The Seagull (NHB Modern Plays) E-Book

Anton Chekhov

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 87

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

When celebrated actress Irina Arkádina arrives at her family's country estate for the summer, she finds herself caught in a perfect storm of conflicting desires. Her playwright son, Konstantin, is struggling to step out of her shadow to pursue his own artistic ambitions. Her lover Trigorin, a famous novelist, has entranced the aspiring young actress Nina, with whom Konstantin is in love. And complicating everything is Arkádina's own need to take centre stage, in her personal life as well as her work. As their lives entwine and they each grapple with their desires, ambitions and disappointments, Anton Chekhov's timeless play unfolds in a gripping tale of vanity, power and sacrifices made in the name of art. This refreshing, revitalised adaptation of The Seagull by Duncan Macmillan and Thomas Ostermeier was first performed at the Barbican Theatre, London, in 2025, directed by Ostermeier. The ensemble cast included Cate Blanchett, Tom Burke, Emma Corrin and Kodi Smit-McPhee.

Leseprobe

Anton Chekhov

THE SEAGULL

Adapted by

Duncan Macmillanand Thomas Ostermeier

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Original Production Information

The Seagull

About the Authors

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

This English-language adaptation of The Seagull was produced by Wessex Grove and Gavin Kalin Productions, and first performed at the Barbican Theatre, London, on 6 March 2025 (previews from 26 February). The cast was as follows:

EVGENY DORN

Paul Bazely

IRINA ARKÁDINA

Cate Blanchett

POLINA SHAMRAYEV

Priyanga Burford

ALEXANDER TRIGORIN

Tom Burke

NINA ZARÉCHNAYA

Emma Corrin

SIMON MEDVEDENKO

Zachary Hart

ILYA SHAMRAYEV

Paul Higgins

MASHA SHAMRAYEV

Tanya Reynolds

KONSTANTIN TREPLEV

Kodi Smit-McPhee

PETER SORIN

Jason Watkins

Understudies

ALEXANDER TRIGORIN & EVGENY DORN

Valentine Hanson

NINA ZARÉCHNAYA & MASHA SHAMRAYEV

Lucy Karczewski

IRINA ARKÁDINA & POLINA SHAMRAYEV

Celia Nelson

ILYA SHAMRAYEV & PETER SORIN

John Vernon

KONSTANTIN TREPLEV & SIMON MEDVEDENKO

Tom Victor

Co-Adaptor and Director

Thomas Ostermeier

Co-Adaptor

Duncan Macmillan

Set Designer

Magda Willi

Costume Designer

Marg Horwell

Lighting Designer

Bruno Poet

Sound Designer

Tom Gibbons

Casting Directors

Jim Carnahan CSA Liz Fraser CSA

Dramaturg

Maja Zade

Voice Coach

Hazel Holder

Associate Director

Alice Wordsworth

Associate Sound Designer

Erwin Sterk

Charactersin order of appearance

SIMON MEDVEDENKO

MASHA SHAMRAYEV

PETER SORIN

KONSTANTIN (KOSTYA) TREPLEV

NINA ZARÉCHNAYA

POLINA SHAMRAYEV

EVGENY DORN

IRINA ARKÁDINA

ALEXANDER TRIGORIN

ILYA SHAMRAYEV

Note on the Text

A forward slash ( / ) marks the point of interruption in overlapping dialogue.

A comma on a separate line ( , ) denotes a silence, the length of which is to be defined by context.

A dash ( – ) at the end of a line is an abrupt end to a thought.

An ellipsis ( … ) at the end of a line denotes a trailing off.

This ebook was created before the end of rehearsals and so may differ slightly from the play as performed.

ACT ONE

A stage. MASHA and MEDVEDENKO.

,

MEDVEDENKO Why do you always wear black?

MASHA I’m in mourning.

MEDVEDENKO For what?

MASHA My life.

I’m unhappy.

MEDVEDENKO I don’t understand you. You live rent-free.

Your parents aren’t rich but they can support you –

MASHA It’s not about money. It’s –

Not everything’s about money.

