Les tres germanes

Les tres germanes d’Anton Txèkhov

direcció de Declan Donnellan

Foto: Igor Zakharkin

Crítiques i recull de premsa

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Les tres germanes d’Anton txèkhov. Direcció de Declan

Donnellan

Pg. 2

La premsa ha dit...

“És una gran producció, i un redescobriment emocionant i familiar. Declan Donnellan ha tret la boira agredolça de la melancolia”

John Peter. The Sunday Times. 06/05/07

“No em puc imaginar una producció més delicada, lluminosa i penetrant emocionalment del drama de Txèchov”

Sam Marlowe. The Times. 30/04/07

“Mai he vist una producció de l’obra que es mogués amb fluïdesa expressiva i que comuniqués els seus estats d’ànim contradictoris amb una precisió tan penetrant”

Paul Taylor. The Independent. 04/05/07

“Aquesta obra no només transcendeix les fronteres nacionals sinó també les limitacions de la paraula parlada i dóna a la seva audiència una idea de les possibilitats

inherents a la llengua internacional del teatre”

Nigel Munro-Wallis. Five Stars. 01/08/08

“La producció és poderosa i convincent. Donnellan ha evitat la configuració estàtica en lloc de Txèkhov per donar-nos una producció amb molta més acció i moviment”

John Henningham. Queensland’s Online Stage Magazine. Agost 2008.

Pg. 3

The Sunday Times. 06/05/07

by John Peter, Cheek by Jowl tour, 6 May 2007

This is a great production, and a thrilling rediscovery of a great and familiar play. Declan Donnellan has lifted from it the bittersweet mist of gentility and melancholy. The Prozorovand sophisticated: not provincial dreamers, but confident Moscow girls from a good family. They laugh a lot and, as the play darkens, the laughter becomes mocking, ironical, angry, desperate, a form of selfrelief. The tragic side of the play becomes more deeply painful: they are proud in defeat. The play is in Russian; most of the actors reached maturity in postGorbachev Russia, and their work has a defiant selfAlexander Feklistov’s middleand a little awkward, he’s never been handsome, but he has a boyish eagerness that warms the play.

Les tres germanesd’Anton txèkhov. Direcció de Declan

Donnellan

unday Times. 06/05/07

by John Peter, Cheek by Jowl tour, 6 May 2007

This is a great production, and a thrilling rediscovery of a great and familiar play. Declan Donnellan has lifted from it the bittersweet mist of gentility and melancholy. The Prozorov girls are young, beautiful, playful and sophisticated: not provincial dreamers, but confident Moscow girls from a good family. They laugh a lot and, as the play darkens, the laughter becomes mocking, ironical, angry, desperate, a form of selfrelief. The tragic side of the play becomes more deeply painful: they are proud in defeat. The play is in Russian; most of the actors reached maturity in postGorbachev Russia, and their work has a defiant selfAlexander Feklistov’s middle-aged Vershinin is masterly: sweetand a little awkward, he’s never been handsome, but he has a boyish eagerness that warms the play.


This is a great production, and a thrilling rediscovery of a great and familiar play. Declan Donnellan has lifted from it the bittersweet mist of

girls are young, beautiful, playful and sophisticated: not provincial dreamers, but confident Moscow girls from a good family. They laugh a lot and, as the play darkens, the laughter becomes mocking, ironical, angry, desperate, a form of self-defence and relief. The tragic side of the play becomes more deeply painful: they are proud in defeat. The play is in Russian; most of the actors reached maturity in postGorbachev Russia, and their work has a defiant self-assertion.

ershinin is masterly: sweet-natured and a little awkward, he’s never been handsome, but he has a boyish

Pg. 4

The Times. 30/04/07

by Sam Marlowe at Cambridge Arts Theatre, 30 April 2007

I cannot imagine a more delicaChekhov’s drama than Cheek By Jowl’s. Performed by the company’s Russian ensemble, it is directed by Declan Donnellan with utter precision, while Nick Ormerod’s design, with its tiny symbolic doll’s houseperilously tilting walls and windows, conveys the way in which the Prozorov family home is both prison and sanctuary. And the acting is nothing short of sublime.

Donnellan never neglects the underlying playful girlishness, born history, that continually bobs to the surface, buoytheir most anguished. After the fire of Act III, the trio cling tearfully together as Nelly Uvarova’s huge-eyed Irina grows almost hysterical. Natasha, appears, it is as if she has stumbled upon a conspiracy, and the sisters’ distress dissolves into illicit giggles. It’s little wonder that Natasha, so entirely excluded and who begins in Sibiryakova’s performance as gauche, turns as spectacularly nasty as she does here.

