We find ourselves surrounded by perhaps the most extraordinary cherry orchard in all of Russia, so remarkable there is a reference to it in the encyclopedia. Imagine an endless ocean of white and pink fragrant blossoms. Picture a cherry orchard that sprawls over some 2,500 acres, or approximately two and a half Golden Gate Parks. This is the expanse of Chekhov's setting for The Cherry Orchard.

Chekhov's orchard, however, is of a specific kind. The slightest nuance in Chekhov's title, one that does not translate into English, distinguishes a productive, profitable orchard from one that is beautiful but barren. Our orchard is the latter; it is one that, as Stanislavsky says, "brings no profits. It hides in itself and in all of its flowering whiteness the great poetry of the dying life of aristocracy... [it] grows for the sake of beauty, for the eyes of spoiled aesthetes." This "poetry" is beautifully executed with Chekhov's unmistakable form of realism. His is not a realism of contrived and complicated plots brimming with suspense; it is the reality of everyday life. Chekhov explains that, "In real life people don't spend every minute shooting each other, hanging themselves and making confessions of love. They don't spend all the time saying clever things. They're more occupied with eating, drinking, flirting and talking nonsense-and these are the things which ought to be shown on the stage."

Director Bruce Williams and the performers have endeavored to accomplish this task. Throughout the rehearsal process, Williams continually stressed that the characters simply needed to talk to each other and not act. The result is our presentation for you.

We thank you so much for your support and for taking an evening or an afternoon to celebrate with us.

William McCandless