Hundreds honour Kelly Fraser at vigil

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This article was published 04/01/2020 (2120 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Hundreds stood around a sacred fire at The Forks Saturday afternoon, celebrating the life and mourning the loss of Kelly Fraser, a singer who used her voice to do much more than sing before her death in December at the age of 26.

It was a voice that reached thousands, one that struck the ear differently than most others playing on the radio, not only because of the language in which she often sang, but because of the story she was telling. 

“We believe singing is a gift that’s given to us by the great spirit, and she shared that gift,” said Henry McKay, who was one of dozens of people who brought a drum to the Oodena Circle, striking it in unison as the fire burned. 

Born in 1993, in Igloolik, Nunavut, Fraser made her identity as an Inuit person a central element in her identity as a performer. She turned hits by artists such as Rihanna into stunning versions in Inuktitut. In her original songs, her politics and cultural ideas merged, using her voice as a vehicle to express her pride in her people and frustration with the structures that blocked their progress and created unspeakable trauma.

“We don’t even have enough money to compete, barely even have enough food to eat,” she sang on Fight for the Rights, a standout track from her 2017 album Sedna, centred around Indigenous land rights. “I’ll fight for my land and I won’t back down. We can take it back next time around.”

Not surprisingly, Fraser’s acclaim grew as her voice became more magnified, and she soon collected a Juno nomination and an Indspire award win.

Fraser’s personal mission — to advocate for mental health, cultural preservation and human rights — became ever clearer as her influence grew.

“I’m just trying to make our language and culture stronger through music, that’s all,” she tweeted a week before her death by suicide on Christmas Eve. 

 t the vigil, it was evident that Fraser had done just that: hundreds of people encircled the fire as songs and prayers were shared loud enough for all to hear — a fitting tribute to a person who spent her life trying to inculcate public pride in Inuit and Indigenous identity.

River Steele, a friend of Fraser’s who helped organize the event, said Fraser’s music was confrontational and unabashed, saying out loud something many people felt but couldn’t express quite as effectively. It’s his hope that part of his friend will be a key part of her legacy.

“Her body may be gone, but I know she still exists,” he said. “Every time someone plays a song, she’ll be reinforced in all of us.”

What made Fraser’s music so powerful to Lucy Pavez, a local artist who became a devoted fan, was her ability to capture raw emotion and present it, undistilled, to the world. 

Will Landon, whose drumming and singing pierced the cold air as the sun set, grabbed a megaphone and told the crowd he’d miss Fraser, who became a friend and a confidante, as well as an inspiration to him.

“We have to take the fire and the gift that she possessed and carry it forward,” he said.

Lisa Strong first heard Fraser perform just before Christmas, at a powwow at Red River College. Strong, a mother of two Inuit daughters, said Fraser’s message of decolonization and spirit meant more than she could express. 

“It was very touching hearing her sing, seeing that she could come from such humble beginnings and sing with such a beautiful, strong voice,” she said. “For my daughters, for other Inuit children, for all people, it won’t be forgotten.”

As a group of drummers chanted, one man turned to his son and told him to listen closely. 

“You can hear her, can’t you?”

ben.waldman@freepress.mb.ca