The lightness that illuminates the production lies partly in the sisters’ childlike spontaneity and sense of the absurd, and partly in the characters’ observanconvention. Evgenia Dmitrieva’s lonely, exhausted Olga busies herself, smilingly, with domestic details; and even as Irina Grineva’s Masha wonders how she can continue to bear her “wretched life” she laughs, politely, helplessly. Yet when she Feklistov’s Vershinin, balding, kind and sensitive, part lover, part fatherslyly and appreciatingly flicks her eyes over his body while his back is turned. It’s deliciously naughty.

The characters’ frustrated connections stack Conversations are interrupted by a yawn, a guffaw or a sottise. Andrey pours out his heart to a deaf servant; Solenyi’s unwelcome attentions to Irina culminate in actual sexual assault. Kulygin places a cushion against thin it for comfort, as if yearning for the children and happy home she might give him were she not filled with boredom and contempt.

And when Irina is given a spinning top as a namewordlessly watches it pointlessly revolve, an economically eloquent image of their futile lives. Heartbreaking simplicity; simply heartbreaking.


Donnellan

by Sam Marlowe at Cambridge Arts Theatre, 30 April 2007

I cannot imagine a more delicate, luminous and emotionally piercing production of Chekhov’s drama than Cheek By Jowl’s. Performed by the company’s Russian ensemble, it is directed by Declan Donnellan with utter precision, while Nick Ormerod’s design, with its tiny symbolic doll’s house and oppressive backdrop of perilously tilting walls and windows, conveys the way in which the Prozorov family home is both prison and sanctuary. And the acting is nothing short of sublime.

Donnellan never neglects the underlying playful girlishness, born of a shared sibling history, that continually bobs to the surface, buoy-like, to keep the sisters afloat even at their most anguished. After the fire of Act III, the trio cling tearfully together as Nelly

eyed Irina grows almost hysterical. When Ekaterina Sibiryakova, as Natasha, appears, it is as if she has stumbled upon a conspiracy, and the sisters’ distress dissolves into illicit giggles. It’s little wonder that Natasha, so entirely excluded and who begins in Sibiryakova’s performance as pretentious and ambitious, yet touchingly gauche, turns as spectacularly nasty as she does here.

The lightness that illuminates the production lies partly in the sisters’ childlike spontaneity and sense of the absurd, and partly in the characters’ observanconvention. Evgenia Dmitrieva’s lonely, exhausted Olga busies herself, smilingly, with domestic details; and even as Irina Grineva’s Masha wonders how she can continue to bear her “wretched life” she laughs, politely, helplessly. Yet when she meets Alexander Feklistov’s Vershinin, balding, kind and sensitive, part lover, part fatherslyly and appreciatingly flicks her eyes over his body while his back is turned. It’s

The characters’ frustrated connections stack up with a mounting sense of dread. Conversations are interrupted by a yawn, a guffaw or a sottise. Andrey pours out his heart to a deaf servant; Solenyi’s unwelcome attentions to Irina culminate in actual sexual assault. Kulygin places a cushion against the belly of Masha and buries his head in it for comfort, as if yearning for the children and happy home she might give him were she not filled with boredom and contempt.

And when Irina is given a spinning top as a name-day present, the entire household lessly watches it pointlessly revolve, an economically eloquent image of their

Heartbreaking simplicity; simply heartbreaking.


te, luminous and emotionally piercing production of Chekhov’s drama than Cheek By Jowl’s. Performed by the company’s Russian ensemble, it is directed by Declan Donnellan with utter precision, while Nick

and oppressive backdrop of perilously tilting walls and windows, conveys the way in which the Prozorov family home is both prison and sanctuary. And the acting is nothing short of sublime.

of a shared sibling like, to keep the sisters afloat even at

their most anguished. After the fire of Act III, the trio cling tearfully together as Nelly When Ekaterina Sibiryakova, as

Natasha, appears, it is as if she has stumbled upon a conspiracy, and the sisters’ distress dissolves into illicit giggles. It’s little wonder that Natasha, so entirely excluded and

pretentious and ambitious, yet touchingly

The lightness that illuminates the production lies partly in the sisters’ childlike spontaneity and sense of the absurd, and partly in the characters’ observance of social convention. Evgenia Dmitrieva’s lonely, exhausted Olga busies herself, smilingly, with domestic details; and even as Irina Grineva’s Masha wonders how she can continue to

meets Alexander Feklistov’s Vershinin, balding, kind and sensitive, part lover, part father-figure, she slyly and appreciatingly flicks her eyes over his body while his back is turned. It’s

up with a mounting sense of dread. Conversations are interrupted by a yawn, a guffaw or a sottise. Andrey pours out his heart to a deaf servant; Solenyi’s unwelcome attentions to Irina culminate in actual

e belly of Masha and buries his head in it for comfort, as if yearning for the children and happy home she might give him

day present, the entire household lessly watches it pointlessly revolve, an economically eloquent image of their

