Coast Salish artists have collaborated to create an ambitious cross-cultural rendition of Mozart’s most popular opera

On a cold and rainy mid-January evening, in the hall of Holy Rosary Cathedral at Richards and Dunsmuir streets, director Robert McQueen is guiding singers and dancers through their steps for the upcoming Vancouver Opera production of The Magic Flute. Choreographer Michelle Olson is teaching Papageno (baritone Etienne Dupuis) and Papagena (soprano Angela Welch) the steps to their Eagle Dance, as three performers spin around them, waving branches of cedar. It’s not a moment that’s written into the original; but then again, there hasn’t ever been a production of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s most popular opera quite like this, with the cast draped in Coast Salish–influenced costumes and a set reflective of the landscape of the West Coast—not to mention the inclusion of spoken Halq’eméylem (a Salish language).

This production has been long in the making. Conceived three years ago by Vancouver Opera general director James Wright and former director of artistic administration Randy Smith (who died in September), the project has involved countless hours of research, cross-cultural dialogue, and artistic experimentation, spearheaded by McQueen.

“When Jim Wright and Randy Smith invited me to come in two-and-a-half years ago to meet with them,” recalls McQueen over dinner during a rehearsal break, “and they presented this idea of possibly creating this production that would invite First Nations artists to contribute, my initial question was the appropriateness of somebody non–First Nations, which I am, coming into a project like this—whether or not that was just wildly inappropriate.”

The director spent some time speaking with friends and colleagues both in and outside the First Nations community about the concept. “Overwhelmingly people were very supportive of the idea,” he says. “The caution was, or the urging was: be conscious, ask permission, don’t assume, ask more questions than you have answers.”

It’s advice the opera company took to heart, contacting the First Peoples’ Heritage, Language and Culture Council and setting up an advisory group made up of First Nations artists and leaders. Which isn’t to say the concept was immediately greeted with open arms by the aboriginal community.

Cathi Charles Wherry, arts program coordinator of the FPHLCC, remembers feeling a little bit concerned when she was first approached by Vancouver Opera. “There’s been a history when mainstream companies or entities work with aboriginal people that they will pluck what they want and move on, so often there hasn’t been meaningful involvement,” she explains. “So even though the project sounded really exciting, we were pretty cautious.”

This time, though, Wherry says First Nations people have been given a truly collaborative role. Calls went out through the Native community for expressions of interest in the production, which brought people such as costume codesigner John Powell of the Kwak-waka’wakw First Nation and choreographer Olson of the Han First Nation, as well as four First Nations interns. Olson, artistic director of Raven Spirit Dance, a contemporary-dance troupe rooted in aboriginal tradition, in turn brought in Bob Baker, a Squamish elder, as a cultural dance adviser.

“Only one of the four dancers is First Nations and the others have found the spirit,” observes Baker. “My role was to kind of incorporate that spirit and give them an understanding of where we’re coming from in regards to looking at the various powers of the animal kingdom, their various attributes, and why we pay respects to them”¦how they represent clans of our people. I shared various stories and legends and some of the dance movements.”

All of which speaks to the sensitivity and respect with which the project has been pulled together. But the big question, come Saturday night (January 27) when the show opens at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre, will be: does it work? After all, the European opera’s plot—a young man on a fantastical quest to rescue his true love—has long been noted for its Masonic imagery and is often read as an allegory about the sovereignty of paternalistic wisdom. What’s the link to First Nations culture there?

McQueen says he initially struggled to find the connection between Mozart’s tale and the myths of the Coast Salish people, but quickly realized that forcing such an affiliation would be a mistake. Instead, he chose to view this Flute as a classic “hero’s journey”, and present it as such in a First Nations context without any forced metaphors.

“What I wanted to do in inviting the artists to come and participate,” he says, “was to feed them enough so that their imaginations could be set free—to have a group of artists working from the foundation of their tradition, but springing from that their own imagination. I was pretty clear with the opera that this was not going to be a kind of museum reproduction of ”˜authentic this’ and ”˜authentic that’. ”

McQueen is emphatic that while the production’s visual presentation may be a break from the stereotypical opera mould of period costumes, Mozart’s story will be recognizable, and the music will be performed as written. “We want to honour and respect the intention of the original text and music,” he insists, “and at the same time allow a unique presentation of the material that is uniquely about this part of the world.”

Despite the staggering $1.4-million bill attached to the production—the most expensive ever mounted by Vancouver Opera—one gets the sense that this collaboration has been more about the journey than the final product. McQueen says this show is the most intense directing experience he’s undergone and that he could keep working on it “forever”. And Baker and Wherry both say they’ve been pleasantly surprised by the project’s success.

“It’s really developed with aboriginal input. It’s really been informed through consultation and collaboration with artists right from the beginning, rather than coming with a predetermined idea and sticking a feather in it,” says Wherry, who points out that the opera was written around the era of the first contact between Europeans and Pacific Northwest First Nations. Since that time, the history of our First Nations has been one of decimated cultures and wounded spirits. Yet here, in the rainy cathedral hall, the feeling is not of timidity, animosity, or resentment. As the cast is taken through its paces, dancing an Eagle Dance to the rhythm of a waltz, there is an overwhelming sense of joyful optimism. Says Wherry: “There’s been a lot of bridges built.”