“The Nina Variations”

Welcome to Advanced Theater 101. The first assignment will be to view a play directed by local resident John Geoffrion. The play is “The Nina Variations,” which is part of The Late Night Series at The Players’ Ring in Portsmouth, running through July 15. The purpose of the assignment is to observe a quality performance while learning about the history of a 111-year-old play. 

“The Nina Variations,” written by Steven Dietz, is based on the “The Seagull,” by famous Russian playwright Anton Chekov. First performed in 1896, “The Seagull” centers on the romantic and artistic conflicts of four main characters: aspiring actress Nina, fading lead lady Irina Arkadina, experimental playwright Konstantin Treplyov and famous writer Trigorin.

Chekov’s success with “The Seagull” was partly due to his willingness to experiment and go against the dramatic grain of the 19th century. He often kept graphic action offstage, forcing the audience to use their imaginations when a murder or suicide occurred. Chekov also made his characters speak in ways that would skirt around issues instead of addressing them directly, a concept known as subtext.

“The Nina Variations” presents 42 alternative endings to the famous last scene of “The Seagull.” A large projection screen erected to the right of the stage keeps the audience updated on which scene the actors are performing. The scenes take place several years after the characters initially meet. In each variation, Nina (Kate Kosteva) and Konstantin (John Geoffrion) continue to struggle with their artistic and romantic aspirations.

The barren stage, sparsely set with an end table and lamp, a writing desk, a jar of pencils, a pencil sharpener and a stack of books, allow focus to fall on the acting. While Geoffrion often remains offstage in the plays he directs, his presence in “The Nina Variations” is fantastic, and the chemistry between him and Kosteva electrifies the performance.     

Throughout the play, Nina and Konstantin’s emotions rise and fall like a fast-moving roller coaster. Konstantin’s writing pales in comparison to that of his rival Trigorin, who not only outwrites Konstantin, but also outcharms Nina. “Worse than hating him, I envy him,” Konstantin says. Nina is knowingly and unknowingly cruel to Konstantin. She dangles her love in front of him and pokes fun at his plays by saying they lack form. “There aren’t any people in them and nothing happens,” she says. Konstantin tries to justify the absence of form in his writing by stating that true art comes from the search for form. 

This struggle with the theory of form extends into the performance itself. While the two characters onstage debate the definition and merits of form, the audience is exposed to a production whose form ebbs and flows like an unpredictable river.
Nina also struggles with her chosen art form, and with each variation it becomes less clear whether she actually loves Trigorian, or if she just misses the young, carefree girl she was when she and Trigorian were together. Once an up and coming actress, her star has faded with age and the death of her child. She struggles to recall the clarity and inspiration of her younger days, which were filled with passionate love for Trigorian—until he got her pregnant and abandoned her. After their brief affair, Nina’s talent follows the relationship into the trashcan. Trigorian predicts this outcome years earlier when he describes a seagull killed by Konstantin for no apparent reason. “A young girl lives all her life on the shore of a lake. She loves the lake, like a seagull, and she’s happy and free, like a seagull. But a man arrives by chance, and when he sees her, he destroys her, out of sheer boredom. Like this seagull.” 

Throughout the performance, the two main characters address each other, themselves and the audience. Several times, Konstantin steps away and addresses the audience in a detached way. This sort of post-modern self-evaluation allows the audience to hear the characters’ internal thoughts and reactions to the conversations they have onstage.

At the close of a recent performance, Geoffrian opted for one more bow in front of the audience. The seats of the small theater were filled with about 20 people, many of whom were easily recognizable as actors from past performances at The Players’ Ring. This intimate crowd applauded the performance, easily grasping the play’s complexity. “All that strange flesh crashing in appreciation,” Nina said.