There is music that transcends linguistics. Songs deeply rooted in ancestral history, full of intention, emotion, and power. You don’t have to understand the words to feel what the singer is trying to tell you.
On April 24, which is a date of great significance to my culture, I went to the album release of Beatrice Deer’s Inuit Legend. I was supposed to attend an Armenian Genocide memorial, however I chose to go to Beatrice Deer’s album launch at Bar l’Esco instead.
This was my third time seeing The Beatrice Deer Band, and it seems each time is better than the last.
Inuk artist Niivi set the tone for an unforgettable evening as she began by having everyone clear the front of the stage while she slowly entered the circle of people and ceremoniously beat her katuk (drum). She hadn’t even begun singing yet, and I already had goosebumps. Then she spoke of her grief over a close friend who had committed suicide, and the room became heavy with silence. (Nunavut has the highest suicide rate in all of Canada.)
Her set was loud, energetic, and refreshingly unique. It’s hard to believe that Niivi has been writing songs since she was 15. She’s just 18 now, so I can’t wait to see what she does next. Her performance of No Pride In Genocide was my favourite.
The crowd at l’Esco was made up of mostly Indigenous women, proudly covered in Kakiniit (traditional Inuit tattoos), who seemed to know each other. They emanated so much joy and vitality that, although I was alone and didn’t know anyone, I felt safe and welcomed.
When Beatrice finally appeared on stage, it was almost 10, and the excitement of the fans was palpable. Dressed like a warrior goddess, in a long black sequinned and lace tunic with a shiny cape, metallic headdress with long colourful beading, and a blue ponytail extension cascading down her back, Beatrice embodied the beauty and spirit of Inuit legend. And if her outfit wasn’t impressive enough, she made sure to let us know that she actually made it herself.
Before singing any songs, she showed us framed portraits of her beloved ancestors who had passed on and placed them at the front of the stage, starting with her sister Janice Deer, who committed suicide at 17, and whose artwork is on the cover of her new album, and then her grandmother and great-grandparents, etc. Each family member was given a brief and heartfelt biography. She didn’t just want to honour their memory, she wanted them all to be there with her because they had never seen her perform.
So, before each song, we were given the history and significance behind the Inuit legends, which I greatly appreciated because the majority of the album is in Inuktitut. Beatrice uses her voice and imagination to weave the ancient stories that have been passed down for generations into rock/folk songs. Themes of love and death, famine, illness, jealousy, deceit, and a wide range of human conditions are brought to life through oral histories preserved by real people, as seen in the photographs right in front of the stage.
Although the themes were quite heavy and sometimes violent and sad, Beatrice, a formidable raconteur, had a way of sprinkling a little humour throughout her set. She dropped a lot of F-bombs, which emphasized authenticity and made her even more relatable.
Before singing The Falcon and The Woman (one of my favourites), Beatrice listed all of the unimaginable struggles that she has endured, from domestic violence, alcoholism, sexual abuse, and suicides of loved ones. Stating, “I have been through a lot of shit.” She claimed her past not as a victim, but a survivor who thrives, educates, and inspires. A woman who transforms pain into beauty, embodying resilience, triumph, and hope.
Which is why I can’t understand why anyone would have the nerve to disrupt her show. At one point during her storytelling, there was a man in the audience who kept interrupting with loud, irrelevant, and rude commentary. I don’t know if he was drunk, but it was annoying as hell and so disrespectful. The way Beatrice calmly handled the situation is worth mentioning. She stopped mid-sentence, boldly stared him in the eyes, and asked, “Do you want to tell the story because you are taking up too much space?” And then we didn’t hear from him for the rest of the evening.
Sylvia Cloutier did some very impressive throat singing and backing vocals on many songs. They even had a little competition and invited challengers to join in. Niivi and Beatrice‘s daughter Arsaniq joined in for Aukkauti to close the show, and it was really touching to see them all singing together.
I could listen to Beatrice sing and tell stories all night. The love and pride that she has for her culture and her community is infectious. Inuit Legend is an evocative expression of courage and resilience. Somehow, through her explorations of a tragic and violent history, Beatrice found a way to tap into her divine feminine power and honour her ancestors. And she was generous enough to bring us all along to celebrate.
Review – Annette Aghazarian
Photos – Ryan Rumpel
