THEATRE REVIEW: GIIWEDIN
10 Apr'10

Aboriginal opera sets the bar

JOHN COULBOURN - QMI Agency
Rating: 3.5 out of 5

As one of the very few contemporary Aboriginal operas around, it is probably not surprising that GIIWEDIN in its world premiere doesn’t promise to elbow aside the cornerstones of traditional opera — Verdi, Mozart, Puccini, Britten, Wagner and the boys.

But what is surprising in this new production from Native Earth Performing Arts and an Indie(n) Rights Reserve is how little, in the final analysis, the dearth of First Nations’ operas has to do with making this one of the best of the genre.

Based on the production that opened Thursday on the Theatre Passe Muraille mainstage, it’s safe to say this is a benchmark other entries in the field will now have to strive to meet.

GIIWEDIN (which translates from the Anishnaabemowin/Algonquin tongue as “North Wind”) is the collaborative brainchild of librettist/ composer Spy Denomme-Welch and composer Catherine Magowan. Stretched over five decades and more, it’s the story of the ongoing collision between a white world determined to bend nature to its will and an Aboriginal world, represented by a 150-year-old woman named Noodin-Kwe (Marion Newman). A woman of wisdom and tradition, she survives on her ancestral land around Temiskaming, living in harmony with nature, as represented not only by the Weeping Forest, but by the wolves and the bears as well.

It’s an idyllic life, until it’s interrupted by the arrival of the Indian Agent (Ryan Allen) with news that a new railroad will run right through her world. The fact that he is completely ignorant of that world is demonstrated when he runs afoul of the hibernating bear Mahkwa (Catherin Carew), who returns him to Noodin-Kwe in exchange for a haunch of venison.

After a brief dalliance (hey, it’s been awhile — and even 150-year-old women get lonely), the Indian Agent goes on his way protected by a wolf pack, led by Mahigan (Nicole Joy-Fraser), leaving a pregnant Noodin-Kwe in her forest home. But though the Indian Agent tries to protect her territory, the evil Minister (played by an ailing James McLennan and sung by Martin Houseman) tracks Noodin-Kwe down and tries to drive her from her home to exorcise his own demons.

It’s a complex tale, made more so by the medical setting that brackets the proceedings and it makes for a sweeping metaphor; a people stripped of its birthright by well-meaning civil servants (the Indian Agent is casually bilingual, nicely balancing blame), betrayed by their own, lobotomized by drugs and alcohol, and finally finding hope in a new generation determined to keep its story alive.

In fact, it might just be too sweeping. Even though musical director Gregory Oh and director Maria Lamont do a fine job of fusing a score that blends First Nations’ rhythms, traditional fiddling and European influences with the strong-yet-simple collaboration of designers Camellia Koo (sets) Jackie Chau (costumes) and Michelle Ramsay (lighting) — it seems to be too much story crammed into a too-brief telling. None of which stops a committed, high-energy cast from doing its level best to bring it all to life. Most members are triple-cast, and are required to stretch their voices over several octaves to make beautiful music outside of conventional comfort zones.

And in the end, it is that determined and hardworking cast — as much as the charm of the music and the delightful earthiness and hope of the libretto — that lingers long after the curtain has fallen, and keeps the story humming in one’s mind. It may not be Wagner, but it has a certain ring to it, nonetheless.