The 35th edition of Montreal’s Festival International Présence Autochtone (FIPA) August 5-14 features an ambitious aquatic international music production called Song to the Whales.
Developed by festival regulars Oktoecho in collaboration with an Australian collective led by Corrina Bonshek, the work blends Inuit, Maori and Aboriginal voices with contemporary instrumentation.
“Creatively we worked quite fast because each of us already had some strong material,” said Bonshek. “Some of the music has this open invitation for the vocalists to bring their own culture and style.”
The project is a reimagining of Bonshek’s Song to the Ocean in partnership with Oktoecho composer and oudist Katia Makdissi-Warren. The immersive ode to ocean is interpreted by Inuit throat singers Lydia Etok and Nina Segalowitz, Australia’s Mirning Elder singer-songwriter Bunna Lawrie, and Māori vocalist Whaia Sonic Weaver.
Brought together by Brisbane-based musician Greta Kelly because of their parallel styles, Bonshek and Makdissi-Warren weave orchestral webs with ample space for Indigenous singers. Makdissi-Warren said that when the show reaches Australia for festival season it could be something entirely new.
“We have the same experience of working with people who don’t read music but have strong culture,” suggested Makdissi-Warren. “It’s a work in progress. We’re seeking unity, but the subtleties of what the singers express always changes.”
Makdissi-Warren worked with double bassist Etienne Lafrance to imitate different types of whale song. With 11 gongs conducted by Australian percussionist Michael Askill emulating the undulating ocean waves, the music drifts from floating currents to the crashing surf.
“Whales will sing for days, like a trance music,” said Bonshek. “It’s a beautiful expansive unfolding. The low frequency you can feel in your body and the high frequency can pierce you.”
Bonshek has collaborated with Whaia (pronounced “fire”) since a music and art installation at the 2018 Gold Coast Commonwealth Games, in which audience members could walk among the orchestra like glowing trees in a forest. Whaia is a transcendent vocalist who plays crystal singing bowls and Taonga Pūoro (traditional Māori instruments).
“We used to drop hydrophones under the water and record whales in ceremony with our Elder Bunna Lawrie,” recalled Whaia. “One of the band members invited me onto the boat and then they invited me in the band. He taught me his Aboriginal language. That sparked this reclamation journey of going back to my motherland, learning my mother tongue and diving into my First Nations instruments a little deeper.”
Acclaimed a “whale songman” of the Yinyila Nation, Lawrie founded the influential rock-ska band Coloured Stone in 1978. His drive to protect his sacred totem, the southern right whale, inspired Julian Lennon’s award-winning 2008 documentary The Whaledreamers. Two of his many whale songs are featured in this new project.
For many Australian-Aotearoan saltwater peoples, whales are Elders of the sea and have been the focus of song rituals for thousands of years. Whaia said whales navigate the ocean highways like Polynesian people have always done. She believes that aligning the vocal frequencies of distant coastal peoples elevates a message of hope for humanity.
“There’s a very visceral consciousness happening when we weave these ancient languages together,” Whaia told the Nation. “It creates a ripple in the hearts of humanity. Yes, it’s a gorgeous performance but it’s bigger than ourselves – it’s very much a ceremony.”
Embarking is on a world tour that includes November’s COP30 climate change conference in Brazil. As an ocean ambassador, Whaia has performed at United Nations events and is a board member of Oceanic Global and Hawai’i’s Kia’i Moana Foundation.
Hearing of this sacred connection to whales before the tour, Lydia Etok was a little reluctant to share that whales provide a vital food, light and heat source for the Inuit.
“Mongolian throat singing is warrior songs whereas Inuit throat singing is imitation of nature or creating melody out of anything that surrounds us,” explained Etok.
Asked to partner with Segalowitz for a show 15 years ago, Etok has been on board ever since, serving as co-artistic director throughout multiple albums, experimental productions and school workshops. Having long dreamed of bringing that experience to kids up North, it finally came to fruition this summer.
In partnership with ESUMA and Inuit summer camps, the Oktoecho ensemble led week-long music residencies in Umiujaq and Kangiqsujuaq, Nunavik. Youth participants aged 5 to 12 joined workshops in throat singing, percussion, traditional flutes, electronic music and composition.
“They were cute, very excited and enthusiastic in trying out the instruments,” said Etok. “We talked about how we throat sing with anecdotes about why we throat sing and how it started.”
Rarely hearing throat singing growing up, Etok thought it was a relic from the distant past until learning it from an Inuit friend in college who needed a partner to practice with. Soon they were being invited to perform and make presentations about Inuit culture. With Elders eager to pass along the tradition nowadays, more younger people have been learning.
“Now it’s mixed with different kinds of music, so you hear it every day,” Etok said. “We want young people to be aware of the opportunities. You get to know more of your history, your identity, and you want to share that. People want to learn about the Inuit culture.”