Three Sisters

Chekhov’s “Three Sisters” has never been seen like this before: so lost in a dream, so poetic, so open, abstract and playful. Kriegenburg directs the play in strong theatrical images as a piece of art far removed from all Chekhovian traditions. A bright, shimmering hazy atmosphere prevails, such as accompanies the memory of childhood days, and the scenes are therefore sometimes flooded or sharply over-lit. Everyone speaks in quotations, as if they are speaking of things already experienced. They are made even stranger by wonderful doll masks – huge, sad, children’s heads – which strip the characters of all psychology and their identity but at the same time open up new areas for play, sense and association, as only theatre can. Images of transcendent beauty sit next to excessive outbursts and sad slapstick routines familiar from Kriegenburg’s theatre. It’s a swirling, whirling Chekhov. “Russendisco” and dance of death. Alluring, disconcerting, bewitching.