Thursday, May 21 • 7:00 PM
Historic Market Hall
Sisters of a Split Sky isn’t a “show” so much as a living, breathing ceremony—part multimedia concert, part story circle, part wake-up call. It’s billed as a musical spectacle exploring reconciliation and remembrance, but what you actually get is something rarer: a space where sound and image work together like prayer and pulse, guiding you into a world that feels both ancient and urgently now.
At the heart of the piece are two sisters—separated by worlds, trying to find their way back to what they share. Their journey isn’t framed like a tidy narrative with a bow on it. It’s a searching. A remembering. A return to the self through the self. Along the way they follow the teachings of the Eagle Feather, moving through a musical landscape that refuses to sit still, because the story it’s telling can’t afford to.
The sonic backbone is a powerful fusion of art and spirit. Composer-cellist Margaret Maria builds stunning post-classical soundscapes—wide, cinematic, and quietly relentless—while singer-drummer Janet McCue brings Native songs and storytelling that land with the force of lived experience. Together, they don’t “blend genres” like it’s a marketing line. They weave worlds. They hold tension. They make room for grief and beauty in the same breath.
Then there’s the anchor: The Conundrum—a striking canoe drum built by Peterborough artist David Hynes—played by four-time JUNO Award winner Mark Kelso. It’s not just percussion. It’s a heartbeat you can feel in your chest, a steady rhythm of unity and connection that keeps the whole performance grounded even as it reaches outward. When that drum speaks, it doesn’t ask for attention. It takes it.
And because this is a full-body experience, the visuals matter as much as the notes. Immersive projections create a shifting world where spirit, music, magic, and hope move together—sometimes gentle, sometimes electrifying, always intentional. The stage comes alive with the Curve Lake Children’s Drumming Group—an intergenerational reminder that culture isn’t preserved like a relic, it’s carried forward. Add celebrated dancer James Mixemong, and the performance gains another dimension: movement as language, dance as responsibility, presence as power.
Sisters of a Split Sky ultimately positions itself as something bigger than entertainment. It’s a sacred space—one where cultures bridge, divisions soften, and reconciliation is treated not as a slogan, but as a living practice. You don’t leave humming a catchy chorus. You leave feeling like you’ve been invited to listen differently: to the stories, to the silences, and to the shared humanity underneath it all.
