Performing society bonds survivors of sexual violence
Bassoonist Katelin Coleman had a dream career in classical music. Living in Copenhagen, she freelanced in orchestras all over Scandinavia, Germany and the Netherlands. She never saw herself returning to Canada.
“Then I was sexually assaulted by one of my direct superiors and colleagues who worked in the Danish Radio,” said Coleman. “I reported him and, to make the long story short, I wasn’t fired, but my contract wasn’t renewed and they replaced me with a male student. Before I had reported him, the talk was that my contract was gold and I could stay as long as I wanted.”
Not only was the experience emotionally shattering, it profoundly affected her career as the chances of encountering her assailant was likely. Obviously, issues like trust and safety among colleagues were major. So Coleman decided to return home to heal and come up with alternate plans. One of these was to take back the experience by bringing it out into the open, as well as those of so many others in her industry. In January 2019, she posted the idea of forming a professional performing ensemble comprised and managed by musicians who are survivors of sexual assault.
The Artemis Musicians’ Society was born.
Unlike any other ensemble, the group comprised of Coleman, former heavy metal band oboist Morgan Zentner, violinist Joanna Lee and spoken word artist Chronfused (Julie Hintz-barrera) are all survivors of violence. And they let that be known with pride as they reclaim what others attempted to take from them.
From its beginnings, the project has expanded its boundaries to the point where its latest performance will be a remote collaboration video of the ensemble playing a new commission from composer Jordan Nobles, joined by 13 other musicians from six different countries.
The video of the performance is scheduled to be released in early June.
All parts for the work will be recorded at each participating musician’s home and then receive a final mix by a Netherlands-based sound engineer at Polyhymnia International. The state-of-theart production company is based in the historic carriage house in Baarn, which housed the Philips Classics recording centre, founded in 1950. Polyhymnia was the muse of sublime and sacred hymn — the word means many voices or songs — which makes it all the more appropriate to a group performance of this sort.
“I never chose to come back to Canada, but I guess you could say Artemis is my lemonade, and it’s becoming more than just making something of a negative entity and becoming part of a new identity,” said Coleman.
“In the years before I started it, I thought ‘someone should do that, it’s a good idea,’ but didn’t think it would be me. You could easily fill a number of orchestras with sexually assaulted or harassed musicians just in their orchestral lives alone, let alone those who suffered abuse as children or elsewhere.”
When it became apparent that no one else was going to fill that void and form this kind of performing society, she realized the idea wasn’t as obvious as she thought it was. So Coleman made that Facebook post and was startled with how quickly she heard back and how many artists she heard from. Many had similar experiences, often more than one. Coleman was also assaulted as a child.
This makes the statement of the Artemis Musicians’ Society far more encompassing than merely professional abuse and assault. It has become a vehicle to address the far bigger issue of sexual violence in our world.
“When it first happened to me, the initial idea was to try and talk to my colleagues and try to sort it out and repair the situation,” she said.
“But even though the guy who did this to me admitted he did it to me, I was somehow pathologized for having mentioned previous sexual abuse. It was as though that information defined me and, since my residents’ permit was tied into having the job, I didn’t have any options once I was unemployed.”
Coleman prefers to think of Artemis Musicians’ Society as something other than one of those “therapeutic, touchy-feely outlets.” She resents that approach.
“It’s not about the whole language of ‘you’ll be fine one day, damaged little bird,’” she said. “I like to think of it as a f— you and a challenge to those people. Why are you talking to me like I’m the one who needs help when it’s the situation and this world that needs help already?”
Since forming, Artemis has performed two shows and had planned a large-scale event drawing awareness to and honouring the Korean comfort women for May. Coleman had travelled to Korea to interview some of the surviving women who had been forced into sexual slavery by the Japanese military in the Second World War and the idea was to mix the audio with a unique score. She had received funding from both the City of Vancouver and Creative B.C. for the project. Among the celebrated international musicians involved is acclaimed violinist Lara St. John, who recently released her new album Key of A on Ancalagon Records. Players come from Canada, Denmark, England, Finland, Sweden and the Netherlands
“Now we are in the process of reorienting the idea with a remote recording and pivot it somehow to use everyone’s remoteness in ways that enhance the event artistically rather than being a sad replacement for a live concert,” she said. “There is the core four of us locally, but there is also the larger group who responded globally to my initial response. And given how none of us are playing in our usual groups, it felt logistically do-able to put this together.”