The Sound Of Water

A drought has been plaguing the crops of Tobias's farm for five years. He believes that the answer to where the water went lies in the soil. Katherine believes the answer lies in the desert and canyons surrounding the farm. One night, Katherine goes into the canyon in search of the missing water, but what happens when a flash flood comes and washes everything away?

Sound of Water is proof that you don’t need an elaborate set to create an atmosphere—mainly because this show has… well, no set at all. But thanks to razor-sharp direction and some clever theatrical choices, it still manages to feel full and immersive.

The technical side was solid: lighting did its job neatly (no surprises, no fireworks), while the sound was consistently strong. The soundtrack and soundscapes were genuinely beautiful—lush, transportive, and layered enough to place us in every setting without a single prop in sight. Honestly, I’d happily stick half the score on a chill-out playlist.

Performance-wise, the cast delivered across the board. The physical theatre elements were intriguing and often effective—though early on, they felt a bit mysterious in that “wait… what am I watching?” kind of way. By the end, their meaning clicked into place, but there was one sequence that never quite justified itself, leaving me scratching my head.

The book was engaging and largely well-paced, building a story that was both lovely and surprising. That said, a little more character depth would’ve gone a long way—at times it felt like the people onstage were there to serve the story, rather than being fully fleshed out themselves. Still, the ending packed a proper punch: shocking, unexpected, and earned.

Sound of Water is an elegant and inventive piece of theatre—beautifully directed, musically rich, and performed with commitment. It may leave you with a few unanswered questions, but it’ll also leave you impressed.