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Lisa C. Ravensbergen

Laara Sadiq

Mercedes Baines

Maiko Bae Yamamoto

Margo Kane

Donna Spencer

what we do

An Artistic Evolution

When you decided to train in theatre arts what were your original dreams?

When I was younger I dreamed of being a star, but many years later I found myself working in the aboriginal community around aboriginal education, with youth and people in the adoption circle. And, although it was a tremendous honour, the political, social, emotional, and intellectual challenges of bureaucracy took their toll on my soul, heart and spirit. I realized that I needed to find my creative voice again. I dreamed about balancing unique traditions and expression of my Aboriginal self (and community) with contemporary and innovative western artistic practice. I wanted to speak to life and hear its reply; I didn't want to live a life half-lived, filled with "what ifs". I wanted to develop interdisciplinary skills that would allow me create my own work. I wanted to figure out what my life questions were and then see how many different ways I could attempt to answer them. I dreamed of acting, directing, dancing, singing, writing, simply creating. I dreamed of working with inspired artists and considered starting a theatre company with other First Nations artists.

Has the training, the doing, the being out there, shifted the dream out of artistic evolution, or necessity? What do you see?

I think it has shifted from both artistic evolution and necessity. It seems that art, like life is about evolution and it's always shifting because it has to and because it wants to. I am so curious about the work and its relationship to Indigenous expression that I expect to continually evolve in my work. When I went back to school, I recognized that I wouldn't have much opportunity to fully explore or integrate my culture with my studies and so I focused on developing tools and a language that would help me refine my creative vision once I graduated. So now that I'm done, I am overwhelmed at times with all the thoughts and questions that have built and stored up for the past three years, but I also feel a new kind of freedom; a huge door has opened for me and it's exciting to be in this place that's pulsing with potential. I feel compelled to be here and explore within these parameters of performance, culture and community. I am particularly interested in developing a creative process with community members who're not traditionally involved in western theatre practice, especially elders. The generations of our voices are growing stronger and our process is refining itself into something unique because, like our community, it must in order to survive. If the work we do on stage is a reflection of the space we share as an Aboriginal artistic community, we are diverse, multi-disciplinary, fractured, healing, inspired, innovative, intuitive, spiritual and storytellers. How can I exclude myself from that work? It's simple, I can't.

In our conversation, you did say that you were the only "Native" person in your graduating class? What was that experience like? What benefit did this isolation create for you as an as an artist? What holes did it leave?

It was an intensely liberating challenge.

Theatre school was so daunting at times because colonization has developed these educational/ institutional frameworks that have systemically denied the legitimacy of our voices as women and First Peoples. Not to mention the monopoly the dominant society has built around language, creative expression and process. It was lonely and frustrating to be the only one asking questions that related to my culture and traditions. It was painful to let go of traditional teachings of balance, wholeness and healthy living simply because 'the show must go on.' I prayed a lot.

And yet, my teachers and colleagues were open, inclusive, and really respectful of my individual journey. They honoured my confusion and continued to give me tools that they knew I would try to re-shape to fit my own process. They never asked me to be like them. I found that even if I momentarily considered their point-of-view and explored it's relationship to what I know of who I am, I created something new. They asked me to consider how all the experiences on stage transcend one another - like they do in life. They used language to articulate my creative journey and they challenged me to evolve new discourse.

It feels like I'll be debriefing my experiences for years to come and yet, I already recognize a heightened hunger, curiosity and passion to claim my space. My experiences forced me to take ownership of my own learning and I've discovered I can do and be much more than I ever thought possible, as an artist and as a woman. Training has created a drive to reconcile the struggle between spirit and mind, white and coloured, between thought and action. I have a burning desire to work with other established and emerging aboriginal artists who will not only inspire my own work, but also work to encourage a larger community of aboriginal creative expression. It feels like I've been secluded for so long that when I look around me now, anything is possible. And that's cool.

A chicken, or egg question. What came first the Artist, or the Indian? What comes first in your work? Does it matter?

I think it's important to understand who you are and where you come from as a way of helping you know where you need to go. Yes, I am an artist. Yes, I am Anishnaabe. Yet, I'm not sure that I can segregate my identity succinctly enough to say one comes before the other; that feels too narrow for me. I think art is about expanding, challenging boundaries, questioning conventional thought and process. If I say, "I'm an artist first", or "I'm Anishnaabe first", it feels like those statements will limit and determine the fate of every decision following the statement. So maybe the questions that do compel me as an Indian and an artist are, "Who am I?" "What is this moment or series of moments about?", and "how do I express this understanding?" I think much of what interests me is the "putting together" after the "taking apart" and the process, the risks, the demands this requires. I think the fact that I am an Indian and an artist only means that these realities influence one another and inevitably shape the way I see and express myself on and off stage. At various times in my life, one may seem to take precedence but so might other aspects that make me, me. As much as I analyze, consider and ask questions really, in most cases, I just am; I am Indian, I am an artist, I am a woman, I am a daughter, I am a wife, I am. This, with the potential of who I can be, extends beyond my comprehension, that's where my curiosity sources from.

Do you think there is space for people of "other" on the stage in Vancouver? Or do you feel you have to make your own space?

I believe theatre reflects and influences the heart and soul of life and though I am committed to the potential theatre has to transcend intellectual and cultural boundaries, my theatrical experiences mainly riff on or from a predominately masculine, Euro world view. I think this is valuable but not representative of larger racial, political, social or spiritual realities. Granted, this work can still transform me on a universal level (love, hate, greed, grace, regret) but very rarely does it source itself from our First Nations community, or affirm our history and the journeys of Aboriginal women without appropriating, objectifying, or stereotyping to some degree. I often believe that people come to theatre because it is a safe place to see reflections of themselves - the good, the bad and the ugly. Everything I experience goes through the worldview of my "Indian filter" and to be honest, it's a lot of work to re-adjust my filter in the theatre because I'm constantly doing it outside the theatre. I want more theatre to speak to me using my world view, and if it won't or can't, then yes, I need to be pro-active and determined to create space for myself that ideally, reaches beyond our brown borders to touch and transform the dominant society. It seems like a good time to return the favour.

What are you looking for?

I want to test new ideas and re-invent old ones. I'd like to find and be in a place to dialogue with different points-of-view, and establish a unique Indigenous presence within structures that have historically denied the legitimacy of my voice as an Ojibway/Swampy Cree woman and artist. On the one hand, I want to work with as many different people as I can. I've been working and studying in the Euro-mainstream for so long that I have a sincere longing to find a work group - people from different disciplines and First nations that will inspire and collaborate on work that demands an answer from the universe and the Creator, people who are just as curious as I am about space and time, ritual, circles and cycles, movement, story, identity, family, community, transformation and growth. I'm looking for my path through life, and through my work as an artist. When I listen to a respected elder I think they must have lived deeply to be able to speak profoundly and with such simplicity. That's something I'd like for my life... to be able to see the heart and truth of experience, accept it for what it is and express it in such a way that anyone can receive it.