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Friday, Apr 26, 2024

Anna Karenina Masterfully Translated

Author: Chase Kvasnak

"Anna Karenina," performed this last weekend in the Center for the Art's Seeler Studio Theatre and directed by Cheryl Faraone,professor of theater and women's and gender studies, was undoubtedly impressive.
Written by Helen Edmundson and published in 1992, the play is a three-hour interpretation of Tolstoy's 700-page novel, itself a tale of two characters, Anna Karenina and Constantine Levin. The novel is thought to be an autobiographical sketch of the couple.
The two characters are foils of one another: When Anna is irrational and seduced by illicit love, Levin is rational and something of a traditional romantic. Yet at the same time their quests for love lead them to question the value of life while simultaneously extolling the virtues of it — a kind of paradoxical notion.
Edmundson's play, however, should not be expected to replace Tolstoy's version but should be seen as an exploration of it.
The play's opening scene makes this idea apparent, where Anna, played by Erin Kunkel '03, meets Constantine Levin, played by Peter Schmitz, visiting assistant professor of dance. This scene represents a chronological distinction compared to Tolstoy's novel, in which this meeting is not actually depicted until the end of the book.
Perspective in narration is another major adaptation Edmundson makes. The stories of Anna and Levin's lines are told by their respective characters in a sort of explanatory dialogue. The action of the play, not a flashback but an alternation between the surreal dialogue between the protagonists to that of reality, is catalyzed by the repeated question, "Where are you, now?" The narration of the play was brilliant, as Anna and Levin are self-conscious of their lives being viewed by one another and therefore subject to the influence of each other.
Another principle of Edmundson's adaptation is the dramatizing of Levin's story, for as she stated, "In choosing to tackle both strands, we were creating problems for ourselves. Levin's story is not, in itself, dramatic." This seems to be the difficulty in Edmundson's interpretation, mirrored in Faraone's production. The play presented the rational and moral Levin in a manner where melodrama is synonymous with passion. And if the characters are simultaneously foils and parallel to each other, the role and degree of dramatization applied to Levin's character is a difficult to judge.
The quality of acting all around was commendable. Kunkel and Schmitz were on stage for virtually the entire play, although sometimes passively as voyeurs into the lives of one another, while most of the other players had multiple roles. Versatility between roles was thus a necessity for nearly every player. For instance, Kunkel and Schmitz had to display an internal change in character when switching from their active role in the plot to their narrative role, while players such as Cassidy Freeman '04 were cast in roles varying from Princess Betsy to the stock servant.
Senior Andrew Boyce's set design created a versatile, modern and symbolic scene that was not only fitting to the action of the play, but gave it a new dimension. The rectangular stage, set between the audience, was comprised of only a red and black stained wooden floor, two irregular yet complimentary black rocks, which were puzzle-pieced together during the play to act as an elevated platform and a scattering of pilings at various heights.
Often, two or three scenes took place simultaneously in different areas on the stage. The minor scenes were typically on the periphery of the stage, but helped give the main scene depth and development.
Dance Artist-in-Resident Amy Chavasse was the movement choreographer of the play, and her talent was apparent in a number of scenes. Her style focused on rhythm and metaphor. It was most obviously displayed in the scene at the race track, Anna's suicide on the train tracks and the final scene featuring Anna, Levin and Kitty.
The scene at the racetrack (probably the most famous among critics) parallelled Anna's love affair with the fall of a horse. Kunkel held nothing back, and the erotic and very metaphorical scene powerfully foreshadowed Karenina's downfall through the symbolism of Count Vronsky's (Ben Correale '03) horse breaking its back mid-race.
In this scene all players took the stage and clapped in unison to create a rhythm that was reflected later in the play when Anna threw herself before a train. In this scene all the company, except Anna, Levin and Kitty, joined to symbolically become a train keeping the rhythm of the machine on tracks by stomping their feet. Anna's death and Kitty's birthing, again simultaneously manifested on the stage, led to the final scene of the play.
Edmundson's stage directions are "Anna enters. She puts her arms around Levin and leans her head against his back. She looks up." At this point Chavasse took this allowance and brought Anna, Levin and their stories together, interlacing their hands while she expressed Edmundson's third principle in her adaptation, which she discovered in going to Russia: "'Levin must be a part of Anna, one man told us, 'and Anna must be a part of Levin,'" as stated in the evening's program.


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