When asked, “What is The War Being Waged about?” Darla always answered, “It is about the question we ask ourselves as Indigenous people every day: What are we fighting for?”
Woman. Mother. Artist. Activist. Warrior. Poet. Philosopher.
Darla Contois.
Her journey of writing this profound text (in all the ways that text can mean in a performance context) has been extraordinary and quite unlike anything I have witnessed before.
It began with a telephone conversation in 2018. I asked Darla if she would like to write a play as a commission with Prairie Theatre Exchange (PTE). And on instinct, I asked if she would like to write for movement or dance. She lit up, explaining that she had always wanted to write for dance or movement, but was unsure how to begin. We agreed to begin together, her courageously entering into the unknown of story and form, and PTE supporting her.
The first writing that arrived was a series of poems under the title love. When talking about these poems, she shared that they were about self-harm and suicide in her community. She believed that the only way through, the only way to find hope, and the only way to change, was love. And though she wasn’t happy with the initial poetry, the potency of the words was astonishing.
There were several drafts of this poetry before Darla expressed that she was stuck with the writing. She didn’t know which way to go. And then she was silent for a time. Months later, an email arrived with new writing. This time, the poems were gone. In their place was an early draft of a piece of prose for a solo voice, what would become Part One of The War Being Waged. I remember being breathless at the end of reading the draft. When I asked her what had inspired the change of direction, she said she didn’t know. This new story had arrived, and so she followed her instincts. A whole new world of story had opened up, with new characters, and a new narrative. That said, it was clear that these pieces were connected. That they were speaking to the same world. From the same world.
Canada always wins.
They take everything.
And then, two major events occurred. There was a pandemic. And Darla became a mother.
In discussion with Darla, we realized that the short story was from the voice of a grandmother. And she now knew that she wanted to begin again with the poetry, to write from the voice of a mother. She had so much to say, so many new insights since the birth of her daughter. And we realized together, all these years later, that the final piece of the story was for a granddaughter. And that it would all be in dance. That Darla, three years later, would write her dance.
And there it was. A story across three generations of Indigenous women. A story, and a performance text, that spanned three performance genres.
Of necessity, we knew that to realize the play, Darla would have to write alongside other collaborators. And so, the production team came together. Each of them read Part One, and were told the story of what Part Two and Three would eventually become. Without question, without hesitation, each of them said yes. They all took a leap of faith. They all believed in Darla, her story, and the potential of what this project could be.
We met regularly over the course of a year leading to production. Designer, composer, and choreographer also worked on commission to create alongside Darla. The meetings were non-hierarchical, with every artist sharing and contributing to each other’s discipline. Designers discussing writing, composer shaping image, choreographers shaping music, and so on. When it came time to create the video content, Darla wrote design prompts in poetry as she had written dance through words. And we all swam through that language together, looking for inspirations, clues, clarity, and more questions. And through these meetings, always with a focus on Darla’s writing and story, the set emerged. A 30-minute video of design research emerged. The voice recordings emerged. The full composition of music for Parts Two and Three emerged. And the choreography, through the choreographer and dancer, took shape.
Darla invited Andy, Emily, Jera, MJ, Tantoo, and Tracey to have a kind of authorship in the telling of the story. She trusted them to create with her and also apart from her. To inform and inspire her, and to challenge her. She fully embraced an approach whereby every element of production was, in its own way, text. And she celebrated these artists by letting them dream. And play. With open hearts.
I opened my eyes
and
I saw light
joy
wonder
We aIl watched in awe as Darla navigated the process.
We let her teach us through the wisdom of her words.
Through her vulnerability.
Through her truths.
And we saw the cost. The toll it took on her.
It cost everyone on the production.
But it gave so much more.
To each artist.
nitanis
we are all connected
For a play that speaks to so much injustice and turmoil, it is a play about hope.
It is a play that celebrates beauty.
A play that finds the potential for beauty, everywhere.
Deep Breath
Four years after she set the first words down, while none of the original poems of love remain, I am continuously reminded that this had all begun as a play about love. Darla’s initial instinct was love. That the way through, the way forward, was love.
The play answers the question, “What are we fighting for?” in many different ways. And it invites the audience to find their own answers. But as we all witnessed the audience meet this work for the first time, and then as we watched hearts and minds meet it again and again over 20 performances, it was clear that love was an answer to the question.
The only thing that makes sense to me
is home
—Thomas Morgan Jones
Treaty 1 Territory, Winnipeg, 2022
Thomas Morgan Jones is the artistic director of Prairie Theatre Exchange.