A Cherry Orchard You Can Feel

A reimagining of Anton Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard, written and directed by Benedict Andrews, has made its way to St. Ann’s Warehouse in Brooklyn following a run at London’s Donmar Warehouse. Chekhov’s timeless, final play centers on the aristocratic Ranevskaya, who cannot come to terms with the impending loss of her estate and the cherry orchard that lies within it—soon to be sold in an auction to settle the family’s debts. She ultimately loses it to Lopakhin, a wealthy businessman and former peasant. Set during Russia’s shift away from a feudal system, the play reflects a changing country, one on the brink of revolution; Chekhov alludes to the fall of the aristocracy and the rise of a new social order. Despite its tragic undercurrent, he wrote the play as a comedy. However, Konstantin Stanislavski—who first directed the play—famously staged it as a tragedy, setting the tone for many future productions. While The Cherry Orchard has been reinterpreted countless times, Andrews still has more to offer. His modern interpretation is minimalistic yet immersive, creating an atmosphere that fully engages the audience through its intimate staging paired with strong performances. The production is deeply rooted in the play’s spirit of loss and change, yet it remains true to Chekhov’s original comedic sensibility. 

The production is remarkably intimate, with understated scenography that is simple yet evocative. The audience is seated around the stage, which is only decorated with orange oriental rugs. Overhead, a large light box provides subtle yet effective lighting, dimming during the play’s heavier moments. The actors emerge from the audience, perform their scenes, and then return to their seats, dissolving the barrier between performer and viewer. Audience members also become parts of the play—they stand in as a bookshelf, Pishchik’s daughter, and Ranevskaya’s aunt. While these interactions are largely comedic, they also deepen the audience’s connection to the story. As viewers are addressed directly, they are no longer comfortable spectators to the underlying tragedy of the play. 

Ranevskaya (Nina Hoss) returns to her estate in Russia after living in Paris for five years. Her elegant floral top and orange pants blend into the oriental rugs, tying her to the home she is about to lose. From the start, it is clear that the cherry orchard is a part of her. Ranevskaya is mature but emotionally fragile, carrying hurt from her past and her life in Paris. Andrews’s staging emphasizes how the other characters orbit around her, and Hoss’s performance is riveting. The theme of loss is apparent when a young boy (Kagani Paul Moonlight X Byler Jackson) asks Ranevskaya for money. He sings “Angel from Montgomery,” and the cast soon joins in, singing, “If dreams were lightning / And thunder were desire / This old house would’ve burnt down / A long time ago.” As the boy stands in front of her, Ranevskaya weeps—perhaps reminded of her late son. It is clear that in the face of loss, Ranevskaya desperately wants one thing to hold on to: the orchard. In contrast, Lopakhin (Adeel Akhtar) is energetic and self-aware. Although he wears a green suit and a flashy watch, Lopakhin admits that he still feels like a peasant. He jokes: “See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya” but also speaks with urgency when he urges Ranevskaya to cut down the orchard to lease out the estate. Their differences are clear: Ranevskaya is an aristocrat stuck in the past, and Lopakhin is a beneficiary of change who recognizes power. While these differing views accentuate the tragedy of the play, Yepikhodov (Éanna Hardwicke), a clerk on the estate, keeps the audience laughing with his squeaking shoes and guitar. Trofimov (Daniel Monks), the tutor of Ranevskaya’s late son, delivers an impassioned speech criticizing the elite and calling for social change—a reminder of the play’s continued relevance that also draws applause from the audience.

After intermission, a live band appears on stage and characters take turns singing ‘70s songs. Ranevskaya anxiously waits for Gayev (Michael Gould) to return from the auction. Charlotta (Sarah Amankwah) spreads haze throughout the stage; it’s atmospheric but stifling, giving the audience the same sense of loose excitement and anxiety the characters feel at the party. When Lopakhin returns at the end of the act, Akhtar commands the stage. Bloodied and dazed, he announces that he has bought the estate. He pours champagne over himself as Ranevskaya sobs on the floor—a raw and powerful scene that fully embraces the tragic undertones of the play. In the final act, the cast strips the oriental rugs from the floor and the walls, revealing several doors behind them. The bare stage is a shocking contrast to the vibrant rugs that once covered it, evoking the same feeling of loss within the audience that the former residents of the estate feel. They say their goodbyes to the estate and leave through the doors, which open directly to the street. This exit heightens the feeling of entering a new world and starting a new life, highlighting Chekhov’s theme of change. 

Andrews’s The Cherry Orchard is simple in the best sense. All actions in the play are up close and personal, demanding the audience to witness both the comedy and uncomfortable tragedy of the play. One limitation of this production is its potential inaccessibility for viewers unfamiliar with Chekhov. While the minimalist stage draws focus on the actors’ performances, it may leave some viewers struggling to visualize the setting or understand its significance. Overall, Andrews’s reimagining offers an immersive and unique experience for fans of Chekhov.