Posted December 16, 2024

The Interview – Corey Payette

Corey Payette

Corey Payette is an award-winning interdisciplinary storyteller, writer, composer, and director whose work challenges conventional narratives by infusing Indigenous perspectives into mainstream music, theatre, and film. A member of the Mattagami First Nations with French Canadian and Irish ancestry, Payette’s large-scale musical creations have been shared extensively across Canada and around the world, igniting conversations about resilience, cultural healing, and reconciliation. 

Corey, you are renowned for your epic musicals such as Children of God, Les Filles du Roi, Sedna, and Starwalker. Musicals are usually considered to be the most mainstream theatrical form, but yours often advocate for social change, and your work has been called “transformative.” Can you tell us a little about your philosophy of theatre?

I believe theatre has the power to transform individuals and communities by creating space for stories that challenge, heal, and inspire. My philosophy of theatre is rooted in the idea that storytelling is a necessary part of being alive—one that has been central to all human cultures since time immemorial. When I create musicals, I aim to bridge the deeply personal and the universal, drawing audiences into worlds where they can feel connected to the characters’ struggles, joys, and resilience.

For me, the musicals I create aren’t solely for entertainment. They’re tools for inspiration, advocacy, and education, a place where we can shine a light on difficult truths, such as the legacy of residential schools in Children of God, or the erasure of Indigenous women’s voices in Les Filles du Roi. At its best, theatre is a communal experience that opens hearts and minds to new perspectives, encouraging empathy and action.

I approach every project with the belief that art must be in service of the communities it represents. This means ensuring cultural safety, following proper protocols, and working collaboratively between Indigenous and non-Indigenous artists. My musicals often explore themes of resilience, identity, and reclamation, blending stories with contemporary forms. This intersection of the old and the new is where I feel the most innovation happens—it’s where we can honor the past while imagining a better future.

Ultimately, I strive to create work that feels alive, urgent, and in conversation with the communities they’re created in. Theatre has the potential to leave audiences transformed, and I see my role as helping to guide that journey—not just through spectacle, but through truth, heart, and a deep respect for the stories we share.

You are an incredibly talented and versatile artist—you often write the book, the music, the lyrics, and then direct the show! Do you make a conscious switch from one role to the other? Or are you working on everything all at once? 

I would say that the roles of writing, composing, and directing are deeply interconnected for me, so I rarely experience them as completely separate. When I’m writing the book, I’m already imagining how a scene might flow into a song. When I’m composing the music, I’m thinking about how the staging will bring it to life. And as I direct, I’m constantly refining the text, lyrics, and music to ensure they work harmoniously in the space.

That said, there are moments when I have to focus more deliberately on one role. For example, writing the book requires stepping back to think about the larger structure and arcs of the story, while composing allows me to delve into the emotional core of a character or moment. Directing brings it all together—interpreting the material in collaboration with the cast and creative team, shaping the show into a cohesive and dynamic experience.

I think of the process as a constant dialogue between these roles rather than switching between separate hats. It’s about listening to the story and letting it guide my decisions, whether it’s through a lyric, a melody, or a staging idea. Ultimately, it all serves the same goal: to tell the story in the most powerful and resonant way possible. Being so involved in every aspect allows me to ensure that the vision is cohesive while also being open to the incredible contributions of the team, which always elevates the work.

Children of God is a powerful play that centres on a family that is deeply affected when the children are sent to a residential school. Can you tell us how the play was received—both by Survivors of the residential school system and by other theatregoers?

The reception of Children of God has been deeply moving and humbling. From the very beginning, I knew this story would carry immense weight for audiences, particularly for Survivors of residential schools and their families. The play was created with a deep sense of responsibility to honour their experiences, and their responses have been some of the most meaningful feedback I’ve ever received.

For many Survivors, the play became a space where they could see their stories reflected and acknowledged in a way that felt like a validation of their lived experiences, and for others, it opened up conversations with their families that they hadn’t been able to have before. There were tears, moments of healing, and a profound sense of connection in those post-show discussions. Many Survivors and intergenerational Survivors have shared their own stories, prayers, and songs in these post show conversations.

