Stepping Into Sónya
My first introduction to the work of Anton Chekhov was during a text analysis class at USC lead by the late, great Jack Rowe. It was my first semester of the MFA in acting program and we spent almost three weeks reading different translations of The Seagull. I was fascinated at the meticulousness that Jack used while combing through the various texts, noting here and there what a difference a word can make, how one translation may lend itself to give more context to a character, how the rhythm of the translations can change the pace and tone of the play. In our second year of the program we worked with the phenomenal Stephanie Shroyer on scenes from Chekhov. I played IRINA ARKADINA, a successful stage actress with a strained relationship with her son in The Seagull. Stephanie focused on how our relationship with the architecture of the set can help convey our intentions and emotions on a deeper level. In our third year of the program we performed Three Sisters as part of our three play repertory. I had the honor of playing MASHA under the direction of my now mentor Kate Burton. During rehearsals, backstage and onstage I read Anna Karenina while exploring my character who was navigating loneliness, longing and infidelity. My first professional play out of graduate school was El Nogalar at The Fountain Theatre in LA. Playwright Tanya Saracho adapted Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard from Russia to the Mexican state of Michoacán on a Pecan Orchard. I played DUNIA, a very observant and feisty maid, based on the original character of DUNYASHA.
Looking back on my history with Anton, I realize how much his work has influenced my love of text analysis, character development and uncovering universality in plays from different cultures. And now I get to perform the role of SÓNYA in my first professional Chekhov production of Uncle Vanya at The Pasadena Playhouse directed by Michael Michettie.
There is something about the characters, the existential crisis, the land, love and loss that Chekhov creates, that crosses cultural lines with connection and relevance. First produced in 1899, Uncle Vanya still speaks to audiences today, young and old alike. For a wonderful read about the timeliness of Chekhov’s work check out an article by Charles McNulty in the LA TIMES: Commentary: How Anton Chekhov became the playwright of the moment. You can take a read of one translation of an Uncle Vanya script HERE. (*Please note this is not the translation we have used for our production, to read the first 5 pages of that translation, with an option to uncover the rest of the text by joining Course Hero, click HERE)
Now on to SÓNYA…
As you will see in Chekhov plays the characters are introduced with a number of names; nicknames, some formal and informal and some names of endearment.
To read more about understanding Russian names click HERE.
SÓFYA ALEXÁNDROVNA (Sónya, Sónechka, Sóyushka, Sophie)
Sófya means “wisdom” from ancient Greek “sophía/σοφία.
Most everyone in Uncle Vanya calls me Sónya, with the exception of our Nanny who calls me Sónechka, Dr. Astrov address me in public as Sófya Alexándrovna, and my step mother, Elena, calls me Sophie only once. These little clues can give so much information to us as actors to understand our relationships with and towards others. Nanny has known me most of my life and uses her nickname as a term of endearment, whereas Elena chooses to use my French name, Sophie, as a means of respect and to begin an important conversation about our strained relationship. Dr. Astrov uses my full name as a formal and respectful address. Most everyone else calls me Sónya, which I’ve interpreted as her childhood nickname after a conversation with my castmate who plays Elena. We examined just two lines from the play and it turned into an entire investigation of how we are all addressed by others. Playing this character and looking at the world through her eyes gives me a taste of being someone who is often overlooked for her contributions and usefulness. Making note of how people address me, talk about me when I am in the room, or avoid talking about me, gives me nuggets of her character that I am able to weave into my work each night. The table work during rehearsals for this production was so rich, inquisitive and seemingly endless, the type of work I love to sink my teeth in to.
As the play opens we meet Sónya upstage right, sitting on the piano bench playing a guitar and singing a song that she composed. This concept is not in the original script but straight from the imagination of our director Michael Michetti. This translation cut a specific character that plays the guitar through out the story and Michael felt that he wanted to keep that instrumentation, and that Sónya was the character that made most sense to execute his idea. To be honest, this scared me when I got the audition for the role. “I have to sing a song, AND play guitar?!?”
I have been playing guitar for over a decade now, and I song along, but usually just to myself or a few people. And I have had to sing in plays before: as FRIDA KAHLO in Still Life by Harry Clark, I had to sing a beautiful mournful ballad in Spanish, accompanied by live guitar, while drinking pulque with Georgia O’Keefe; as the GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PAST, Ebenezer’s mother in Kevin Moriarty’s adaptation of A Christmas Carol, I sang a longing version of Auld Lang Syne, again accompanied by a professional guitarist, as well as being a part of the cast chorus that would sing numerous Christmas carols through out the play. In You Never Can Tell by George Bernard Shaw, the whole cast sang By The Sea as I strummed along on the Uke. However, this is the first time I would be playing the instrument and singing by. my. self.
For the audition I played my own version of Angel from Montgomery by John Prine. It is one of the few songs I knew by heart at the time of the audition and I felt the lyrics had echoes of the longing and tone of Uncle Vanya’s world
I submitted my audition via self-tape which included two of Sónya’s monologues and a video of me playing guitar and singing the song. When I received the callback for the role I was relieved that we were able to do it live via Zoom. I was able to work on the two monologues with the director as the casting director and the artistic director of Pasadena Playhouse observed. I had prepared another song on guitar to try and show some range. Again, I chose a song that had a wistful tone: Flowers in December by Mazzy Star, however they didn’t need me to play again since they already had the video of the first song. Now it is part of my 5 song repertoire that I play as a warm-up before each show. (The others include: Fever by Peggy Lee, Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd, Blood and Fire by the Indigo Girls and of course Angel from Montgomery.)
