Perfect Harmony

"Canadian Living" June 1996

"When Powell River, B.C., hosts the world for its international choral festival, this mill town is moved by much more than music."

A WAVE OF EMOTION STUNS me as I enter the dim theatre where 300 children are singing, "When every man joins in our song, together singing in harmony, that's when we'll be free." Swaying hand in hand, they are rehearsing a choral arrangement of Oscar Peterson's "Hymn to Freedom." They have assembled from all around the world in a remote British Columbia pulp and paper mill town and their message, by its very sweetness and simplicity is mighty.

Powell River, B.C., is the site of the International Choral Kathaumixw held every other summer. In a remarkable community effort, this Sunshine Coast town of 18,000, about 140 kilometers northwest of Vancouver, hosts a one-week musical journey that transcends languages and borders, politics and prejudices. The name best describes the event: Kathaumixw is a Coast Salish word that means "a gathering together of different peoples." Since the first Kathaumixw in 1984, children's, youth and adult choirs from four continents have gathered to sing and socialize-and inspire.

I begin to see Kathaumixw's special spirit when I first see the main concert hall: no vast, resonant church, no plush recital hall but instead a community arena. I'm a little surprised because I know that several high-profile choirs-from Canada's professional Elmer Iseler Singers to the outstanding Tapiola Choir of Finland-will take the stage. Puzzled, I ask about the firefighters hosing the roof. "To keep the place cool for tonight's opening gala," I'm told.

Also keeping remarkably cool is the man who envisioned Kathaumixw and who, in a few hours, will give the downbeat to a massed choir of 1000. Don James, who received the Order of Canada in 1990 for his work with young choristers, is the much-loved music director of the Powell River Academy of Music. He and Dal Matterson, festival chairman, stumbled upon the idea for Kathaumixw in 1982, during a mountain-hiking trip with their sons, all members of James's award winning boys' choir. Having taken the choir on several European tours, James was frustrated that he couldn't find a North American summer festival to attend. As they reached the top of the mountain and looked out over Texada island and the ocean beyond, the men determined that Powell River was as promising a place as any to hold a festival. Matterson recalls, "Don asked me if I would be chairman, and I asked him if he would be artistic director. Within a week we had a mission statement."

They took their vision to five other key "doers" to form an executive committee: Matterson's wife, Kay, Academy of Music administrator Terry Sabine, Jim and Sandra Donnelly, and retired school principal Richard Hibberd. They are all so committed that should there be a deficit, they will cover it. (The operating budget is $400,000). Says Sabine, "We always joke, 'I wonder if we'll still own our houses after the festival.'"

Six festivals later they still do, and their passion is now shared by all of Powell River - a wealthy town centered around a MacMillan Bloedel pulp and paper mill, once the largest in the world. Mill workers, loggers, hospital staff, teachers, business people, homemakers and retirees all pitch in and open their homes to hundreds of visiting choristers. "People take a great deal of pride in giving of themselves to others,' says James. "As a result they get a lot given back to them, and the cycle just continues."

The ocean sparkles in the late afternoon sun as Jim Donnelly, head of transportation for Kathaumixw - and superintendent for the mill's finishing department the rest of the time - steers his pickup through town. He's on the walkie-talkie dealing with getting a busload of choristers back from a hike in time for dinner. "The school district donates the use of two buses - fuel and everything," he explains. "We use school-district drivers. They donate their time. "We've also got our own bus. One guy who works for Canadian Freightways in Vancouver takes his holidays and volunteers to drive the bus for us. We also do all the incoming transportation since Powell River is hard to get to because of having to take two ferries." This is clearly no small undertaking. What started with a handshake at the top of a mountain now represents the coordination of transportation, accommodation, meals and social events for 1,200 singers from 25 choirs, the assembling of an international jury for the competitions, the compiling of publicity materials and much more.

"I'm just amazed such a small place could put on such a big music festival," says Shane Porter, assistant conductor of the Nyonza Singers and Dancers of Uganda. "People have said this couldn't happen in a big city because there isn't the same feeling of community." Elmer Iseler, whose renowned Toronto ensemble is one of the choirs in residence, is equally impressed: "It's unbelievable it can happen in a relatively remote area like this. The fact that the whole town is so festival conscious makes it a success."

To see how fully this community has embraced Kathaumixw is heart-warming. For five days, 8,000 people embark on musical discoveries from morning until night. Even though concertgoers cannot understand many of the texts, they are moved - frequently by tears - by warm harmonies and dazzling dissonances, by complex contemporary pieces and simple folk songs, by centuries-old works and festival premieres. A tapestry of language, culture, history and repertoire makes each choir's sound unique - from the free confident singing of Finland's Tapiola Choir to the flawless blend of Slovenia's Maribor Children's Chorus to the driving rhythms of Uganda's Nyzona Singers and Dancers.

"It's amazing," enthuses Vancouver conductor and professor Diane Loomer, "to go out into the parking lot and realize you're in Powell River and have heard these choirs from all over the world. It's a miracle!" Even more thrilling is to experience the limitless range of expression possible when people interpret words and music together. "That's what is so exciting about choral singing," explains Loomer. "It's a very intimate way of communicating, and sincere."