For other theatregoers, particularly those unfamiliar with the history of residential schools, the play was often eye-opening. Many expressed feeling a mix of heartbreak, anger, and gratitude—heartbreak for what they learned about this chapter of history, anger at the systemic injustices, and gratitude for the opportunity to witness a story that deepened their understanding of a history that they felt was kept from them.

One of the most frequent comments I received was about the balance of pain and hope in the piece. Audiences were moved by the resilience of the characters and the strength of the family at its heart, even in the face of unimaginable trauma. That balance is central to my work—it’s about acknowledging the truth but also shining a light on the love, strength, and resistance that carry us forward.

The response reinforced for me the power of theatre to foster empathy and understanding, and I’m deeply grateful to every Survivor, family member, and audience member who came to share in this story. To me, it shows the need we have in every community for these conversations to continue and for these truths to be heard.

Les Filles du Roi, which was co-written with Julie McIsaac and made into an award-winning film, features three languages and takes place in the 17^th century. Tell us a bit about the process of developing that play. What was the catalyst for creating it? Was the research process intense?

The development of Les Filles du Roi was a deeply rewarding and challenging process, rooted in a desire to explore a critical moment in history through an Indigenous lens. The catalyst for creating the piece came from a shared curiosity between Julie McIsaac and me about how the arrival of the Filles du Roi—the King’s Daughters—reshaped the cultural and social landscape of what is now known as Quebec, and how those events forever changed the lives of Indigenous peoples.

We wanted to tell a story that highlighted not only the resilience of Indigenous women but also the connections and conflicts between French settlers and the Kanien’kehá:ka (Mohawk) people during this time. The inclusion of three languages—Kanien’kéha, French, and English—was central to the project from the beginning. It was our way of authentically representing the multilingual and multicultural world of the 17th century while honoring the languages as living, vital carriers of culture.

The research process was indeed intense. We collaborated closely with Kanien’kéha language speakers, Elders, historians, and cultural advisors to ensure accuracy and respect in every aspect of the story. We worked with the Native North American Travelling College on Akwesasne over several years, hosted a community sharing of the musical, as well as a feast as part of the development of this work. 

In addition to historical research, the creative process involved deep conversations about the themes of the story—colonization, survival, and identity. Writing Les Filles du Roi wasn’t just about looking to the past but about connecting those historical events to ongoing conversations about reconciliation, land, and language revitalization today.

The development process was also highly collaborative. Julie and I would often write and workshop scenes while working with the actors and musicians to refine the material in real-time. It was important to us to create a piece that felt alive and urgent, even as it was rooted in the past.

Ultimately, the journey of creating Les Filles du Roi was one of learning, listening, and honoring the complexities of this history. It’s a story about survival, love, and connection that continues to resonate, and I feel deeply proud to have brought it to both the stage and the screen.

Adapting the stage musical Les Filles du Roi into a feature film was an extraordinary journey that allowed us to bring its powerful story to new audiences on an international scale. The transition from stage to screen provided an opportunity to reimagine the visual language of the piece, blending the raw emotional power of live performance with the cinematic tools of intimate close-ups, sweeping landscapes, and detailed visual storytelling. Every element—from the multilingual dialogue in Kanien’kéha (Mohawk), French, and English to the haunting musical score—was crafted to honor the spirit of the original production while fully embracing the medium of film.

The story of Les Filles du Roi, set in 1665, explores the intersections of Indigenous and settler cultures, resilience, and survival. On film, the narrative’s themes of identity and reclamation gained even greater resonance, as we were able to bring audiences closer to the characters’ struggles and triumphs. The use of cinematic techniques allowed us to amplify the world of the story—immersing viewers in the dense forests, stark realities, and enduring beauty of the land.

Since its release, Les Filles du Roi has been shared with film festival audiences around the globe, receiving critical acclaim for its storytelling and its unique, multilingual perspective. It has garnered multiple awards at national and international film festivals, highlighting not only its artistic achievements but also the importance of centering Indigenous voices in historical narratives. These accolades are a testament to the dedication of the cast, crew, and creative team who brought this story to life.

