The Convent ends with an oddly tacked on yet stirring coda. Until that moment, this play takes place in a medieval convent in the south of France. The time is the present. This location is home to a spiritual retreat for women. They come to heal, to learn and even to ingest a hallucinogenic to facilitate discovery and sharing. When the ladies arrive, they pick a card in order to choose a nomen. Historical female medieval figures such as Claire of Assisi and Teresa of Avila will be their personalized guides on this journey.
Mother Abbess encourages her crusaders to let their selected spiritual leaders teach them how to repair their lives. Over meals these women share their thoughts and aspirations. There are games intended to help them find a way to heal or to grow. More than one of the women have unresolved traumas involving their mother. The convent is designed to be a safe space for diving deeply into oneself in order to emerge rehabilitated. While religion and medieval cloisters are clearly this retreat’s physical inspiration, the contemplative mysticism is the central driving force.
The plot revolves around six women, some of whom have been here before. Archetypes are standard such as the bad girl and the shy one. Relationships form. Tensions emerge between characters. Mother Abbess pushes them hard to find their individuality within their own souls, not using anyone else’s definition. This play does not unfold organically and the plot twists seemed slightly overwrought in order to create a major story arc. Frankly, I often disengaged from this material but then found myself pulled in and continually intrigued by this production.
In Raul Abrego’s excellent set design, stone walls had gothic windows on both ends of the stage. In the center, the space easily morphed from an outside garden to a dining hall. Katherine Freer’s multi-layered projection design added both symbolic religious imagery and vast landscapes signifying remoteness. Directed by Daniel Talbott, this so-so play has been presented in an exceptionally fine and fluid production. Every actress was memorable.
As spiritual guru Mother Abbess, Wendy vanden Heuvel weaves a fascinating combination of ferocious feminist and spectral goddess. Patti was the character I most identified with as the aggressively cynical nonbeliever. Samantha Soule’s performance beautifully balances complicated and unresolved external and internal conflicts as The Convent reached its coda. What is the job of a woman? In a breathtaking final monologue, a modern day mystic in a New York City subway station answers that question. I imagine playwright Jessica Dickey hopes women will hear her plea loud and clear.