Pg. 5

The Independent. 04/05/07

by Paul Taylor at Warwick Arts Centre, Coventry, 4 May 2007

Declan Donnellan and Nick Ormerod, the artistic directors of Cheek By Jowl, are in the unusual position of being considered national treasures in two countries England and their adoptive Russia. The company's visiting productions had so impressed Moscow and St Petunprecedented step of inviting them to form a Russian counterpart to Cheek By Jowl. This luminous version of Three Sisters, brilliantly performed by that ensemble, constitutes a complete explanation of wOrmerod to their hearts.

I have never seen a production of the play that moved with such expressive fluency or that communicated its volatile, contradictory moods with a more piercing precision. We first see the three sisters and their brother Andrei grouped as if for a family portrait civilised, harmonious and in a pose that, while it would have gratified their father, the General, is simply unsustainable since his death, which has left them stranded as overeducated, self-doubting misfits in this remote, crashingly dull provincial town.

The staging gives itself a marvellous freedom of manoeuvre by eschewing fussy realism. There's a doll's-house, a windchanges of setting are swiftly evoked by arranging these items in various configurations. In the second scene, where a visit from the mummers is awaited, the tables become a kind of inner stage with candles as footlights and thus can act as a platform for the philosophising bout between Vershinin and Tuzenbach.

Throughout, you get a strong sense of people striving to rouse themselves from depression. True to Chekhov, the production underlines how tragic feeling can erupt in desperate laughter and playfulness. You see tscene after the fire. On her usual faultin-law Natasha (Ekaterina Sibiryakova) crosses the stage with a candle, too absorbed to acknowledge the sisters. A commentthat it was she who started the fire" reduces the trio to convulsions of mirth. Their contentious sibling intimacy, the humour that can bubble up even in extremis because of long family history, and their Natasha: all of this is beautifully revealed.

Nelly Uvarova is the most haunting Irina that I've encountered. She projects to perfection the confused, fearful yearning of a girl who, at 24, feels that love has become imprisoned within. Evgenia Dmitrieva is an unusually attractive Olga lonely yet stoic, fanning herself with a handkerchief as if trying to whisk away the unwelcome news of Masha's adulterous passion but matter


Donnellan

The Independent. 04/05/07

by Paul Taylor at Warwick Arts Centre, Coventry, 4 May 2007

ck Ormerod, the artistic directors of Cheek By Jowl, are in the unusual position of being considered national treasures in two countries England and their adoptive Russia. The company's visiting productions had so impressed Moscow and St Petersburg that in 1999 the Theatre Federation took the unprecedented step of inviting them to form a Russian counterpart to Cheek By Jowl. This luminous version of Three Sisters, brilliantly performed by that ensemble, constitutes a complete explanation of why the Russians have taken Donnellan and

I have never seen a production of the play that moved with such expressive fluency or that communicated its volatile, contradictory moods with a more piercing precision. We

ee sisters and their brother Andrei grouped as if for a family portrait civilised, harmonious and in a pose that, while it would have gratified their father, the General, is simply unsustainable since his death, which has left them stranded as over

doubting misfits in this remote, crashingly dull provincial town.

The staging gives itself a marvellous freedom of manoeuvre by eschewing fussy house, a wind-up gramophone, a scattering of chairs and tables:

etting are swiftly evoked by arranging these items in various configurations. In the second scene, where a visit from the mummers is awaited, the tables become a kind of inner stage with candles as footlights and thus can act as a platform for the

hising bout between Vershinin and Tuzenbach.

Throughout, you get a strong sense of people striving to rouse themselves from depression. True to Chekhov, the production underlines how tragic feeling can erupt in desperate laughter and playfulness. You see this in a splendidly handled sequence in the scene after the fire. On her usual fault-finding rounds of the house, the usurping sister

law Natasha (Ekaterina Sibiryakova) crosses the stage with a candle, too absorbed to acknowledge the sisters. A comment by Masha that "the way she goes about you'd think that it was she who started the fire" reduces the trio to convulsions of mirth. Their contentious sibling intimacy, the humour that can bubble up even in extremis because of long family history, and their snooty conspiratorial bond against the vulgar, awkward Natasha: all of this is beautifully revealed.

