The Cherry
Orchard Conservatory of Theatre Arts, 1999
Harry Webber - The Riverfront Times
If a perfect modern play exists, it is Anton Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard. The action, which begins, climaxes and ends faultlessly,
is contained in a natural time frame. Each character is interesting, worthy of attention and
essential. Despite the humor of word and deed that inform every fiber of the drama, the emotions the
play generates are pity, often rather contemptuous, and fear, not only for the characters but for the
society in which they cannot function. If you want to know exactly why the Russian Revolution had to
happen, in The Cherry Orchard Chekhov lays pre-1917 Russia open and, like a
skillful anatomist, dissects and explicates at the same time.
That Chekhov observed social pathology so well might be a result of his
medical training. In his day, however, a physician, no matter how skilled, could actually do very
little but diagnose. He had morphine to ease pain, a few drugs for certain diseases—quinine for
malaria, for instance. If he was up on the journals, he might have some knowledge of antisepsis but no
antibiotics, no antidepressants—nothing to cure, nothing to cause remission. The
Cherry Orchard is a presentation of a case, interesting but hopeless, at grand rounds, where
the best doctors can do nothing more than talk intelligently about it.
The difficulty in producing The Cherry Orchard
is finding actors who are capable of making even an apparently small role seem the most important part
in the play. Tim Ocel, however, who has directed this production with the most delicate sensibility,
coupled with absolutely breathtaking dramatic acuity, fields a cast of young actors so good that I kept
saying to myself that this character or that, in small role or large, was the key to understanding the
play. Mr. Ocel’s triumph, ensemble performance as well-fitted as a high performance racing engine,
simply doesn’t allow you to notice that a tall, fit young man is acting the part of a 90-year-old
servant because you’re so interested in what he’s doing that what he is has become merely accidental.
One cannot but be ravished by Susan Dietz’s person and persona in the role of
Lyubov Andreyevna, an estate owner who cannot be bothered to do anything to hold onto it, even though
losing it will mean poverty for her and her family. Both in exhalation and dejection, Dietz’s body
language and tuneful voice are the physical metronome to which all the others move. I was also struck
by the compelling performances of Matt Huffman as Lopakhin, who rises from peasant’s son to owner of the
estate, and of James Andrew Butz as Trofimov, a no-longer-a-kid perpetual student who may be the only
one who sees further than a few months into the future.
Geno A. Franco’s set is consistently as practical as it is interesting; Frank
McCullough’s costumes are effective, especially for Ms. Dietz; Keith Evans’ lighting and Marc Moore’s
sound are never intrusive and always helpful.
The Cherry Orchard continues through Feb. 28, in
the Studio Theatre at the Loretto-Hilton Center, and those who like their theater to have some substance
as well as theatrical competence really should not miss this uniformly first-class production. It’s the
best Cherry Orchard I've ever seen and, in its way, the best production of
any play I’ve seen in St. Louis for a couple of years. Its director and young actors have my admiration
and my gratitude.
(Webster University)