Playwright Tanya Saracho’s rapid rise through the theatrical ranks parallels character Dunia’s rise through the social strata in El Nogalar, a modern, Mexican adaptation of Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard. One difference is that the playwright’s rise is not so devised.
Boston-cultivated and Chicago-culled Mexican playwright Saracho resists being called Mexican, Mexican-American, Chicana and other terms deemed to be limiting. She is foremost a writer. Yet her choice of playwrights to admire might be surprising to some.
When Saracho first got a hold of Chekhov’s final play, The Cherry Orchard, in college along with the rest of his Caucasoid canon, Saracho declared Chekhov to be the most Latino playwright she had encountered. “The women, the way they lamented, the way they whined...it seemed very Latino to me.”
When Chekhov first wrote The Cherry Orchard at the turn of the 20th century in Yalta about an aristocratic Russian family facing imminent loss of wealth, he likely didn’t foresee that his characters would resonate so wholly with 21st century border-town Mexicans experiencing ever-encroaching cartel violence.
There are many comparisons between 20th century Russia and 21st century México, including economic inequality, class conflict and endlessly wondering who to trust. You are forced to place your trust in both landlords and maids, yet either or both could have the power to unearth you. And either or both are themselves subject to an even greater power, which in 1900 Russia was the State and in modern México is the mafia.
Written as a comedy, The Cherry Orchard was first directed as a tragedy, and so for the 100 years since has walked the line between the two. This border between comedy and tragedy is just one of the many borders at issue here. There are lines between mothers and daughters, men and women, families and neighbors, bosses and workers – lines that are almost all, at some point, crossed.
In both the Chekhov version and Saracho’s version, the one line that stays fixed is that of guardianship over the land. Those who till the soil become owners of the soil. The workers are the last trees standing.
El Nogalar is Spanish for “the pecan orchard.” Why pecan? Perhaps because while cherries blossomed in Eastern Europe, pecans flourished in México. The first pecan orchards were planted in México in the 1700’s, and pecans were for a time more valuable than cotton. And also, perhaps, because cartels and social inequities and human nature are all tough nuts to crack and such cracking requires outside perspective and force.
While the casting in this West Coast premiere of El Nogalar is a tiny bit curious – Yetta Gotttesman who plays the mother seems too darned young – the acting is terrific, with the stand-out performance on opening night being that of Sabina Zuniga Varela as Dunia.
Varela captured the kind of depth and range that a maid who plays the social ladder like an accordion must have in order to win everyone’s trust. The other performances by Justin Huen as Lopez, Isabelle Ortega as Valeria, Diana Romo as Anita and Yetta Gottesman as Maité, despite her youthfulness, were also excellent.
The set, which is minimalist in a modernist way, is perfect in that it doesn’t overpower the action. It is understated, which supports Russian notions of frugality, yet colorful, to represent Mexican flavor. And the most striking colors, interestingly, are red and blue, perhaps to signify the Mexican-American gangs who have ties with the cartels who have people, not just in México, but also in Los Angeles, on edge.
In a final analysis, one reason to study such classic plays as The Cherry Orchard is to recognize that the times really haven’t changed much because people really haven’t changed much. Power, domination, loyalty, longing, displacement and revenge all still rule our collective destiny. While an orchard of trees is cultivated by humans, humans are cultivated by their nature.
El Nogalar, directed by Laurie Woolery, plays at the Fountain Theatre through March 11.
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