Nelly Uvarova is the most haunting Irina that I've encountered. She projects to perfection the confused, fearful yearning of a girl who, at 24, feels that love has become imprisoned within. Evgenia Dmitrieva is an unusually attractive Olga lonely yet stoic, fanning herself with a handkerchief as if trying to whisk away the unwelcome news of Masha's adulterous passion but matter-of-factly throwing a glass of


ck Ormerod, the artistic directors of Cheek By Jowl, are in the unusual position of being considered national treasures in two countries - their native England and their adoptive Russia. The company's visiting productions had so

ersburg that in 1999 the Theatre Federation took the unprecedented step of inviting them to form a Russian counterpart to Cheek By Jowl. This luminous version of Three Sisters, brilliantly performed by that ensemble,

hy the Russians have taken Donnellan and

I have never seen a production of the play that moved with such expressive fluency or that communicated its volatile, contradictory moods with a more piercing precision. We

ee sisters and their brother Andrei grouped as if for a family portrait - civilised, harmonious and in a pose that, while it would have gratified their father, the General, is simply unsustainable since his death, which has left them stranded as over-

doubting misfits in this remote, crashingly dull provincial town.

The staging gives itself a marvellous freedom of manoeuvre by eschewing fussy up gramophone, a scattering of chairs and tables:

etting are swiftly evoked by arranging these items in various configurations. In the second scene, where a visit from the mummers is awaited, the tables become a kind of inner stage with candles as footlights and thus can act as a platform for the

Throughout, you get a strong sense of people striving to rouse themselves from depression. True to Chekhov, the production underlines how tragic feeling can erupt in

his in a splendidly handled sequence in the finding rounds of the house, the usurping sister-

law Natasha (Ekaterina Sibiryakova) crosses the stage with a candle, too absorbed to by Masha that "the way she goes about you'd think

that it was she who started the fire" reduces the trio to convulsions of mirth. Their contentious sibling intimacy, the humour that can bubble up even in extremis because of

snooty conspiratorial bond against the vulgar, awkward

Nelly Uvarova is the most haunting Irina that I've encountered. She projects to perfection the confused, fearful yearning of a girl who, at 24, feels that the capacity to love has become imprisoned within. Evgenia Dmitrieva is an unusually attractive Olga - lonely yet stoic, fanning herself with a handkerchief as if trying to whisk away the

rowing a glass of


Donnellan

Pg. 6

water over Irina when the latter succumbs to hysterics. You learn volumes about the sad, hopeless marriage of Irina Grineva's Masha and the schoolteacher Kulygin here when he beseechingly plumps a pillow against her womb and lays his head on it like a little boy anxious to be comforted. Not that you feel that their union would have been any happier had she given him children.

It's never occurred to me before to speculate about what happens to Bobik, the sisters' sickly and much cosseted baby nephew. But here, because of the Russian cast, I fell to wondering how he fared in that country's future. Were his mother's genes dominant or those of his father? Did he become a Soviet apparatchik or was he purged?


Donnellan

Pg. 7

Five Stars. Nigel Munro-Wallis. 01/08/08

Review: Three Sisters

Aug 01, 2008

By Anton Chekhov

Playhouse – Part of the 2008

Brisbane Festival

Chekhov’s plays have something of an undeserved reputation for being somewhat dry and

difficult and that, undoubtedly, will deter some in

Brisbane from venturing out on a cold night and

catching a performance of Three Sisters, currently

playing at the Playhouse as part of this years exciting

Brisbane Festival. Add to this is the difficulty of the

production being staged in Russian with English

surtitles and this production was never destined to be

a big crowd puller.

But what a pity! Declan Donnellan’s production,

brought to Brisbane in association with Cheek by Jowl

and the Chekhov International Theatre Festival, is one

of the most stunning pieces of theatre I have seen for

some time and to miss it is to miss an experience that will truly move the soul.

Certainly, for an initial period as the play opens one needs to take time to adjust to the

difficulty of experiencing a production in a foreign tongue. I for one understand no more than

the odd word of Russian – particularly when delivered at the cracking pace of this piece – but

the surtitles are easy to read and one soon gets caught up in the simple beauty of this

production. When all is said and done, how is this experience any different from sitting

through a foreign language film or the performance of many of our favourite operas?

The beauty of this piece transcends mere words and one soon becomes transported to

another world as one watches Olga, Masha, Irina , Andrey and their circle of friends, would-be-

suitors and lovers struggle to find meaning in their provincial life while all the time hoping for

so much more. One doesn’t need to understand precisely what is said to feel the emotion and

tension of this piece and it is to Donnellan’s credit that the audience remains on the edge of

their seats from the first scene to the last in this superb production.


