By definition, abstract art does not strive to recreate visual reality. Instead, it uses lines, texture, shapes, color and light to convey a feeling or prompt a reaction.
Will Arbery’s “Plano,” currently being staged at convergence–continuum, can be best described as abstract art. It does not strive to recreate reality as we know it, but uses various theatrical elements to convey feelings and prompt reactions, bending rules and warping traditional narrative structure.
“Plano” first premiered in 2018 at Clubbed Thumb, followed only a year later by an off-Broadway production at The Connelly Theater. It received a largely positive critical reception, drawing comparisons to Anton Chekhov’s “Three Sisters” for its depiction of particular familial relationships, and to filmmaker David Lynch for its surrealist, dreamlike qualities.
The abstract structure of “Plano’s” script means that the plot is somewhat difficult to describe. At the heart of Arbery’s show are three sisters from Dallas, all of whom are struggling to overcome their own demons, curses or ghosts. For 80 uninterrupted minutes, audiences watch the sisters pinwheel through time and rifle through memories as they try to overcome the things that haunt them.
The action takes place on a large front porch (scenic designer Connor Krohn) that serves as the sisters’ homes. Oozing bricks and moldy doors (scenic artist Libby Gabor) act as a backdrop to the action, and continuously shifting lights (Robert Wachala) lend to the show’s eerie air.
Eldest daughter Anne (Carolyn Demanelis) is an intellectually-driven professor, so when she announces that she is pregnant out of wedlock and that the father is a blue collar worker, her sisters are more surprised than delighted at the development. An exceptionally cheery Demanelis plays Anne with a bubbly demeanor and a face that is wonderfully expressive, making her delivery of absurd dialogue often humorous.
Anne cannot seem to pin down her partner, Juan, who sometimes prefers to be called John (Angelluis Centeno). Juan/John often disappears to Plano without explanation, leaving Anne to care for their child and home on her own. Centeno’s Juan/John is upbeat, but aloof, never spending an extended period of time onstage.
Middle daughter Genevieve (Katie Atkinson) is responsible, capable and troubled. When her story begins, she has an idyllic marriage with Steve (Michael Frye). However, as this relationship quickly devolves, so does Genevieve’s already limited penchant for bullshit. Atkinson portrays Genevieve as tough, responsible and reliable, but with an underlying disgruntlement that continues to chip away at her resolve. Frye plays the multi-faceted Steve with rage and passion one moment and zombie-like warriness the next.
The youngest daughter is the kind, faith-based Isabel (Ariana Starkman). Isabel has a strong relationship with Catholicism, but has failed to develop an especially strong relationship with anyone else. Starkman’s wide-eyed expressions and reserved movements speak to the character’s uber-sweet shyness, vulnerability and innocence. Unlike her sisters, Isabel is not in a romantic relationship, but she does reluctantly cohabitate with a faceless ghost (Sam Bartlett).
You read that correctly. “Plano” features a faceless ghost…as well as mimics, endless slug infestations and invisible husbands. At first, these weird and wild horror developments feel like inventive metaphors for religious, sexual and generational trauma–ala “The Babadook”–until they are no longer treated like metaphysical experiences, but actual, tangible occurrences that haunt the sisters.
“Plano” embraces a feverish, rule-shattering and dream-like nature that continuously upends your conclusions and proposes more questions than it provides answers. Even the appearance of the sisters’ troubled mother, Mary (Molly McFadden), late in the show doesn’t serve to tie up loose ends but instead further tangles the narrative.
It’s unlikely that any two members of the audience will emerge from “Plano” with the same interpretations and impressions–such is often the case with abstract work. What audiences likely will agree on, however, is the impressive abilities of the cast.
Under the direction of Kari Barclay, the seven-member cast of “Plano” masters their rapid-fire delivery of Arbery’s dense, poetic and emotional dialogue. The show moves quickly, hardly ever resting for breath, and convergence–continuum’s cast stands up to the challenge.
“Plano” is often described as darkly humorous. While there are moments of levity that will make you chuckle, the humor takes a passenger seat to the density and quick pace of the script–it can be difficult to prompt laughter from audience members who are actively trying to determine the rules and reality of the world in which they are being immersed.
Abstract art isn’t for everyone, and neither is abstract theater. While it may not appeal to every audience member, especially the theater novice or those who prefer traditional narrative structure, it is a unique, experimental piece of work. convergence-continuum prides itself on presenting “performance that challenges the conventional notions of what theatre is,” and in this regard, “Plano” certainly fits the bill.
“Plano” runs through June 13, 2026, at convergence-continuum, 2438 Scranton Road, Cleveland. Visit convergence-continuum.org or call 216-687-0074 for tickets, $23-30.