Bird Songs of Opera at Leach Botanical Gardens

Photo credit: Tom Lupton

Guest Review from Charles Rose

On the bright Sunday afternoon of June 15, Renegade Opera performed Bird Songs of Opera at the Leach Botanical Gardens. For the return of their popular program, Renegade Opera took the show to many venues across the Metro area, each one a bit different to account for the unique geographies of each outdoor space. 

Before the concert I walked around and listened to the ambient sounds of the garden. Crows and sparrows sang above the canopy, while a light breeze slithered through the trees. Patrons stopped to watch a wily western cottontail before it would run back into the ground cover. Oregon grape berries were starting to ripen. Before the performance, the audience sat around the pavilion chatting and browsing the Sunday Oregonian, enacting their own bird chatter. It makes one wonder what the birds are talking about: are they giving mating calls, gossiping, or simply singing for their own pleasure? 

Maeve Strier | Photo Credit: Jaren Kerr

Maeve Strier walked into the pavilion, accordion in hand, singing the Humming Chorus from Madame Butterfly. The costume had a Mad Hatter-vibe–in fact all the costumes were unique and colorful, capturing the essence of each bird’s personality. Maeve accompanied each performance, interacted with each bird and led the audience around the Botanical Gardens so we could “find” each bird on our expedition. We walked quietly and respectfully to not scare them off. I wished we could have heard the ambient birds a bit better over the sound of gravel crunching beneath our feet, however. We also received a sheet of a half-dozen stickers to place in spots along our travels–but honestly, I just took them home to put on my water bottle. 

I need not go over all the instances where composers took inspiration from bird songs. Birds were the first musicians, after all. I did appreciate some of the creative spins on what constitutes a “bird song.” During this opening announcement, the performers scattered around the gardens repeated short phrases from their respective arias, as if calling out to each other. Using the music in this way was refreshing and inventive. 

Madeline Ross | Photo credit Jaren Kerr

Madeline Ross sang the Queen of the Night aria from Mozart’s The Magic Flute under the canopy, on the large circular bridge. Her demeanor swapped between the furious and the coquettish, as her hunger for ants became overwhelming. The choice of birds wasn’t incidental: Ross played the northern flicker, whose rapid one-tone call is reminiscent of the famous repeated high notes of the Queen of the Night Aria. 

The audience could sometimes stand very close to the performers, allowing us to admire the details in makeup and costumes that would be lost in a giant stage– such as the textures on Ross’ orange and black dress. Those who were further away had a different experience: the performance blended into the soundscape of the gardens, making it feel like true bird watching, trying to pick out one sound amongst many. 

Jesse Preis | Photo credit: Jaren Kerr

After a short walk down to the daffodil-dotted field field, Jesse Preis performed “Una fortiva lagrima,” from Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore as a pink mourning dove. Before the performance a yellow monarch flew by. Preis was weeping and hugging the trees, declaring their sorrows to whomever would listen. The mourning dove’s call is a soft cooing between two notes, reminiscent of the dark minor key aria. 

Maeve Strier and Madeliene Tran | Photo Credit: Jaren Kerr

Madeleine Tran relished in the performance as a red-tailed hawk–a common sight around Portland. Tran performed “Chacun le sait,” from Donizetti’s La fille du Régiment, while doing some air-jousting. The number does open with some impressive repeated high Cs, apropos of the bird theme but not at all sounding like the harsh squeal of the red-tailed hawk. I suspect the connection is more thematic: the number is a rallying cry for the opera’s titular regiment, playing into the bellicose nature of the hawk.

Abigal Krawson | Photo credit: Jaren Kerr

Not too far away from the Manor House in the “back 5,” Abigail Krawson playing a wild duck waded in the creek in goulashes, splashing the water with a small orange paddle. Maeve would respond with calls of their own, like a true birder. Their performance of “Les oiseaux,” from Offenbach’s Les contes d’Hoffman was the most playful of the show. Similarly to above, the performance focused on the common mallard’s personality, instead of its distinctive quack. 

Claire Robertson-Preis | Photo credit: Jaren Kerr

Claire Robertson Preis then sang “Čury mury fuk,” from Dvorák’s Rusalka. Preis focused on the American crow’s curiosity and proclivity for collecting, in line with the witch’ cunning. The crow loves its little trinkets–buttons, stones, coins, any small object with aesthetic appeal. We all had our chance during the song to give the crow our own trinket, in exchange for one of their own. I was told that when rehearsing, a crow did indeed call back. They left a trinket for the crow, in a nice bit of synchronicity. 

The last number had all performers join together, for “Dôme épais,” from Lakmé by Léo Delibes, also known as the Flower Duet. For some thematic continuity, the birds repeated their calls before the number started. It was a great way to end the performance, bringing everyone together for one final hurrah. At the end of the show, Madeline Ross gave a brief statement about ongoing political events, and asked what engaging with democracy means for us. This political theme was not woven throughout the performance, but the environmental themes were certainly there, and the environment is certainly political. The reverence with which the singers and audience treated the grounds and the birds is inspiring, and we should take these lessons about how to listen to the sounds of the world back home with us.