Writer: Anton Chekhov
Director: Stijn Van Opstal
Adaptation: Stijn Van Opstal, Scarlet Tummers, Tom Dewispelaere, Francis Geeraert
Anyone who has written descriptive captions for theatre or film will recognise what Belgian company Olympique Dramatique are doing with the title of [seagull]. Within the world of captioning, those familiar square brackets distinguish sounds and other auditory cues that exist outside the spoken word: elements a captioner must explicitly label because they cannot be heard.
Directed by Stijn Van Opstal, this version of Chekhov’s play is performed by deaf and hearing actors together. It opens entirely in Flemish Sign Language. The characters Chekhov are reoriented around sound and the way bodies meet., and the physical life of this tragicomedy plays out in front of us, quite literally. Glasses set down on a table, feet on a wooden floor, bodies shifting: all of it materialised on a digital board beside a volume symbol.
Then, near the end of the first half, Masha (Lobke Leirens) opens her mouth and speaks to Arkadina about her planned trip. As the deaf and the hearing keep talking past and toward each other, the subject of the revival comes into view. Communication, and its failure.
After Konstantin’s attempted suicide, come the arguments between Konstantin with Arkadina, Arkadina with Boris Trigorin, and the captions turn into word-for-word translation that no longer parses. “I respect not for him.” “His writing not high but low.” The second half is much shortened. Konstantin recounts what has happened in sign language while Masha interprets aloud. This time, the captions disappear altogether. Then Konstantin meets Nina, and the distance between them, or what has changed in her, is made concrete: she can no longer sign. It gives his final act of self-destruction more weight.
Since it was written, The Seagull has drawn countless readings of its closing tragedy. Playing to a room where most of the audience can hear, Van Opstal’s directing suggests that what gets lost in translation is not a matter of language but a permanent human failing, the inability to hold a true conversation. Barking covers the captions on the screen. The English subtitles slide, on purpose, into ungrammatical literal translation. The chain the production keeps in view is the familiar one: Medvedenko loves Masha, Masha loves Konstantin, Konstantin loves Nina, Nina loves Trigorin, Arkadina loves Trigorin, and Arkadina controls Konstantin. Everyone loves someone who will not love them back. The root of the tragedy sits elsewhere, though. By refusing to understand or accept the love offered to them, they perpetuate the very chain of unrequited desire that traps them, as the same refusal is aimed back at them. Arkadina’s phone interrupts Konstantin’s play. Scenes freeze without explanation. In these moments Van Opstal exposes a paradox in theatre itself, where clarity and ambiguity are virtue and sin at once, and where miscommunication and communication arrive together in every delivery.
Runs until 11 August 2025 | Image: Contributed
The Reviews Hub Star Rating
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9
