What was it to be a woman in 1645? In 1842? In 1999? What about in our millennium? Having begged, bargained, and seized more power than ever, women expect and are expected to be more fully realized, more intelligent, more professionally successful, not to mention more beautiful and fit, more loving and fertile, and for more years. Women till the fields, rule the boardrooms, make movies, write novels, head governments, arouse ardor, lead protest marches, build automobiles, care for their husbands and the elderly, give birth to and raise nations of children.
Women also commit murder. Multiple murders are not beyond them. What drives women to commit such crimes? Statistically, murder and mayhem are the purview of men, while the life-giving experiences of pregnancy, birth, and nurture are unquestionably the arena of women. Still, the feminine creator/destroyer is prominently featured in religious literature, in folklore, as well as in historical and current events. Think of Kali or the Wicked Witch. Remember Lizzie Borden, Aileen Wuornos, Susan Smith and Amanda Hamm.
Murder is certainly the most heinous of crimes. And murder isn’t pretty, isn’t funny, isn’t feminine. Is it? Certainly, murder might be seen as an expression of ultimate power. It is also the Rubicon that women, bringers of life, are morally, ethically and constitutionally quite fit to cross. Such women are the subjects of Serial Murderess.
Tragic, comic and riveting, Serial Murderess uses music, song and rich language to make vivid the dark lives of three killer women. Each act details a new character, born into a different age and social standing, all of them sharing a taste for the ultimate sin. Serial Murderess explores their fears, and how love leads their way along.