We worked with an incredible composer, Amanda Leigh Jerry, to create Sónya’s song. The music that also scores the play over the speakers when Sónya isn’t playing live is rooted in this original song. It is based on a Russian poem by Anna Akhmatova, that our director found, a copy of which adorns my dressing room collage of images, cards and words.
When I first received the tutorial video of the song I was terrified. She composed a song that required finger plucking, whereas I was only used to basic strumming, and her voice was like an angel, they key felt so far away from my comfortable range. After two days of stress dreams and a few tears I realized I was learning it, slowly but surely. 48 hours after receiving the video I was able to stumble through the three moments in the play where I sit on stage and play and sing. Over time the muscles in my hand started to ache less and less and I was able to take my eyes off my fingers and play the progression. I had a live meeting with Amanda over Zoom and her positivity really helped boost my confidence. She gave me some tips and tricks and along with gentle and helpful reminders from my director I was able to execute Sónya’s song. Now, don’t get me wrong, every night I am on the verge of a panic attack just before curtain, to have to be the one to launch the start of a show, singing and playing the guitar is a nightmare and very uncomfortable. However, over the past weeks of our run I find that every night is different as I step into Sónya’s skin and sit on that piano bench and play. Sometimes I mess up a little bit, or my voice is a little off key, but I remember that I, as Sónya, am sitting alone in my house, telling a story through song that I “wrote” and am working on. In Act II, I sit up stage left as other characters enter, and I am still in my own space, alone and singing. For Act III, I play on stage in front of my Uncle and Stepmother and by this point I am warmed up and confident enough to play in front of people. Sónya, like myself, learns, creates and eventually shares her gift of story through song.
One of the most fascinating aspects of Sónya as a character is when she speaks and when she doesn’t. There is a lot of analysis online about this particular character, her desolation, depression and lack of action, most of which I didn’t find helpful or necessary for this journey. Instead, I leaned on the text, listened to what others say about her and flew from there. In Act II, there is a late night scene between Dr. Astrov and Sónya, by now the audience has learned that she is very much in love with the Doctor and we have learned that he has fallen out of love with life. His character has a lot of language in this scene and she every so often just speaks a line or two. In the latter half of Act III Sónya doesn’t speak for seven pages! It is in the moments of silence that I find gems about this character almost as much as through the lines that others say in reference to her and those that she speaks herself. There is also one very curious moment where I speak directly to the audience, and this happens right after my almost silent scene with Dr. Astrov. The audience’s reactions and or responses to that soliloquy influence my journey night to night.
One of the most stressful parts of the audition for this role, besides the singing and guitar playing, was that I was asked to do the final monologue of the whole play. Sónya, having lost so much, revealed so much, decides to contain her hurt and emotion as much as she can to tell Uncle Vanya that there is still hope. The tone of this final moment cannot be determined in a vaccume, but as an actor auditioning, I had to make a choice. What I appreciated most is that the director worked with me during the callback to give me an aspect of her mindset and we just got to play. It is a very well known monologue that has been done all over the world, in many languages and adaptations and my job is to make it feel as though I have never said these words before. It is a beautiful challenge, night after night to travel to this moment in the play. I try to keep in mind the direction of Michael Michetti who reminded me that although we are in a large theatre, I cannot forget the intimacy of that moment, my direct connection with my Uncle. There is no need to proclaim or force the lines just because it is the last moment of the play, I simply have to believe, breath and speak from my heart.
This play goes deep, and although it is not a heavy drama, there are moments that stay with me as I walk off the stage for different scenes, especially right after the end of Act III. The second half of the play, Act III and IV are filled with pent up emotions and truths that bubble to the surface and explode all over the stage and pierce the hearts of all involved. The clean up is painful, rewarding and promising, but there are still questions and reflection. There is a lot of hope in this play, at least from the lens of Sónya, and I cling to that when the other emotions begin to drag me, Sabina the actor, down. There are personal experiences that echo with the play and ignite memory. As performers we conjure this emotion, night after night, and we also have to know what to do with it after we walk off stage.
To prepare for this show each night I do a physical and vocal warm-up on stage, looking at the empty house and wondering who will join us to hear this story. I play my songs on the guitar and give a kiss to the set before heading down to the dressing room. Once I get down there it is time to get into my body microphone and Act I costume. I listen to music (Billie Holiday, Miya Folick, Aaron Frazier) and sing along, I spray rose water everywhere, look at the images I have taped up around my dressing station, hold crystals close to my heart and breathe.
One of my favorite moments in live theatre is when the actors leave the stage after curtain call and meet up backstage on their way to get out of costume. We share grunts, and sounds and laughter and recount little weird things that went astray, whatever the expression, we release. We head down to the green room and everyone steps into their dressing room and out of their character. For my after show playlist I cycle between Black Sabbath Vol 4, & The Pixies Doolittle. I unbraid my hair and put it up, trade out Sónya’s jewlery for my own, hang up her dresses and turn off the lights and say goodnight.
Then we do it all again the next day.
For tickets and show times please visit The Pasadena Playhouse and join us for this very special production running through June 26th, 2022!