The Cherry Orchard

Anton Chekhov, Gary Owen

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781786823052
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Littérature
• Subtopic: Théâtre britannique

Pembrokeshire, 1982. Things are going to change. This radical reworking of Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard places the action in early 80s Wales, at the dawn of another revolution – the Thatcher regime. Bloumfield sits on the sun-kissed south Pembrokeshire coast; a rambling, ramschackle old manor house where Rainey raised her children, surrounded by golden beaches and lush green orchards. But the death of her beloved son and husband sent Rainey fleeing to London, abandoning what remained of her family. Now, with the bank threatening to repossess, Rainey's daughters drag her back to Bloumfield. Rainey will have to face her ghosts - and her furious daughters - or lose everything. This reworking of Chekhov's play was first performed at the Sherman Theatre, Cardiff.

TWO

The next morning.

GABRIEL wanders into the room.

GABRIEL: Hello?

No response.

Turns to look at books on a shelf. Then suddenly –

GABRIEL: Who’s there?

GABE’s looking to one side of stage. DOTTIE enters from the other, not stopping.

DOTTIE: Morning.

GABRIEL: Well, quite.

DOTTIE keeps moving.

GABRIEL: Coffee’d be a treat.

DOTTIE: Yeah, I need a couple to get myself [going] –

She cuts herself off.

DOTTIE: You want me, to make you a coffee?

GABRIEL: A little milk, and two / sugar –

DOTTIE: One thing at a time, keep your hair on –

She’s heading off.

GABRIEL wanders back to the bookshelf.

Rubs dust off the top of the books.

Is intrigued by a title. Pulls the book out

Opens it. Begins to read.

Is very quickly appalled by what he reads.

DOTTIE enters with the jug from a filter machine, a cup, sugar and milk, all on a tray.

GABE quickly puts the book back in the shelf.

DOTTIE: You alright?

GABRIEL: Yes just… admiring the shelf.

DOTTIE laughs at him.

DOTTIE: Why?

GABRIEL: It’s wonderful.

DOTTIE: Worth something?

GABRIEL: I’d think so.

DOTTIE’s been waiting for GABE to come and get his coffee. He’s clearly not going to. So – as they speak – she pours a cup, adds milk and sugar, gives it a stir, clatters down the spoon.

GABRIEL: But it’s the – the worksmanship. The skill. The care.

DOTTIE: So what coupla hundred?

GABRIEL: Much more.

DOTTIE: Really?

She hands him the coffee.

GABRIEL: You are a darling.

He takes a sip. Not good.

GABRIEL: Mm. Okay.

DOTTIE: So… thousand maybe?

GABRIEL: My grand-father commissioned this. And the chap was weeks making it. Sawing, planing, sanding, the detail here – you see?

He’s pointing to a little flourish on the shelf.

DOTTIE: Catches the dust a bugger there.

GABRIEL: Yes it does. Possibly someone should clean it.

DOTTIE: Yeah you’d think.

GABRIEL: And no one bothers these days. It’s your chipboard rubbish. Glued together and comes apart in your hands.

DOTTIE: ’Swhat people can afford.

GABRIEL: But it’s a false economy – I’ve just said, just now, it comes apart in your – but this. This was made when I was a boy. And it’s still in great shape.

DOTTIE: Yeah, it’s grand. If you can afford it.

GABRIEL: But such things were affordable. In those days it wasn’t about turning a profit. The man that made this – the craftsman – he did the job, to do the job.

DOTTIE: What he do to eat then?

GABRIEL: Obviously he was paid for his labour, I’m saying – he worked to make a beautiful thing. And his reward was not so much in his wage packet, it was the knowledge that he had made, this beautiful thing –

DOTTIE: And Christmas they’d let him up the manor for a tot of sherry and maybe, he’d catch a glimpse of it on his way out.

GABRIEL: And the knowledge that it would last, long after him –

DOTTIE: He’s dead is he, bloke that made it?

GABRIEL: Well I mean –

GABRIEL realises he has no idea.

GABRIEL: I don’t know. I presume so, but –

Gathers himself.

GABRIEL: I’m saying, that craftsman worked, late into the night, long beyond the point he was making money out of it, to make something functional and beautiful. And we don’t do that any more. And we’re the worse for it.

DOTTIE: Craftsman? He was a waste of space.

GABRIEL: I beg your pardon?

DOTTIE: Might as well be down the pub drinking his wages as in his workshop, slaving over something he’s not getting paid for. His kids are going hungry either way.

GABRIEL: Well if everyone thought the way you do –

DOTTIE: Everyone does.

GABRIEL: I don’t think / they do –

DOTTIE: (Over him.) Read a paper, mun.

He stares at her.

DOTTIE: What?

He drains his cup.

GABRIEL: Couldn’t get me a top up, could you?

She takes his cup, goes back to the table. He watches her w...