Through its festival journey, Les Filles du Roi has sparked important conversations about the history of colonization, the resilience of Indigenous cultures, and the power of reclaiming language and identity. It’s been an honor to see how this story resonates with diverse audiences, and it reaffirms our belief in the transformative power of art to build bridges across cultures and communities.

Starwalker, which is slated for publication by Scirocco Drama in Spring of 2025, tells the story of a young queer/Two Spirit man who finds strength by exploring their Indigenous culture and their drag persona in a community of East Vancouver drag queens. If you had to sum up the underlying message of the play, what would you say it is? (Also: Is it true that there may be a television version of Starwalker in the works?)

For me, this piece is a love letter to the community I’ve lived in for the past 15 years—a neighborhood that is so beautifully queer, unapologetically diverse, and deeply connected to Indigenous peoples.

Starwalker reflects the unique spirit of East Van, a place where authenticity and self-expression thrive, and where chosen families create bonds of love and acceptance. The story captures the intersection of queerness and Indigeneity in a way I felt hadn’t been fully explored before. It celebrates the resilience of people who navigate those worlds, honoring the creativity, courage, and joy that this community embodies.

At its core, the underlying message of Starwalker is one of empowerment: by embracing all parts of yourself—your heritage, your identity, your creativity—you can find the strength to overcome challenges and flourish. It’s about reclaiming who you are and finding healing in a community that celebrates every part of you.

The excitement of Starwalker extends beyond the stage—it will be released as a feature film in 2025. This adaptation brings its vibrant characters, its love for East Van, and its unique perspective to the screen, inviting even more people to experience the beauty and power of this story. It’s an incredible opportunity to celebrate the voices of queer and Indigenous communities and share their stories with the world.

Sedna, which was co-created with Reneltta Arluk and Marshall McMahen, was performed outdoors in the winter at Caravan Farm Theatre. Huge puppets, horse-drawn sleighs, and the retelling of an Inuk legend about the spirit of the sea—it sounds magical! How is an outdoor show different from one in a theatre?

Creating an outdoor production at Caravan Farm Theatre offers a unique and immersive experience that differs significantly from traditional indoor performances. The natural environment becomes an integral part of the storytelling, with elements like the crunch of snow underfoot, visible breath in the cold air, and the sounds of the forest enhancing the atmosphere and drawing the audience deeper into the narrative.

At Caravan Farm Theatre, the land itself is a collaborator, providing a dynamic backdrop that enriches the theatrical experience. The expansive 80-acre farm, with its fields and forests, allows for creative land-based learning and storytelling that is deeply connected to the environment.

However, outdoor theatre also presents unique challenges. Weather conditions such as snow, rain, or extreme cold can impact performances, requiring careful planning and adaptability. Technical elements like sound and lighting must be tailored to the outdoor setting, and actors need to project more energy to engage audiences who are often bundled up and seated on sleighs.

Despite these challenges, the communal spirit of outdoor theatre is profoundly rewarding. Gathering under the open sky to share a story connects us to the origins of storytelling—around fires and beneath the stars—fostering a deep connection between the audience, the performers, and the land. This connection creates a magical and unforgettable experience for everyone involved.

I believe you’re working on a new project called On Native Land. Can you give us a sneak preview?

I’m excited to share that On Native Land is a new musical that delves into contemporary Indigenous narratives, focusing on themes of identity, land disputes, and the complexities surrounding Indigenous identity fraud. The story intertwines the lives of three characters—a lawyer, a Chief, and a rising singer-songwriter—whose paths converge in a powerful tale that examines the profound impacts of forced displacement on Indigenous peoples across Turtle Island.

The musical aims to shed light on the universal experiences of urban Indigenous communities, offering both solace and solidarity. It’s a call to action, revealing the challenges and resilience inherent in the struggle for identity and land rights.

We recently presented a workshop performance of On Native Land at the TRANSFORM Festival on November 9, 2024, at the Vancouver Playhouse. This development workshop allowed us to engage with audiences and gather valuable feedback as we continue to refine the production.

