What: The Gift
Where: Metro Studio, 1411 Quadra St.
When: 7:30 p.m. Friday and Saturday
Tickets: $20 and $18 (intrepidtheatre.com or Ticket Rocket at 250-590-6291)
Mayne Island artist/performer John Aitken says he didn’t speak until he was 18 years old.
It might be linked to his turbulent upbringing. His aboriginal mother, who died when Aitken was seven, was beaten by his father, an alcoholic.
Save for the rare utterance and occasional noise, Aitken didn’t say one word throughout his childhood and most of his teenage years.
On Friday and Saturday, the Coast Salish 48-year-old is joined by actor Shelley MacDonald for performances of his autobiographical show The Gift at Metro Studio.
Through movement, drumming, dance and mask work, the 50-minute piece tells the story of Aitken’s growing up and how he eventually found his voice.
Aitken’s father, a Scot, died when his son was 13. After that, Aitken was placed in ministry care. When he turned 18, his case worker presented an ultimatum.
“She said: ‘John, you’re going out of care. I’m not going to be working with you any more. You either learn to sign or you begin to speak.’ So I decided I needed to speak,” he said.
Before that, Aitken, one of six children, had relied on others to communicate with the world. At restaurants, for example, he would either get someone else to order for him or just use his finger to point out menu choices.
Forcing himself to talk in his late teens was difficult. The words didn’t come easily. And Aitken had trouble with some sounds, such as the letter R. He recalls once asking a waitress for a Sprite and being teased about his mispronunciation.
“That’s just one clear memory I have. I knew it was going to be difficult,” he said.
About this time, he moved to Victoria, where he lived for about a decade. Aitken had started hip-hop dancing at age 15. In the city, he began studying dance with Stages Dance and Lynda Raino.
“The dance was great,” he said. “It was another way of me expressing myself, because I didn’t have to say anything.”
Aitken was particularly impressed with Raino, who became a mentor. He never forgot once rehearsing with her and witnessing the utter sense of abandonment Raino put into her dance.
“She showed me at that moment what I need to do with my own physical body. Whenever I’m on stage, every fibre, every essence of me is engaged.”
Aitken created The Gift with collaborator Gail Noonan, a Mayne Island animator. The partnership came about following a B.C. ferry ride during which Aitken mentioned to Noonan how he had been silent until his late teens.
Several days later, she contacted him about the possibility of creating a theatre piece inspired by his unusual story.
He agreed immediately. Yet Aitken admits during the early stages of The Gift’s creation, about five years ago, he often felt like dropping out of the project. Reliving the past was more painful than he thought.
“I was being triggered. There was stuff, especially to do with my dad. There was a lot of dad stuff,” he said.
In Victoria, Aitken trained at Camosun College to be a nurse’s aide, and then a First Nations family support worker. He’s also a carver and videographer.
Although well-spoken on the phone, Aitken said years of not talking left their mark. Today, he thinks before speaking, choosing only words he knows he can pronounce clearly.
“Even my partner says: ‘I don’t hear any speech impediment.’ I go: ‘Well, if you had me read from a book, you’d be able to tell immediately.’ ”
The Gift has helped Aitken recover from the emotional damage he endured as a child and a teen.
But, he said, the scars remain. Part of recovery has meant simply accepting he’ll never completely heal.
Nonetheless, The Gift — which has been performed at William Head Institution, as well as in Vancouver and on Galiano and Pender islands — is intended to show a good life can follow years of family dysfunction.
“The piece is ultimately about celebration,” Aitken said. “You can go through all this violence and you can come out in the end with being OK. That’s what this is all about.”