Started in 2017, the Indigenous Artist Spotlight series was created to foster greater awareness and understanding of the strength and diversity of Indigenous art available in Ontario and beyond.
This month, Ksenija Spasic interviewed Ojibwe storyteller, actor, arts educator and writer Dillan Chiblow.
Instagram: @dillychibz
X: @DillanChiblow
Website: www.dillanchiblow.com
Your website mentions that you have been redefining your artistic practice. Could you talk about what this means for you spiritually and practically?
I have been going through a long process of unlearning and relearning. I was trained as an actor to approach work in specific ways. I first trained at Sheridan, in their Music Theatre program (2013) and, as time passed, I really noticed how the methods I learned there just didn’t serve me. They never felt fun. I got into acting and singing because it was the most joy I had as a teenager, but breaking down text felt like dissecting the spirit of the story. I was told, “You’re not grounded” while my feet are literally touching the ground. I was told, “you’re not in your body” and wondered “where the heck am I then !?!”
Early in my career, I held onto what I was taught in school like any of it could be a key. I added everything to the key chain, thinking “it’ll just take me time to figure out which keys open which doors for me in the industry.”
Annnnddd shocker, that didn’t really work out. It led to many bad, bad, BAD auditions, and odd choices that I didn’t fully believe in. I was a mess. So I went back to school.
Was this your time in the Musical Theatre masters program at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. How long were you there and what was that experience like?
I was accepted into The Royal Conservatoire of Scotland’s Masters in Musical Theatre program in 2015. And that was the experience I needed. A teacher there, after a few months, pulled me aside and asked me, “Dillan, what do you want?” I said, “I want to work.” All that guided me was the goal of booking a job. I didn’t care what kind of story I was telling, I just so desperately wanted to be a working actor.
She pointed out that’s not good enough, not specific enough. She advised me to use the time at the school to rediscover what makes me happy because she believed I had it in me to go out there and get it. I felt the spark I once had, flicker back to life.
The result of that has been incorporating my culture into my work. I mean, I AM my culture (Anishnawbe), I always carry it with me. But, I realised I wasn’t using the tools of storytelling I inherited from my gorgeous, stunning, beautiful Ancestors. My people have always been practical, our spirituality is a way of living. There is this principle called mino bimaadiziwin, which means “Living the good life”, and I’ve been following its many teachings since I got back from Scotland. It has been working out much better for me over the past few years.
Not just the teacher I mentioned above, but all the teachers there were amazing educators. The singing teachers blew my mind. The voice and speech teachers I wish could be with me for every role I work on. And the dance teachers killed us, in the best way possible. Being yelled at to kick your leg higher in a Scottish accent is fantastically motivating!
They had Gaelic music courses. Folks in Scotland are actively reclaiming their culture through songs and stories. I was surprised at how much my lived experience was shared with folks all the way in Scotland. Again, I felt that spark inside me.
We ended the program by performing two shows in rep at the Edinburgh Fringe festival. Walking by a giant castle everyday on my way to do an 11am show was pure magic. I loved my time there, I loved Scotland. I love it so much that during my March break I married a Scottish man (met him in my second week there) after 9 months of knowing him. And we just celebrated 9 years of marriage on June 17th! I always long to go back and visit, and dream of performing in the Fringe there again.
What was your path into musical theatre and how does this artform allow you to express things that are important to you?
My path into musical theatre was opened by a wonderful drama teacher I had in high school named Sue Barber. She had perfect pitch, played piano, and worked tirelessly to create a musical theatre course at the high school. She set me up with my first singing teacher. She helped me prep for college auditions. She was such a pillar in our community. I love her with all my heart and am so grateful for her.
I didn’t realize until, over a decade later, that I was dying to express what was important to me in musical theatre. Being First Nations in musical theatre between 2008-2013 was a lonely experience. I would sometimes get asked, “You’re Native, why do you even like musicals?” A question rooted in racism and colonialism. My answer was, “well, my people’s education system is storytelling. Our dances and songs are medicine and carry history with them. We use storytelling, songs, and dances to honour our relationship to the earth, to those we share the earth with, and to our past and future ancestors. Knowing that is true, how could I not end up doing musical theatre?”
I can express my culture, my history, the way my Ancestors always have, by singing, dancing, and telling stories. I can share truths that have been kept from us, in a way that allows people's hearts and ears to be open. I woke up to the fact that I can’t keep waiting for the industry to include people like me, I can’t keep waiting for more Indigenous stories in musical theatre. If I want to see it, then I will have to do it.
Have you done much touring in Canada or elsewhere in the world? What are three things you feel a performer like you needs from a venue to make their show a success?
