How many productions can you remember when the two leads ended up having a romance offstage as well as onstage? And vice versa, when a positive relationship between two lead actors ends up disrupting (or sometimes accelerating) an onstage romance?

Certainly I’ve noticed this before, and sometimes I notice the opposites are sometimes true. That a romance onstage can be accelerated by tension offstage, or that two nemeses in a production can become great friends offstage. I’ve always thought that relationships offstage have dramatically affected those onstage, and vice versa. If there’s any production that will put this hypothesis to the test, it’s this one.

In our Uncle Vanya, how will the interactions between student actors, stagehands, and production staff change the onstage theatrical landscape? This appears to be one of the guiding questions for our version of the play.

For example, how will Cynthia and Faye’s (nascent) friendship affect the way that they observe each other in the “meta-performance/rehearsal?” Will they also have a “onstage” friendship as well?

Will empathy between the two “actors” translate into our production? That is, will Faye–watching from the edge of stage–feel deeply for Cynthia (playing Sonya) when Sonya learns from Yelena that Astrov does not return her love? Will she mirror Cynthia’s sorrow as a member of the rehearsal company? Will Faye also look to the actor currently playing Astrov with longing, or will she look to his offstage counterpart?

As for Vanya, I see a lot of self-criticism and self-hatred (as a product of his regret for not having fulfilled any of his ambitions) in the way he talks about himself. So I wonder, will the actor not playing Vanya look upon his active counterpart with certain disdain? With loathing, even? A sense of rivalry? One of the most painful experiences someone can have is to watch oneself make a mistake (in Vanya’s case, one of inaction), but not have the power to remedy that mistake. The actor not playing Vanya might have an awful time–and express it–while watching himself struggle but being powerless to help.

Even more, will the relationships between Chekhov’s characters realize themselves in the relationships solely between those actors currently not playing their roles?

I expect that during the rehearsal process we will be asked to create “actor counterparts” to our named roles. No doubt these modern-day, younger-version personas will mimic some of the characteristics of the roles we have been casted to play. This might or might not manifest in subtle moments between “actor counterparts” during the “warm-up” phase, the transitions between acts, etc., moments that parallel the action of the last–or coming–act. Will our “pre-show gossip,” if there will be any, encapsulate the current condition of the Voinitsky estate?

There’s one more layer to consider, I think. As a cast, we will inevitably form strong bonds with each other (during the “real” rehearsal process). Will tensions, attractions, discomfort, and trust directly apply to our work in this “experimental” version of Uncle Vanya? I wonder, should we be rehearsing (and I mean the “real rehearsal” now) as our “fake” or “onstage” actor personas? That is, should I practice treating Mike or Nick as “actor-Vanya” would treat “actor-Astrov,” or as Vanya would treat Astrov? When, in rehearsal, do we decide, “OK, we are ‘rehearsing’ now, so get into your ‘actor’ characters?” Or is the transition to this “theater group” mentality a smooth and seamless one?

Just thinking about this gets me all confused. That’s the great part, in my opinion: the experiment could go in any number of directions.

Another question I’ve started asking myself: How will I create this ‘actor’ persona and update Vanya to the modern day? Who is the Vanya of 2013, of Duke University? Does he trudge in ten minutes late to rehearsal, hungover, cursing himself for procrastinating on his term paper? Will this be the person that first strolls onstage in our version of Uncle Vanya? Should I start rehearsing as this person?

The more I think about these on- and off-stage parallels, the more I think about the way the TV show Glee is structured. I’m no aficionado, but my family has sat me down for more than a few episodes. What I find so magnificent about the writing is that the glee club’s “rehearsals” match up with their “off-stage” or “out-of-class” relationships so well. Especially because we also are involving a lot of musical performance and emphasizing the comedy in the script, our production might actually have a lot in common with this TV show and others like it.

I also think of the exchange between Sam Caywood and Nick Prey in GOD, when Hepatitis says to Diabetes: “We’re characters in a play and soon we’re going to see my play . . . which is a play within a play. And they’re watching us.”

To which Diabetes replies, “Yes. It’s highly metaphysical, isn’t it?”

“Not only is it metaphysical, it’s stupid!”

(To the audience) “Would you rather be one of them?”

“Definitely not.”

-Thomas K