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‘A meadow. An old, long‐abandoned, lopsided little chapel; near it, an old bench. In the background, the road to the Gayer estate. To one side poplars loom darkly; soon the sun will be setting.’ Such are the instructions by Chekhov for the opening of the evocative second act in his timeless play about imminent change: ‘The Cherry Orchard’. Change, good or bad, is inevitably thrust upon man, by his own instinctive need to impose it.
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1985
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