Bloodlines

d’bi.young continues her exploration of
family, generations and lineage in benu
at the Festival Voix d’Amériques

SECOND COMING: young

by NEIL BOYCE

She’s a dub poet, author, actor, playwright, teacher and social activist. But d’bi.young insists, “It’s all storytelling.”

For the Jamaican-Canadian artist, there’s enough cooking on every burner—and enough hats piled on her endless creative endeavours—to make the rest of us look like hopeless slackers.

She’s performed throughout Canada, the Caribbean, Latin America and Europe, and has already produced a wide catalogue of work in print, film, drama and dub poetry recordings. She’s been on HBO’s Def Poetry Jam and on Cuban television, appeared on stage in London for the touring production of Da Kink in My Hair, was featured in Lord Have Mercy! (the first ever Canadian black sitcom), and recently opened her own “dub theatre” in Toronto, where she teaches her craft to the youth.

All in all, not bad for someone just past 30.

d’bi was here last in 2008 with her Dora Mavor Moore-winning “one-oomaan” show, blood.claat. She returns for the Festival Voix d’Amériques, where she’ll perform her latest multi-character solo piece, benu (the second in a trilogy entitled sankofa), at Théâtre La Chapelle. As she prepares to embark upon a new, global phase in her career (South Africa is the furthest point on a busy tour so far), we spoke about work, dreams and magic.

Mirror: It’s close to two years since we last talked. You were doing blood.claat at MAI and bouncing your baby boy on your knee after the performance. How’s life going?

d’bi.young: I’m a mummy of two now! You know, I was pregnant during that performance in 2008 and I asked the production team not to say anything—I didn’t want to tell people so they’d be worried for me, watching me on stage jumping around. They’d be thinking more about the stunts I was doing as opposed to concentrating on the show.

M: So this new show is a continuation from the last?

DY: Yes, benu is the second of a trilogy that began with blood.claat. It looks at the daughter born at the end of the show—she’s grown up, and it starts with her having a baby of her own. I’m trying to look at three generations of women because I’m obsessed with lineage and passing on the bloodline—and what happens with each generation. It’s about death and rebirth, physically and metaphorically. The benu is the predecessor to the phoenix bird, its Egyptian ancestor. You know, as an artist, you begin to create and you really don’t know where it’s going to end up—you might think you have an idea, but as you grow, the piece also grows. So much of my work happens when I’m on stage with the audience—that’s where you get pushed and challenged and encouraged as a storyteller, right? It has to happen on stage.

M: You seem to be working everywhere and on every kind of project. What occupies your attention and imagination these days?

DY: You know, for me it all factors around storytelling. Remember when you were growing up, the fascination you had when somebody told you a story? That kind of awe and wonder? I feel that as we grow up, one of the things that happens is that we lose our belief in magic. I don’t think life ever ceases to be magnificent. There’s always something to be amazed by and my work is an attempt to uncover that in the day-to-day, to remind myself that it’s actually a phenomenal thing to be able to breathe and love and laugh. It’s an incredible thing we lose sight of.

M: If you do lose sight of it, what brings you back?

DY: It’s the breathing, it’s really about the breath—about being able to stop and say, “Okay what is the focus? What is the point in being here?” Is the point trying to cause no further harm? Is it being on a journey of enlightenment, is it learning how to love? Often I ask myself that.

Most recently, my passion is about food, food energy and how we eat—whether we eat with the idea of where food comes from. If it’s plant-based or animal food, what happens to that plant or animal, what is the process? And, am I connected to the greater life force? I don’t think that’s too esoteric or philosophical. We have to think about those things. We are energy, consciousness and matter—and sometimes as human beings we think we’re above all that. But we’re not: we are it. If we don’t treat our planet and ourselves properly... well, we are all witnessing the repercussions of the choices we’ve made.

M: Having children gives you an even stronger connection to that.

DY: My God, I’m telling you... Children are like a perpetual mirror: reflecting all of the things you want to become and all of the things you’re not.

BENU, FEB. 6–14 AT THÉÂTRE
LA CHAPELLE (3700 ST-DOMINIQUE)
TICKETS : (514) 843-7738,
LACHAPELLE.ORG