MEDVEDENKO No, I know. You’re right.

In theory.

But in reality – if you look at what’s happened to the cost of living – the cost of being alive – it’s a nightmare.

Take my life, for example. I support my mother, my two sisters and our little brother – five of us! Five hungry mouths! On my salary.

Every month I get squeezed and squeezed.

I’ve got nothing. Less than nothing. I’m a grunt. A cog in the machine. Working nights, operating a forklift, shifting boxes. I should be the one in black. I / should be –

MASHA Do you think the play will start soon?

MEDVEDENKO I envy him.

Konstantin.

He writes a play for the woman he loves, and she performs it – their souls merged together in artistic collaboration.

Whereas our souls remain / resolutely separate.

MASHA Please, don’t –

MEDVEDENKO I love you, Masha. I can’t pretend I don’t.

It hurts.

Every day I walk for an hour to bask in your indifference.

MASHA Simon –

MEDVEDENKO I know, I know. Who wants a man who can’t provide?

MASHA Shut up, that’s not –

MASHA uses her vape.

I’m flattered. I am. I just –

I don’t feel the same way.

She offers her vape to him.

MEDVEDENKO No thanks.

MASHA Humid.

MEDVEDENKO Yeah.

MASHA Might be a thunderstorm.

Look, all you do is sit around talking, theorising, expressing opinions or stressing about money as if it’s the most important thing in the world and, I’m sorry, but I just don’t agree with you. A person could be homeless and still –

I don’t know.

SORIN and KOSTYA approach, mid-conversation.

SORIN Country life is awful. All this fresh air. It’s killing me!

Last night I fell asleep at eight and didn’t wake till eleven. Went down for lunch, and fell asleep again! By accident!

Not totally convinced I’m awake now.

My brain’s soggy.

Feel like I’ve been exhumed.

KOSTYA You belong in the city.

(To MASHA and MEDVEDENKO.) What are you two doing here?

MEDVEDENKO Watching the play –

KOSTYA Not yet. Go, please, you’re in the way.

SORIN (As MASHA leaves.) Oh – Masha, the dog howled again, all night. Would you please appeal to your ever-tolerant father’s abundant compassion and –

MASHA Ask him yourself, I’m not his PA.

SORIN My sister didn’t sleep a wink –

MASHA Then fire him. I don’t care.

(To MEDVEDENKO.) Come on.

MEDVEDENKO You’ll tell us when the play starts?

MEDVEDENKO leaves with MASHA.

SORIN It’s always like this. Dream of being here, then want to leave within a day. I hate the countryside. Now I’m trapped here. All those years in that cramped office, counting the minutes until retirement – now here I am, with nothing to look forward to but death.

All this time. The interminable peace and quiet. All I can hear are my thoughts. It’s a fucking nightmare.

KOSTYA Look, Uncle – this is how I imagine theatre should be! Simple. Just the trees, the wide, open sky, and in seven minutes exactly – just as the moon rises over the lake… we’ll begin.

It’s perfect.

Unless Nina’s late, then the whole effect’s ruined. Where is she?

He treats her like a child – her dad. She has to break out like a prisoner.

It’s her stepmother’s doing, has him twisted around her little – is that what you’re wearing? This is a premiere! Have you even combed your hair?

SORIN It’s my great tragedy, dear boy – I always look like I slept in a hedge. Even when I make an effort, women are horrified by me. Something’s up. Don’t you think? With my sister. She’s… restless. Do you know what’s going on?

KOSTYA Yes, I know exactly what it is. My play.

Hasn’t happened yet and she already hates it. Even though she’s not read a thing I’ve written. Hates that instead of asking ‘the great Irina Arkádina’, I’ve cast our neighbour’s daughter. Hates that she won’t get to show off in front of her famous boyfriend. That Nina will be getting all the attention.

She’s jealous, that’s all.

And now I’m directing, too! It’ll be a miracle if she can sit there without bursting into flames.

