young, not over thirty-six or seven, I should say, and I suspect that the woods don't interest you as much as you say they do. Nothing but tree after tree -- I should think you would find them monotonous.
SONYA. No, the work is very interesting. Dr. Astrov watches over the old woods and sets out new forests every year, and he has already received a diploma and a bronze medal. If you'll listen to what he can tell you, you'll agree with him entirely. He says that forests are the ornaments of the earth, that they teach mankind to understand beauty and attune his mind to lofty sentiments. Forests temper a stern climate, and in countries where the climate is milder, less strength is wasted in the battle with nature, and the people are kind and gentle. The inhabitants of such countries are handsome, tractable, sensitive, graceful in speech and gesture. Their philosophy is joyous, art and science blossom among them, their treatment of women is full of exquisite nobility ---
VOYNITSKY. [Laughing] Bravo! Bravo! All that's very pretty, but it's also unconvincing. So, my friend [To ASTROV] you must let me go on burning firewood in my stoves and building my sheds of planks.
ASTROV. You can burn peat in your stoves and build your sheds of stone. Oh, I don't object, of course, to cutting wood from necessity, but why destroy the forests? The woods of Russia are trembling under the blows of the axe. Millions of trees have perished. The homes of the wild animals and birds have been desolated; the rivers are shrinking, and many beautiful landscapes are gone forever. And why? Because men are too lazy and stupid to stoop down and pick up their fuel from the ground. [To HELENA] Am I not right, Madame? Who but a stupid barbarian could burn so much beauty in his stove and destroy that which he cannot make? Man is endowed with reason and the power to create, so that he may increase that which has been given him, but until now he has not created, but demolished. The forests are disappearing, the rivers are running dry, the wild life is exterminated, the climate is spoiled, and the earth becomes poorer and uglier every day. [ToVOYNITSKY] I see irony in your look; you don't take what I am saying seriously, and -- and -- after all, it may very well be nonsense. But when I pass village forests that I have preserved from the axe, or hear the rustling of the young trees set out with my own hands, I feel as if I had had some small share in improving the climate, and that if mankind is happy a thousand years from now I'll have been a little bit responsible for their happiness. When I plant a little birch tree and then see it budding into young green and swaying in the wind, my heart swells with pride and I -- [Sees the WORKMAN, who is bringing him a glass of vodka on a tray] however -- [He drinks] I must be off. Probably it's all nonsense, anyway. Good-bye.
...
*this is later in Act II
ASTROV. A human being should be beautiful in every way: the face, the clothes, the mind, the thoughts. Your step-mother is, of course, beautiful to look at, but don't you see? She does nothing but sleep and eat and walk and bewitch us, and that's all. She has no responsibilities, everything is done for her -- am I not right? There's no integrity in an idle life. [A pause] However, I may be judging her too severely. Like your Uncle Vanya, I'm discontented, and so we're both grumblers.
SONYA. Aren't you satisfied with life, then?
ASTROV. I like life in general, but I hate and despise it in a little Russian country village, and as far as my own personal life goes, by heaven! there's absolutely no redeeming feature about it. Haven't you noticed if you are riding through a dark wood at night and see a little light shining ahead, how you forget your fatigue and the darkness and the sharp twigs that whip your face? I work, you well know, as no one else in the district works. Fate beats me on without rest; at times I suffer unendurably and I see no light ahead. I have no hope; I don't like people. It's a long time since I've loved any one.
SONYA. You love no one?
ASTROV. Not a soul. I only feel a sort of tenderness for your old nanny for old-times' sake. The peasants are all alike; they're stupid and live in dirt, and the educated people are hard to get along with. One gets tired of them. All our good friends are petty and shallow and see no farther than their own noses; in one word, they're stupid. Those that have brains and more to offer are hysterical, devoured with a mania for self-analysis. They whine, they hate, they pick faults everywhere with unhealthy sharpness. They sneak up to me sideways, look at me out of a corner of the eye, and say: "That man is a lunatic," "That man is a wind-bag." Or, if they don't know what else to label me with, they say I am strange, odd. I like forests, so that's strange. I don't eat meat; that's strange, too. Simple, natural relations between man and man, or man and nature, don't exist.
CASTELLANO--
had trouble copying a version, pero si les interesa, visiten
(Acto I, escena V)
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(Acto II--dialogo de Astrov con Sonia)
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