In different periods of one's life as a director - as well as of a spectator or reader - one finds in Chekhov something which seems particularly significant at a specific moment in time. I have now done two productions of Uncle Vanya: the first, in 1969, at the Central Soviet Army Theatre (now the Russian Army Theatre) in Moscow; and then the second production in 1991, in Turkey at the Istanbul Municipal Theatre. Each done in different countries, and at different times. In those intervening years, I have never been parted from Chekhov, whether in my thinking or in my practical work. I directed Three Sisters in Turkey (1988), and The Cherry Orchard as a television production (Moscow, 1976), as well as in the theatre in Kirgizia (1983), in Turkey (1986) and in Poland (1997). But my memories of those first encounters with Uncle Vanya remain uniquely precious. When I recall my memories, thoughts and experiences of that work, I always feel something had changed in that period of time, both in me and in my perception of the play. Yet at the same time, something has also always remained immutable.