fragmentation and form
We've seen some really great theater of later even outside of musicals, including last night, a performance of The Drowning Girls by a tiny storefront theater troupe, Three Crows, over at Raven Theatre up here on the north side. At some point, it came across my FB feed and sounded interesting--a story about three dead wives drowned in the bathtub and the man who killed them. I was already excited to see it, but it may have been my fave thing we've seen on stage this year (and that bar is pretty high since I've loved others so much.) Performed in a simple black box space awash in blue light and eerie sheer fabric suspended from the ceiling, the main object on stage is a clawfoot tub, in which the three women move in and out and, finally, to their demise during a trial inquest detailing the real facts of the crimes against them. Instead of water, they use teal organza. Instead of a male actor, a hat that they take turns donning as they weave the fragmented story of their murders and the expectations of society at the turn of the century.
Obviously the subject matter of victorian murders with a feminist bent was right up my alley, but what struck me most was the weaving and fragmentation, the flow of a limited group of actors who wove it masterfully. The spareness applied to everything, the set, the lighting, and even the costumes. Starting out in shifts, the performers donned the parts of a single, tragic wedding dress. It was haunting and beautiful and I wished I could write a poem or a story that did what it did so well.
As we were leaving out on the sidewalk, I asked J if he liked it and while he said he enjoyed the performances and stages greatly, the freneticness and fragmentation of the script itself frustrated his more linear-minded way of taking things in, while it totally engaged mine (this may be why we are sometimes at odds over certain things in entertainment..lol..) It did make me think of certain projects where I've (intentionally or unintentionally) strove for a similar feel in terms of p-o-v and narration. There's a quote, I think, from Alice Notley about disparate selves and how we tell stories that it also brought to mind.
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