I have been so lucky to perform from P.E.I all the way to Vancouver, with stops in other provinces. For me, three things theatres need to make a show successful are:
-
Cultural access: Make space for First Nation storytellers to put our culture into practice. Shut off the fire alarms so we can smudge the space. Bring in a local Elder to welcome us to their territory. Allow us to have a safe space in your theatre, as sometimes doing Native work can be triggering for us. These stories we are telling were literally outlawed decades ago. So, understanding the significance to us goes a long way.
-
Outreach, outreach, outreach: Please, theatres, make an effort to be in community with the local Nations around you. I won’t speak for all Native people, but a meaningful relationship goes a long way. Invest in your local Native community. It is so beautiful when Native audience members come up to me after a show and share that it was their first time in a theatre. Also, we need butts in seats. They have butts, you have seats. You do the math!
-
Housing options: Billets, or something! I know not every theatre can afford this, but it’s getting harder to say yes to contracts out of Toronto, when the price of AirBnBs has skyrocketed. Some actors are walking away with no earnings after working for 8 weeks because the price of their living arrangements took all their money. I’ve heard horror stories of people being billeted so far from the theatre they had to rent a car for the run of their show. Actors can’t live off passion. We need affordable housing for actors coming in to work!
Your musical “The 7 Fires” has been chosen for developmental support by the National Centre for New Musicals. You are the concept creator and book writer, while Landon Doak is writing the music and lyrics.
Could you tell us about the work itself and where you are in the process at this point?
We started working on The 7 Fires in 2020. We first won the Musical Stage Company’s Aubry & Marla Dan Fund for New Musicals. We also were awarded a grant from Native Earth's 40 Seeds Program in the same year. And, most recently, we were chosen for developmental support by the National Centre For New Musicals.
The 7 Fires is an all-Indigenous cast musical inspired by the Anishnawbe Seven Fires Prophecy. Laws within the Indian Act are reinstated. It is illegal for Indigenous people to sing our songs, dance our dances, and speak our language. A group of Ancestors perform a ceremony to put the Seven Fires to sleep, so one day, when it is safe, they will reawaken a light the final Fire. The Fire of Peace.
We have seven strangers run into the woods. They were at a Rebel Gathering that was raided by police. They decide to stay the night in the woods, rather than try and get out while it gets dark. They share fragments of teachings that have survived since the Outlawing went into effect. They trap, fish, and reconnect to the land. As they sleep, some of them receive dreams from their Ancestors. The Ancestors are trying to reach them. It is a story of Indigenous joy, rebellion, reconnection, and prophecy!
We just finished up a research grant. One of our characters is deaf and receives a dream from a deaf Ancestor who communicates with them in an Indigenous sign language. I want sign language and powwow steps to be woven into the choreography. An Indigenous deaf woman taught Indigenous sign language to our choreographer who turned that into movement. The results were beautiful!
Currently, we are working on our second full draft. I am working with Mary Francis Moore. Refining the script with her has been such a joy and exactly what the work needs!
Regarding our future plans, we just won a grant with YES Theatre, and the folks there are really excited about the piece. We are planning a longer development workshop in 2026 which will give us time for new discoveries and rewrites. I can’t wait until January 2026 for a new draft to be done and hear it read by actors. It feels like Christmas morning every time we are in the room working on this show.
I clearly found my joy again!
If you could stop time and have unlimited resources to pursue an artistic quest, what would it be?
My dream would be to develop a performing arts program centering Indigenous ways of knowing and being. I know there are programs out there already, but I want a land-based arts program.
I want Indigenous folks from Turtle Island to be able to connect to their storytelling while on the land. I would love to have a giant facility with modern technology where we can do design workshops full of stunning Native art.
This would mean really walking the “Two Roads” (the traditional path and modern day path), allowing space for Native folks to grow and make the art of their dreams; whether that be a play, a dance piece, a musical, or anything related to storytelling.
We would have an outreach program that would send staff into communities to run arts workshops. Hopefully, this would inspire the future Ancestors and show them we can tell stories the way we want. Being invited into communities to work with the youth, I feel, is so important.
We would become an accredited school with tons of scholarships and housing. We would offer different arts and land-based training programs, allowing people to get their degrees while connecting to our stories and the land. Our students would get to act in works being developed there, getting hands-on experience, working with established Indigenous writers and leaders.
We would generate a generation full of Indigenous folks equipped with all the tools they need to carve out a path for themselves. It would be a non-stop giant wave of the many Nations here on Turtle Island, sharing their stories backed with skills, talent, and technology like you’ve never seen!
In a way, this is already happening, but an unlimited budget would do wonders! So, if any billionaire out there wants to help out, call me! Lol.