Wanuskewin

… was the title of the concert by the Amadeus Choir of Great Toronto that I attended last night. It is a Cree word that translates to “seeking peace of mind”and its message is timely.  I think we can all agree that our soul indeed yearns for a respite from the ongoing catastrophe. But it is not to be had with drugs, distraction or denial.  It is a path through chaos demanding our greatest reserve of courage and determination and needing others by our side. Its voice is not simply conversation or news analysis, but is best expressed through the arts— dancing, poetry, painting and yes, choral singing. 

This was a groundbreaking concert that brought together three indigenous composers from the Cree people in present-day British Columbia, Alberta and Manitoba. Most of the compositions had to do with the natural elements of earth, water, wind and fire. As one of the composers, Sherryl Sewepagaham described it, her piece is not about the wind, but came from sitting with the wind and feeling its voice speak through her. It renewed her determination for her voice to be the voice of the voices no one hears anymore or listens to. 

 

Chris Dirksen followed the Homage to Wind with her own seven-part piece about Water, featuring her cello alongside violin, piano, flute, French horn, drum set and the 100 voice choir.

 

Another composer, Andrew Balfour, suggested to the audience that we were not listening to a concert, but participating in a sound ceremony. I like that! It’s a good two words to describe what I aim for in my Orff classes and workshops. We were there not to be entertained and simply applaud, but to bear witness to what’s going down and what’s rising up. He wrote an exquisite piece about trees, as well as adapted a Johannes Ockeghem canon and Purcell piece. 

 

It felt like a historic event to have these three representing their ancestry and their contemporary music, which clearly fuses their Western upbringing with indigenous elements. And that’s all anyone would want to do and deserves to do. Be granted the right to define themselves instead of having others define them. Andrew shared that he had been stolen from his family to be “re-educated” at a church-run and sanctioned Indian Residential School (IRS)— at 6 months old. This was a common practice in the 20^th century, a purposeful program of cultural genocide that continued until the last IRS was closed—in 1996! As described in a government Website about the subject:

 

 ” While the treatment of children varied across the different IRSs, they frequently experienced harsh and denigrating conditions In addition to physical, emotional and sexual abuse and neglect, children were stripped of their identities, made to feel ashamed of themselves and their culture, and denied the use of their language, beliefs, and ways of being.”

 

So while Canada seems like paradise compared to its southern neighbor, it too, has a lot to answer for. Its national anthem was first just in English and then later there was a French version translated thus:

 

O Canada!
Land of our ancestors
Glorious deeds circle your brow
For your arm knows how to wield the sword
Your arm knows how to carry the cross;
Your history is an epic
Of brilliant deeds
And your valour steeped in faith
Will protect our homes and our rights.

 

Hmm. I think to First Nations people, the arms wielding the sword killed their people and culture and all the time carrying the cross representing Jesus' message of "brotherly love." That's pretty far from an “epic of brilliant deeds” and hardly protected the “home and rights” of the diverse indigenous populations. Apparently, to attempt some political correctness, there are translations now in Cree, Inuktitu, Ojibwe and Mi’kmaq, but I can’t imagine any of these people’s singing the words above in any language.

 

By contrast, last night’s event was an authentic step towards healing and reconciliation and I found it moving, musically and otherwise. Andrew was particular eloquent when he talked with us and reminded us that the choir were not functioning as allies, but as genuine brothers and sisters. 

 

It reminded me of a passage from To Kill a Mockingbird, when as a child, Scout’s older brother Gem is trying to classify people into different groups and Scout finally says: 

 

 “I think there’s just one kind of folks. Folks.”

And Gem replies: 

 

"That’s what I thought, too, when I was your age. If there’s just one kind of folks, why can’t they get along with each other? If they’re all alike, why do they go out of their way to despise each other?"

 

Why indeed. Well, that’s a matter for another post. But meanwhile, last night, we were all just folks mutually bearing witness to truth and beauty and I believe that helped give us all a moment when we felt peace of mind.