MOHAWK-FRENCH CONFLICT MAKES BITTERSWEET MUSIC
Corey Payette once again ventures into C anada’s early clash of culture
In the midst of this country’s exciting Aboriginal cultural renaissance, some of the most eye-opening work is happening here in B.C. One of last year’s signature events was the premiere of Corey Payette’s moving residential school musical, Children of God, at the Cultch’s York Theatre.
Now Payette grapples with another troubling chapter of Canadian history in anew musical at the York. He and cowriter/co-lyricist Julie McIsaac tell a compelling story about the Mohawk and their conflicts with the French in 17th-century Quebec. As the title indicates, Les Filles du Roi also focuses on the French brides-to-be “sent by the king,” fille Marie-Jeanne (Julie McIsaac) explains to Mohawk Jean-Baptiste (Raes Calvert), “to populate the New W orld.” After a perfectly timed pause he responds, “It’s already populated.”
A musical about politics, gender, culture, power, religion and violence, performed and sung in three languages, the play alternates moments of brilliance with sections sorely in need of clarification and linguistic unravelling.
Though Jean-Baptiste speaks their language and trades with them, the French still consider him a “savage.” His sister Kateri (Kaitlyn Yott), training to become clan mother of her people, struggles to gain her brother’s respect. The French see her only as a hea then to be converted.
Facing her own challenges, Marie-Jeanne ultimately rebels against the rigid system and a brutal marriage. Disciplinarian Madame Savoie (Laura Di Cicco) tries to keep her in line along with six other filles who theatrically transform into French soldiers and Mohawk women. English trader Clarke (Andrew Cohen) mediates between the French and Mohawk.
W hen Marie-Jeanne becomes an outlaw and the Mohawk siblings confront colonial violence, the three find common cause across language and culture in an optimistic ending tempered by historical realities.
With a piano and onstage string musicians, Payette — who also directs — creates some magical musical scenes against the backdrop of Marshall McMahen’s transformative set and rich costumes, aided by Patrice Bowler’s elegant movement design.
Among the highlights, the performers and musicians come together in a dignified procession singing prayers in beautiful harmony and counterpoint. Later the French women dance their desire for freedom and selfhood, and the Clan Mother (Chelsea Rose) leads the Mohawk women in ap owerful song welcoming signs of spring.
The actors have fine voices, though afew difficult passages in Payette’s score led to some shrieky singing on opening night.
The central issue in terms of audience reception, besides confusing plot points, is that so much of the dialogue and song is in French or Kanien’keha, the Mohawk language. English surtitles are projected on both sides of the auditorium. But I found myself looking up to read translations almost as often as I was attending to the characters onstage. Though beautifully sung, the French songs left me unaffected because I had to read their lyrics.
Granting both sides their linguistic integrity is admirable. It’s especially important for us to hear some Mohawk as part of what Payette calls “indigenizing the narrative.”
But why does anyone, including the English Clarke, have to use French in this play? Even the Parisians in Les Miz sing in English.
It may be multicultural heresy, but I would defer to theatrical convention and have everyone speak and sing primarily in English to maximize the play’s dramatic and emotional effects for a largely anglophone audience.