A chorister myself, I have often experienced that exhilarating connection between conductor and choir and between choir and audience. But for the first time in a long while, I feel it as a listener. The University of the Philippines Madrigal Singers and director Andrea Veneracion, seated in a tight semicricle, have us on our feet for five encores. They leave us in tears with an electrifying arrangement of The Beatles "Let it Be."

The most unusual choir is also the town's favourite - the Nyonza singers and Dancers. At the sound of their drums and the appearance of the barefoot women dancers in colorful native dress, a bolt of excitement ignites the arena. One of their fans is Hank Cummings, a retired sheet-metal mechanic who has hosted several Ugandans over the years. Like many of their neighbours, he and his wife were invited to visit the singers they billeted. They travelled to Kampala in 1989, just after the civil war."

"We saw the effects of the war," says Cummings. "The first few days I just couldn't believe it. I mean you see it on television but…They're very good people. They've had hardships but they seem to be able to bounce right back.' He adds, "We do a lot of travelling but we never thought we'd go to Uganda."

The board of directors makes it a priority to help choirs from soft-currency countries like Uganda make arrangements to attend Kathaumixw and tour other parts of the province afterward. Plans and negotiations often take years, but the effort is worthwhile. With the assistance of the first secretary of the Soviet embassy in Ottawa, negotiations began in 1987 with various arms of the government of the Soviet Union to bring choirs to the festival. The efforts culminated in a visit from the Shchedryk Children's Choir of Kiev in 1990. Matterson recalls, "When they arrived, the children had been travelling for 36 hours and were really weak and sickly looking. We began to learn of some of their difficulties, particularly the effects of Chernobyl on them."

The townspeople took the children under their wing, buying them clothes and toys, taking them on outings. "It turned out to be an absolutely fantastic choir," says Matterson. "It swept the children's competition and was unanimously chosen most outstanding choir of the 1990 festival." Determined to have them back in 1994, the Powell River United Church undertook the task of raising half the airfare.

Matterson, who helped with negotiations for their first visit, developed a special bond with the choir and after retiring from the mill, where he served as chief electrical and systems engineer. He traveled to Ukraine. When he met some of the parents, they admitted they'd barely recognized their children upon their return in 1990 - they were healthier and had been reclothed. 

Shortly after his arrival, Matterson was escorted to the rehearsal hall, a small room without enough chairs for everyone. He will never forget that moment: "There was a whole ensemble lined up facing me, and they sang 'O Canada' - and it was Don James' arrangement. They told me they'd had such a wonderful time that whenever the kids felt sad, they would sing 'O Canada.''

It is ironic that one of the most important connections made through this international festival has been right at home - with the native community of Sliammon, a few miles north of town. For the gala opening concert of the 1994 festival, organizers sought the permission of the Sliammon elders to stage some of their legends and stories from other tribes of the Coast Salish Nation. The festival commissioned Tobin stokes, a young Victoria composer who grew up singing in James's choirs, to write the work, and called on the expertise of talented choreographer Carol Coulson, who had been involved with the Sliammon community of 800 for four years.

"I wanted to stage it with Salish," says Coulson, who was made an honorary member of Sliammon in 1990. "So I had several meetings with the tribe. The chief and the elders decided this would be a good thing, that they should be involved and integrate with the community." The result was a stunning interpretation of four legends, presented by natives and non-natives in a first-ever collaboration. At the end of the performance, the Sliammon chief presented Coulson with an eagle feather, a great honor.

"Until we started these collaborations, I had always just driven through Sliammon on my way to somewhere else," say James. "There's a whole other nation out there, just a few miles away. And they're wonderful people, with wonderful customs and respect for nature and the coexistence of all living things." Stokes adds, "I just pulled my inspiration from them and what they told us. It was an honor. Their message is respect for the world."

Once again I am watching the children. Dressed in shorts and choir T-shirts, the members of the Salem Boys Choir of Oregon, the Maribor Children's Chorus and Argentina's Coro De Ninos Y Jovenes Ars Nova are waiting outside the community centre for a bus to take them to a picnic site for the afternoon. Spontaneously, they began to sing and soon form a big circle that snakes toward the parking lot. A small boy with braces on his legs watches awkwardly until two of the Slovenian girls take his hands and bring him into the circle. He beams. For a few moments nothing exists but their music and the majestic choir of tall cedars behind them.

When they go back home, you don't know how far the ripples are going to go,' says jury member Carl Little, a former CBC producer and national supervisor of radio music. "Andrea Veneracion said to me, 'If they could just teach everyone in the world to sing together, there would be no more wars.' You feel it here. A lot of these young people will become leaders in their communities. They'll carry this with them."

It is early morning after the closing ceremonies and the town gathers at the ferry docks for the tearful send-off. As people exchange gifts and addresses, Joseph Addison's lines from Stoke's Kathaumixw anthem float through my head: "The spacious firmament on high …and spangled heav'ns a shining frame, their great Original proclaim…forever singing as they shine, 'the hand that made us divine.'" I look up. Two eagles are circling above us. It is the end of the gathering and only fitting that they are here to say farewell.