As we move forward, we’re committed to bringing this story to a broader audience, fostering understanding and dialogue around these critical issues. Stay tuned for future updates on performances and developments related to On Native Land.

You are the long-time Artistic Director of Vancouver’s Urban Ink theatre company, which is known for its cultural diversity and its collaborative process. Tell us more about Urban Ink!

I’m incredibly proud to have served as the Artistic Director of Urban Ink for over a decade. Over the years, Urban Ink has grown into a powerhouse of storytelling, amplifying Indigenous and culturally diverse voices through theatre, music, film, and live performance. Our mission is to ensure that these stories are told with authenticity, by the artists whose voices need to be heard.

In addition to groundbreaking theatre productions like Children of God and Les Filles du Roi, we’ve expanded into feature films that are reaching international audiences and winning awards. These films allow us to bring our stories to life in new ways, reaching audiences far beyond the theatre and ensuring these narratives have lasting impact.

Urban Ink remains at the forefront of innovation, from award-winning films to live theatre that tours across Turtle Island, and events like the Transform Festival, which we recently brought to the Vancouver Playhouse. The future is bright, and there’s no sign of slowing down. We’ll continue to push boundaries, support artists, and share transformative stories that inspire change and celebrate the power of diverse voices.

In recent years, there has been an explosion of work with Indigenous themes by fantastic Indigenous theatre artists, and other initiatives, such as the department of Indigenous Theatre at the National Arts Centre. Are you hopeful that the strong Indigenous presence in theatre is helping with the work of reconciliation?

I am absolutely hopeful that the strong Indigenous presence in theatre is contributing to the work of reconciliation. In recent years, we’ve seen an incredible surge of creativity and visibility for Indigenous artists, from groundbreaking works on the stage to initiatives like the Indigenous Theatre department at the National Arts Centre. These efforts are not just about telling Indigenous stories—they’re about creating space for Indigenous artists to lead, reclaim, and innovate.

Theatre has always been a powerful medium for fostering understanding and empathy. When Indigenous voices are at the forefront, audiences are invited to experience our stories in a way that is honest, deeply personal, and rooted in lived experiences. This kind of storytelling breaks down barriers and encourages dialogue, which are crucial steps in reconciliation.

But it’s important to recognize that reconciliation is an ongoing process. It requires not just seeing Indigenous work on the stage but also supporting systemic change—ensuring Indigenous artists have the resources, platforms, and respect we deserve. Initiatives like those at the National Arts Centre, along with the many Indigenous-led projects across the country, are helping to create an infrastructure where our stories can thrive.

I believe that the presence of Indigenous stories in theatre helps shift perspectives, challenge assumptions, and inspire action. It allows us to reclaim our narratives and share the beauty, resilience, and complexity of our cultures. While there is still much work to do, the momentum we’re seeing now gives me hope for a future where Indigenous stories are not only celebrated but recognized as essential to the fabric of Canadian culture.

And finally, do you have a favourite piece of advice for aspiring playwrights – particularly for aspiring writers of musicals? 

A piece of advice for aspiring playwrights—especially those writing musicals—is to lead with truth and let the story guide you. Start with a story that feels urgent, one that speaks to something deep within you. Musicals are a unique art form because they allow emotions to soar in ways that spoken words alone cannot, so lean into that. Use the music to express what words can’t say.

For aspiring musical writers, collaboration is key. Surround yourself with people who share your vision and bring strengths that complement your own. Whether it’s a designer, musical director, or choreographer, the best musicals come to life through a team that works together to elevate every aspect of the story.

Also, remember that musicals take time. Don’t be afraid to workshop your ideas, rewrite, and let the piece evolve. Sometimes it’s in hearing your work aloud, whether in a reading or with a few actors, that you’ll discover what’s missing or what resonates most. Be patient with the process.

Finally, write from a place of courage. If the story you’re telling scares you a little—if it feels vulnerable or too big—that’s probably the one you need to write. Musical theatre is about connection, and the more personal and honest your work is, the more it will resonate with audiences. Trust your instincts, and don’t be afraid to dream big.

Learn more about Corey Payette’s work and listen to music from his shows on his website: www.coreypayette.com