3.4.i Lipote as the Loner Tree and the "Fiery Edge”


I chose to make the main character a fruit tree that is not originally indigenous to Borneo due to research and comments from scientists. Many people who study forests have suggested that there are in fact no real primary and untouched forests, and that it is likely all areas of forest were at some point co-inhabited by man (Seeland, 1997). Charles M. Peters discussed this in an interview saying:


You walk through it, you think you are in pristine forest and the people tell you, “Oh, no, no, this is an orchard that we have created.” These forms of indigenous resource management had been invisible to us. There are tracts of forest all over the world in Brazil, in Africa, in Southeast Asia that have been intensively managed for generations by local people and that’s precisely why they are still forests — because they are important to local communities and carefully managed by them. And then somebody in a district forest office comes along and draws a circle and says, “This is a virgin protected area” and kicks the people out — that sort of thing happens a lot. (2018b: online)


One key marker that man has in the past inhabited an area of rainforest is the presence of foreign trees. Borneo, and the surrounding areas of south-east Asia, are often described as a fruit desert. This means that there is a distinct lack of fruit trees. The presence of any fruit trees therefore implies that man has brought them there and planted them at some point, to create a more harvestable forest system. The Lipote tree or Syzygium polycephaloides (or curranii) is a type of fruit tree akin to plum. The Syzygium genus grows in wet tropical rainforest and the Lipote is a species of the genus native to the Philippines. I chose to use a tree that is not native to Borneo, but a seed of which could easily have been transported there, in order to make reference to this idea that there may be no areas of rainforest which have not at some point been touched and managed by man. The Lipote is also classed as a vanishing tree and so making use of it as the title of the work is helpful to promote its existence around the world.


The Lipote tree introduces itself as lonely in the libretto. In the popular science book by forester Peter Wohlleben The Hidden Life of Trees (2017: 169), he describes trees as having different personalities. In particular he cites Beech trees as bullies and Willow trees as loners. In contrast to the typical Western view that forests are predominantly competitive spaces where trees fight for resources and light, he believes that trees are communicating and acting cooperatively. In particular he mentions a 400-500 year old tree stump which he encountered in a forest as being kept alive. He postulates that the only way this stump could possibly be still alive is if it were being supported by its neighbours and supplied with nutrients from underground. He takes a particularly evocative anthropomorphic approach to the trees in his book. Many notable scientists have, however, criticised Wohlleben’s work and approach to the subject of forests and trees. In a review of Wohlleben’s book in the New Yorker by Robert Moor he cites an interview with silviculture professor Jürgen Bauhaus, who contests the representation of the tree stump being supported by other trees saying:


Bauhus put forward a leaner theory: the other trees are not sustaining that stump to glean its memories; they are keeping it alive to draw water through its vast root system, an act of pure, unthinking opportunism. (2021: online)


It interested me that some trees live more communally and others are more obviously separate to the group. Suzanne Simard’s work also touches upon this as she has monitored how family groups of the same species appear to help each other in forests by sharing resources. If this unusual Lipote tree were by some chance to have been planted in a Bornean rainforest, it is possible that it would not have a large number of related trees around it, thus giving it a lonelier existence than some of the other trees. The Lipote tree self-defines this way at the start of scene 3 saying (p. 7, lines 145-146): ‘I, a lonely Lipote tree, listen in the midst of this vertigo’.


In order for the Lipote to be able to grow into other types of land it also needs to be on the edge of the Rainforest. In the script this edge between the Rainforest and Palm Tree Plantation is called ‘the fiery edge’. In discussions with Dr Eichhorn, he suggested that the trees existing on the edge would quite possibly be attempting to extend across it to the land where the forest had been removed. In contrast to the polyphony of the surrounding Rainforest, I also imagined this edge to be expressed as a barrier through the use of white noise. The idea of this destroyed space around the Rainforest as a (fiery) edge and white noise came out of the workshop on scene 1. During this I explored different mythologies from traditional Bornean and Filipino cultures. I found the myth of Santelmo (Ramos, 1990) to have particular similarities with our story.  This is traditionally described as a ball of fire or blue light (possibly related to lightning) that appears on swamps or marshes. It is the lost soul of a man killed in heavy rains or a storm. In relation to this work’s narrative I imagined this ball of fire existing in the areas of trauma, such as the edge between Rainforest and Palm Tree Plantation. The Lipote describes their position on the edge of the rainforest in scene 3 as (p. 7, lines 147-148): ‘Rooted on the edge of the forest, / One side facing the sheer emptiness’ and later in the scene goes on to tell us (p. 8, lines 182-183): ‘I live on the fiery edge / Where past traumas deafen the soil’. At the end of the scene they describe the land beyond the edge saying (p. 9, lines 209-210): ‘I will push towards the white noise / Invade the shell-shocked land’. The Lipote again refers to it during the deforestation in scene 6 when it likens the experience of the Forest Garden there to its own experiences (p. 20, lines 499-502): ‘Is this what happened to our lands? / The fiery edge - / A white noise will surround your home.’


Considering the placement of the Lipote tree on the edge of the plantation, it is also possible that fungal or grafted root connections to trees were destroyed or cut during the process of deforestation in order to make space for the plantation. In reference to this Lipote’s character is sad and in a state of grief. They have experienced a deep trauma from the separation of itself from one half of its habitat. As such it is ready to revolt and so volunteers to help. Throughout the opera the Lipote meets three different worlds and in a sense undergoes three different trials of communication as it tries to pass on the message that it is in search of help. Even though it cannot communicate with humans, it is important that this message reaches us, as well as the rest of the ecosystem. As another key player in nature we also have the capacity to help and the audience can also be made to feel like this is not just the story of the rainforest, but also a major part of our story as a species. This constant call to action is not spoken sentimentally, or laden with feelings of guilt within the text, but rather as a pragmatic solution to a desperate and extreme situation. In scene 4, Lipote first encounters another tree (Palm Tree 1) and passes on the message. Tied into their message is the idea of balance and reciprocation as mentioned earlier in the rainforest commandments (p. 11, lines 241-247): ‘I am seeking help / In need of support / Anything given is always returned’ . Overall the Lipote and the whole forest repeat their message for help verbally 17 times, however ultimately they end up offering help to the human settlers, the people of the forest garden, in scene 7 (p. 25, line 619): ‘We will offer you our help’. The physical movement of Lipote is always referencing the SOS message, either by drawing it in the air, or at times repeating it in morse code. This movement referencing SOS can be seen towards the end of scene 3 at timecode 00:25:30 – end of scene. Here the “anthropomorphic moment” (Barad, 2012: online) is taking centre stage as the trees take on a human form to generate an empathy that will enable us to see their struggle, and also make us fully complicit in their distant lived experiences.