dulcetly...notes on a bookish life

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 murd...