In two separate instances during the play, Chekhov evokes the auditory image of "a string breaking" in the stage directions. Whereas a number of characters hear the sound together the first time, there is only one character—whose degree of consciousness is debatable—on stage the second time.
In the second act, a section of stage directions describes the characters sitting on stage in pensive silence. This stillness is interrupted by an eerie sound.
Suddenly a distant sound is heard as if from the sky, the sound of a string breaking, dying away, melancholy.
After the sound, the characters discuss what it might have been. Whereas the pragmatic Lopakhin reasons that it came from the mines, the dreamy Gayef suggests that it was a bird. Madame Ranevsky shudders and calls it uncanny, while it brings the somewhat incoherent Firs to reflect back to "the great misfortune" (his designation for the emancipation of the serfs in 1861). Shortly after, Anya begins to cry. The characters' varying explanations of the sound reinforces their respective characterization.
The ominous sound also reinforces the somber mood of the play, seeming to foreshadow a looming end. This is evident in the characters' responses to the sound, as several of them are negatively impacted by it. The second act is the only act that is set outside, and the sound seems to remind the characters and audience of the world that exists beyond the play's immediate setting. The characters never reach a conclusive explanation of what caused the sound, and their lack of control over the soundscape serves as a reminder of their limited control over their environment.
A similar stage direction appears at the very end of the play, when Chekhov repeats the auditory image of the breaking string with the same exact wording.
A distant sound is heard, as if from the sky, the sound of a string breaking, dying away, melancholy. Silence ensues, broken only by the stroke of the axe on the trees far away in the cherry orchard.
By choosing to end the play on this note, Chekhov promotes the somber, pensive mood one final time. Additionally, he gives the setting a life that exists beyond the characters that inhabit it. Firs lies on stage, but it's unclear whether he's awake, conscious, or even alive. Chekhov seems to explore a question similar to the well-known thought experiment "If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" In The Cherry Orchard, the falling tree is replaced by a breaking string. And, of course, trees are falling and falling in the background, as the play ends to the cherry orchard being chopped down.
Very often, stage directions describe physical and visual elements like the set, props, and character movement—and therefore center on visual imagery. Chekhov's inclusion of this inexplicable auditory imagery in the stage directions captures his poetic style. His enigmatic description of the soundscape—in the part of a play's text that's often more sparse and functional—may suggest that he expected people to read his plays and not just see them staged.
In two separate instances during the play, Chekhov evokes the auditory image of "a string breaking" in the stage directions. Whereas a number of characters hear the sound together the first time, there is only one character—whose degree of consciousness is debatable—on stage the second time.
In the second act, a section of stage directions describes the characters sitting on stage in pensive silence. This stillness is interrupted by an eerie sound.
Suddenly a distant sound is heard as if from the sky, the sound of a string breaking, dying away, melancholy.
After the sound, the characters discuss what it might have been. Whereas the pragmatic Lopakhin reasons that it came from the mines, the dreamy Gayef suggests that it was a bird. Madame Ranevsky shudders and calls it uncanny, while it brings the somewhat incoherent Firs to reflect back to "the great misfortune" (his designation for the emancipation of the serfs in 1861). Shortly after, Anya begins to cry. The characters' varying explanations of the sound reinforces their respective characterization.
The ominous sound also reinforces the somber mood of the play, seeming to foreshadow a looming end. This is evident in the characters' responses to the sound, as several of them are negatively impacted by it. The second act is the only act that is set outside, and the sound seems to remind the characters and audience of the world that exists beyond the play's immediate setting. The characters never reach a conclusive explanation of what caused the sound, and their lack of control over the soundscape serves as a reminder of their limited control over their environment.
A similar stage direction appears at the very end of the play, when Chekhov repeats the auditory image of the breaking string with the same exact wording.
A distant sound is heard, as if from the sky, the sound of a string breaking, dying away, melancholy. Silence ensues, broken only by the stroke of the axe on the trees far away in the cherry orchard.
By choosing to end the play on this note, Chekhov promotes the somber, pensive mood one final time. Additionally, he gives the setting a life that exists beyond the characters that inhabit it. Firs lies on stage, but it's unclear whether he's awake, conscious, or even alive. Chekhov seems to explore a question similar to the well-known thought experiment "If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" In The Cherry Orchard, the falling tree is replaced by a breaking string. And, of course, trees are falling and falling in the background, as the play ends to the cherry orchard being chopped down.
Very often, stage directions describe physical and visual elements like the set, props, and character movement—and therefore center on visual imagery. Chekhov's inclusion of this inexplicable auditory imagery in the stage directions captures his poetic style. His enigmatic description of the soundscape—in the part of a play's text that's often more sparse and functional—may suggest that he expected people to read his plays and not just see them staged.