Review: Kirsikkatarha
Helsinki City Theatre’s The Cherry Orchard is a visually stunning onslaught – Director Lauri Maijala and his crew bring the social dimensions and roots of the classic play to the stage
The Cherry Orchard at the Helsinki City Theatre is truly spectacular theatre. Director Lauri Maijala rolled Anton Chekhov’s story forward with the help of stunning stage images. This visually stunning ensemble was spiced up with Lauri Porra’s fine music.
In the script, Maijala does not unnecessarily emphasize the importance of the teamwork she has done with set designer Janne Vasama. The Cherry Orchard is already the seventh joint project of these two talented, young-generation theatre makers.
Among the creators of the amazing scenography is, of course, Mika Ijäs, who designed the lights for the performance.
Finland’s largest stage in terms of its dimensions is certainly a scary place for any director, set designer, actor or musician. In the script, Maijala talks about a stress dream she had during the production, a nightmare that had a serious apocalyptic feeling.
The frightening nature of the scale of the big stage is also described by Heidi Herala, who plays the role of Ranevskaya in the play, in her work diary.
As a viewer, I was left wondering how Chekhov’s paintings of small people fit into such massive frames.
When making their own arrangement, Maijala and dramaturg Merja Turunen have, in my opinion, seen sharply through the layers of interpretation that have accumulated around this classic over a hundred years. Helsinki City Theatre’s The Cherry Orchard is not just a humorously told story about the tragedy of one family, but above all a depiction of a major social upheaval and its effects on people, starting from the individual level.
The social upheaval described by Chekhov in the play began in Russia with the liberation of serfs, which took place during the reign of Tsar Alexander II in 1961. For Lopahin (Chike Ohanwe), one of the play’s characters, who was born as the son of a serf, the reform provided an opportunity for a social rise from rags to riches. For First (Seppo Maijala), who had toiled all his life as a domestic slave and was landless, the reform meant a catastrophe, the loss of the last security of old age.
Maijala also emphasises this social dimension of Chekhov’s play in the role of the eternal student Trofimov (Tommi Eronen), for example. The scene in which Trofimov speaks through Eronen about the position of the poor and landless in Russia was one of the most impressive in the play.
The modernization of Russia, the transition from backward feudalism to at least some kind of democracy, failed tragically, and this failure still affects the lives of even us, the inhabitants of the former province of the Russian Empire.
“In order to live in the present, we have to redeem our past,” Trofimov says in the play. The source of Renevskaya’s pain is the death of a child. His young son drowned in a river flowing on the manor’s grounds. Tragedy binds and at the same time isolates Ranevskaya from this cherry orchard of her life.
This life tragedy, this deep trauma, has deprived Ranevskaya of the ability to adapt to change. Comparing the core idea of Chekhov’s play to the current reality in Russia is a little too obvious.
Russia’s collective trauma lies in the fact that the country has never been able to deal with the country’s terrible history. For example, the majority of the people still think that Joseph Stalin is one of the country’s greatest “tsars”.
Maijala favours physical acting in directing. In the cherry orchard, things got almost mesomic at times. There was plenty of speed and dangerous situations, for example, in the role of accountant Jepihodov, where Eero Saarinen probably had to run to the point of lactic acid at times.
Maijala can also still be mischievous. The jokes of the theatre’s inner circle undoubtedly went to the acknowledgment of Maijala, who was born in the 80s, to the Kasari generation. I also genuinely laughed at the “horkka acting” in the first scene of the play.
As the scion of a theatre family, Maijala has certainly seen and done more theatre than any law requires. According to the script, Maijala is only 32 years old. Creating something new not only justifies, but also requires breaking familiar interpretations. This creates a fresh and thought-provoking interpretation of an old classic that has been canonized with thousands of interpretations.
As an instructor, Maijala has now been in a master class with her Chekhov. The grip is getting better. The difference from Maijala’s Three Sisters, which Maijala directed for the KOM Theatre a few years ago, bodes well for the future.
In order to live in the present, we must redeem our past. Yes!