SORIN Come now. That’s – an exaggeration.

KOSTYA Oh, who can understand her? Her psyche could be the subject of academic study. My mother is –

She’s brilliant. Without question. Fiercely intelligent. Driven. But she’s not cold – she’ll disappear into a novel, care deeply for fictional characters as if she knows them personally. Grieve for them when they die. She’s warm with interviewers, generous with fans. ‘I saw your Phaedra!’ ‘YourBlanche DuBois changed my life!’ People weep when they see her in the street. They shake!

But just dare praise another actress in her presence! It’s like you’ve stabbed her in the heart.

And she’s stingy. Pleads poverty while dressed in Prada.

What is there to understand?

She’s bored and bitter and we’re all her enemies.

SORIN Stop! You’ve decided she’s not going to like your play and got yourself into a state. She loves you.

KOSTYA No she doesn’t. She doesn’t love me. She only loves – I don’t know. Applause. Chiffon.

She only loves me when I need looking after. If I’m sick or hurt she’s like Florence Nightingale. Gentle, selfless, present. Undistracted by the hall-of-mirrors of her own narcissism. My mumma.

Otherwise, I’m nothing but an unwelcome reminder of time. Proof that she’s no longer the sprightly ingénue but a menopausal widow.

Plus, she thinks I despise her kind of theatre.

SORIN You do despise her kind of theatre.

KOSTYA It’s true, I do. It’s hollow. Self-righteous. Self-congratulatory. Smug. Sexless. Safe. The same fucking plays over and over. And not because they are ‘eternally relevant’ but because they sell better than new work – no one dares take a real risk. Just because something’s popular doesn’t mean it’s good.

SORIN We’ll always need the classics. Theatre is vital / because –

KOSTYA ‘Vital?’ Theatre isn’t ‘vital’. Theatre is awful. It’s the least ‘vital’ thing in the world. It’s overpriced, elitist, indulgent, outdated and entirely irrelevant to what’s actually happening in the world. It’s dead. Fake.

People pretending to be people.

Pretending to laugh, to cry, to fall in love, pretending there’s a fourth wall where there isn’t, while others watch them, pretending they’re enjoying themselves – everyone pretending – the audience more than the actors! Doing that fake ‘huh’ laugh like ‘Yes, I understood that reference, aren’tI impressive?’ Tutting at the slightest sound, nudging people awake when they snore, as if sleep isn’t the only honest response to what’s happening!

And the speeches.

The same trite, clichéd moral lessons, all tied in a little bow and popped a goodie bag to take home with you.

Vital!

It’s an obsolete distraction that only reinforces the status quo and hastens our demise. It’s hot bathwater on open veins.

The world is ending. Can’t they see there’s a tsunami on the horizon?

If theatre’s to survive, we need new voices.

New perspectives. New forms. It can’t just be – you know – people talking. Theorising.

Discussing ideas. Themes. Portraying love affairs. Petty little problems. No. If we can’t have new forms, we’re better off with nothing. We’re better off – I don’t know.

Setting ourselves on fire.

Look, don’t get me wrong – I love my mother.

I do.

As an actress.

And… as a person.

But, no, I don’t understand her. At all.

I don’t understand what she’s doing with her life. Considers herself a ‘grand dame of the theatre’ but does these dumb movies based on comic books. Voices opinions on everything without the slightest research.

Lives her life in public, takes up all the space, all the oxygen. I need to be able to breathe, to express myself beyond the suffocating context of my mother.

The pressure of her life on my own! It’s humiliating. I’d be happier if she was just an ordinary person. It’s blasphemy to say it but it’s true. I have an ego of my own. Or I’d like to. I don’t know. Who am I? I’m nothing! I’m nothing.

You can’t imagine how it felt to grow up surrounded by famous people – never celebrated, only tolerated. I used to truly believe I could turn invisible.

Dad would’ve understood.

What is it she called him? Mr Mediocrity.

And now she’s dating Alexander Trigorin!

SORIN What do you make of him? He barely says a word.

KOSTYA