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Taken out of context, it sounds like the stuff of endless nightmares. In the story that inspired The Royal Winnipeg Ballet’s T’əl: The Wild Man of the Woods, a mysterious figure lives in the forest, spending his days kidnapping children from a nearby village and sticking them in a basket made of writhing live snakes. Sticky tree pitch glues them in place until they are ready to be pried free, cooked over a fire, and eaten. 

To West Coast–raised choreographer Cameron Fraser-Munroe, the tale is a beautiful one, so loved that he used it to create the ballet T’əl: The Wild Man of the Woods, making its debut in Vancouver at the end of this month. 

“Something that I love about this story is that it’s not only for the entertainment of the person that you’re telling it to, but it’s for the entertainment of the whole family. For me, I do remember being afraid of T’əl—we grew up hearing it many times as kids, and that was largely due to Elsie Hall, the narrator. The story was, of course, illegal under the potlatch ban, but she made sure that she passed it on and that we kept it as part of our culture.”

Fraser-Munroe grew up with the story of  T’əl as a member of the Tla’amin Nation in Vernon, where, early on, he gravitated toward the arts, studying Ukrainian, grass, and hoop dancing. 

Because it’s been passed down as part of oral tradition by different communities, the exact details of the tale sometimes vary. 

“Depending on where you go, T’əl is also a woman. But I grew up with T’əl as a man.”

Proving himself something of a prodigy, Fraser-Munroe joined the Royal Winnipeg Ballet when he was just 15. Since then, he’s performed with companies like Atlantic Ballet Theatre of Canada, and created works for National Ballet of Canada and Ballet Kelowna. 

In 2022, after being appointed as choreographer in residence by RWB, Fraser-Munroe was asked to create a full-evening production for the season. 

“I wanted to do something that would be epic enough for the main stage,” he says. “That’s what was exciting about this commission. It wasn’t part of a triple bill, and it wasn’t in a black box. It was in the full concert hall for the main season of the Royal Winnipeg Ballet. I needed a story that could fill that hall, and make use of the 26 dancers and the full Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra.”

The choreographer also knew that he wanted to do something original in an art form that often defaults to tradition and the seat-filling work of ballet giants like Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky and Igor Stravinsky. Key for Fraser-Munroe was finding the right tale to bring to the stage. 

“There are lots of stories we have—lots of them centre around coho, or raven, or eagle and the lessons that they learned,” he says. “But I needed something that involved a community. For me, T’əl is built around a community, the loss of these children being kidnapped, and the efforts to get them back. So that was the starting point—which of these stories is going to fill the stage, which is going to have a wide reach.”

Part of the appeal of T’əl: The Wild Man of the Woods is that you don’t have to know the story of T’əl as he knows it to have a frame of reference for the work. Fraser-Munroe notes that many different cultures have a variation of T’əl. Some North Americans know the character as Sasquatch or Bigfoot. Elsewhere, it’s known as Yeti in Asia, Yowie in Australia, and a Woodwose in Europe. The choreographer suggests that makes T’əl: The Wild Man of the Woods relatable to audiences from different backgrounds.  

“Whether it’s a Sasquatch or a Yeti, there’s always a hairy man in the woods,” he says. “There’s always someone out there who will kidnap you and eat you. That’s what makes this story special, and what makes it able to be toured around B.C., even to communities that didn’t grow up with the story of T’əl.”

And making T’əl: The Wild Man of the Woods for Fraser-Munroe is that work is Indigenous-led on multiple fronts. Providing the original score is 2-Spirit cellist-composer Cris Derksen, with New York–based Navajo designer Asa Benally responsible for costumes inspired by the culturally significant cedar trees of the West Coast. 

“What’s interesting is that, simply from a ballet standpoint, it’s doing something different with the technical skill of Chris Derksen—a composer with 20 years of experience who is Juno-nominated and had debuted at Carnegie Hall," Fraser-Munroe says. "And Asa Benally, the costume designer, graduated from Yale with his masters. When you have that technical skill with a groundedness in community, of course the work is going to speak in a unique way. We need to be investing in these kinds of  artists, and that is ultimately the payoff—audiences looking at something that is not Swan Lake, that is not The Nutcracker that you will find anywhere in the world. That has value.”

Providing the narration (in both Ayajuthem and English) for T’əl: The Wild Man of the Woods is 94-year-old Tla’amin Elder Elsie Paul. Fraser-Munroe is thrilled will be making the trek to Vancouver for a performance, calling her contribution to the internal rhythm of the show invaluable.

T’əl: The Wild Man of the Woods has moments where the dancers go all out—no surprise considering that mythical child-eating monster who lives in the woods isn’t exactly the stuff that sedate bedtime stories are made of. But the work also recognizes the importance of centering oneself with moments of introspection. 

“Having 26 dancers going full out to orchestra and pow-wow in these beautiful costumes takes you to a place where they are going five out of five, and sometimes even a six out of five,” he offers. “So coming back and sitting with Elsie Paul’s narration is integral to the audience being able to blend moments seamlessly.”

Paul’s spoken-word passages are also important from a historical perspective. 

“Core to the work is that she narrates in Ayajuthem as well as English,” he says. “That was important to me because that is the way that the story has been maintained for thousands of years.” 

Fraser-Munroe’s own personal journey informs T’əl: The Wild Man of the Woods. 

“Something I’ve talked about a little bit in the past is that I grew up doing grass dance and hoop dance, but that I work in ballet because I’m able to reach the largest possible audience for these stories,” he says. “I think that’s really important—that I can use ballet, because it’s familiar, as a bit of a lure to talk about a piece of oral history, and a piece of our shared history as Canadians. And part of what helped me select this story is that I have a personal connection to it, because it’s so culturally very specific.”

As for T’əl: The Wild Man of the Woods being the stuff that nightmares are made of, that all a matter of perspective. Scary as the world might be, you don’t always have to be afraid. 

“Part of the joy is the fear,” Fraser-Munroe offers. “So there’s the joy of sharing it with your younger cousins and seeing them be kept in line with the story and piece of our culture. But there’s also a realization: that you’re not going to be eaten by T’əl once you make it to a certain age.”

The Royal Winnipeg Ballet performs T’əl: The Wild Man of the Woods at the Centre in Vancouver on February 9-10 as part of a double bill with Carmina Burana.