Dance review: Nêhiyaw Métis artist Jeanette Kotowich brings intensity, joy to Kisiskâciwan
The big sky, golden fields, and deep river valley of the dancer-choreographer’s Prairie home territory inspire the new solo
Jeanette Kotowich. Photo by Sharai Mutsatia
The Dance Centre presents Kisiskâciwan, continuing at the Scotiabank Dance Centre on October 1
DANCE ARTIST JEANETTE Kotowich’s Kisiskâciwan is inspired by Treaty 4 territory Saskatchewan, where she grew up surrounded by big sky and flaxen fields, and in particular the Kah-tep-was Valley, where she spent childhood summers. Chances are you’ve never experienced a human neigh, paw, and canter like a stallion so convincingly than in this emotive new solo.
The Nêhiyaw Métis dancer-choreographer created Kisiskâciwan in collaboration with Indigenous and non-Indigenous artists, the piece a celebration of her familial and geographical roots. It starts in pitch darkness, a rumbling, intensifying soundscape bringing to mind a gathering Prairie thunderstorm. Kotowich is hidden under a large metallic tarp, becoming a shape-shifting presence seeming to embody the ancient glaciers that melted and carved the deep Kah-tep-was Valley (Cree for “river that calls”). It’s as if the very universe is being born as Kotowich eventually and gradually emerges from that silvery covering, her hands clasped, head down, long hair falling, back muscles rippling in a slow, sinewy build to standing.
More than a physical depiction of her connection to the land, Kisiskâciwan is a love letter to it.
The sound design by Wayne Lavallee, Moe Clark, and Brady Marks ranges from whispering women’s voices to the steady beating of a drum to snippets of “Buffalo Gals, Won’t You Come Out Tonight”—that 1974 tune giving rise to the pure joy and playfulness that follow. Drawing on her background in Métis jigging, Kotowich bursts into fancy steps, quick and propulsive.
In a nod to the style’s relationship with the violin, Métis fiddler-vocalist Kathleen Nisbet performs prior to the performance (though without a mic, she is hard to hear).
At 50 minutes, Kisiskâciwan flies by, and it isn’t over after Kotowich takes a bow. Nisbet returns with a heartfelt and gently bouncy take on the Talking Heads’ “This Must Be the Place”, Kotowich inviting audience members to join her in a big dance party.
Kotowich may be miles away from the golden prairies where she grew up, but she’s clearly at home on-stage, in her body, and in bringing people together through dance.
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