Donnellan

Pg. 8

Traditionally and rather lengthy piece, Three Sisters passes by in what seems like a few

moments. I have rarely been so moved by a piece of theatre and certainly never by any other

production of a Chekhov play. This piece transcends national boundaries; it transcends the

limitations of the spoken word and gives its audience a taste of the possibilities inherent in the

international language of the theatre.

I was so excited by this piece that I could, quite honestly, have sat through the entire

performance again right then and there.

Set and costume designs by Nick Ormerod are stunning in their deceptive simplicity. The

stunning backdrops, firstly of the tilting walls and later of that fabulous forest are amazing.

One is kept totally in the moment at all times – I could smell that Russian country air and could

feel the atmosphere of that house. The tiny doll’s house that sits so casually throughout much

of the action says more than any words could do about the innocence and constriction of the

world that the Prozorov family have built so carefully around themselves. Prison and

sanctuary, innocence and petty intrigue, it is all their surrounding this tragic family the whole

time.

An ensemble piece that for my money simply cannot be faulted, Three Sisters is an experience

that will not easily be forgotten. Full marks to Lyndon Terracini and his remarkable team for

having the foresight to bring this theatrical treat to us during this wonderful festival.


Donnellan

Pg. 9

Queensland’s Online Stage Magazine. John Henningham. Agost 2008.

Three Sisters

Brisbane Festival/Chekhov International Theatre Festival (QPAC Playhouse)

In a Brisbane Festival full of innovation and surprises, the staging of Chekhov's masterpiece in

its original Russian proved to be a unique and valuable experience. (Fortunately sub-titles are

provided to enable local audiences to fully appreciate the text — the titles are screened on

monitors to each side of the stage, avoiding the upward gazing of opera audiences seeking

meaning from surtitles.)

The joy of the production from Brisbane's perspective is to see a top Russian ensemble acting a

brilliant play in the language of its author, bringing something of the Russian soul to the other

side of the earth. The language sounds deliciously rich and meaningful (irreverently recalling

the Jamie Lee Curtis character Wanda in A Fish Called Wanda, so aroused by John Cleese's

fluency in russkiy yazyk). But regardless of the language concerned, it is indeed a fascinating

experience to experience a foreign-language play in its original voice, and I hope we will have

more such opportunities in Brisbane.

Directed by Declan Donnellan for the Chekhov International Theatre Festival, the production is

powerful and convincing. Donnellan has eschewed Chekhov's rather static settings to give us a

production with much more action and movement. The luncheon table of Act I is centre stage

rather than upstage behind pillars, and characters dance and run around it. Intimate

exchanges are spotlighted while other characters are in shadows.

There's the usual quirky collection of characters who people Chekhov plays, with wistful and

wandering philosophising. They speculate about the distant future, wondering whether people

would fundamentally be any different 200 years hence — in our century. (Answer: no.)

Irina Grineva shines as Masha, lovelessly married and increasingly drawn to the melancholy

middle-aged colonel Vershinin (Alexander Feklistov). Evgenia Dmitrieva as Olga, the anchor of

the family, and Nelli Uvarova as youngest sister Irina yearning for Moskvábeautifully depict

characters who are at once different and similar.

Igor Yasulovich as the old army doctor, Chebutikin, is superb, engaging us with his laconic

utterances and observations. As the young aristocratic officer Tuzenbach, Artem Semakin

projects optimism and naiveté. The romance between Vershinin and Masha is touchingly and

organically depicted, through to its highly-charged and physical farewell scene.

Also effective are Alexey Dadonov as the sisters' cuckolded brother, Andrey, and Ekaterina


Donnellan

Pg. 10

Sibiryakova as as wife Natasha, who eerily morphs into the sister-in-law from hell. Alexander

Lenkov and Galina Moracheva give touchingly real characterisations of the deaf council

watchman and the elderly nurse.

Nick Ormerod's design evokes the 19th century provincial mansion of the sisters as they yearn

for a more fulfilling life in the big city. No doubt many contemporary Muscovites would happily

exchange their lot for life in the provinces, but the grass on the other hills is always greener, as

Chekhov knew so well.

Incidentally, it's interesting to discover that the common naming of this play as "The Three

Sisters" is contrary to the Russian title, Tri sestri, which lacks the definite article. This

production corrects the error. Concordant with his capturing of universal themes, Chekhov was

writing about any three sisters, whose story is repeated over and over in culture after culture

and until the end of time.

— John Henningham

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