Edinburgh Fringe 2026
Aderyn/Bird
The Harebell Tellers
Genre: Story Songs, Storytelling, Theatrical Storytelling
Venue: The Scottish Storytelling Centre
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
Aderyn / Bird offers a gentle hour of folkloric tales and songs, drawing on bird mythology from across Britain. Ffion Phillips and Ailsa Dixon weave storytelling, cello and guitar together with Welsh and Scots language, creating an intimate, meditative atmosphere. Eagles, owls, wrens, sparrows and geese take flight through stories animated by movement, voice and music. A quiet, charming alternative to the louder, more frenetic offerings of the Fringe
Review
These calming, soothing tales and songs are charmingly told by the engaging Ffion Phillips and Ailsa Dixon, who take turns accompanying one another on cello and guitar. In the intimate George Mackay Brown Library, this feels like an appropriately close setting for a show rooted in the oral tradition. There is little need for spectacle when the performers have stories, music, language, decorative illustrations of their heroes, and the imagination of their audience at their disposal. When it might be a bit of a stretch for our imaginations, we are permitted to accept some situations such as seven brothers turning into geese as “…a freak metaphysical accident!”
These folkloric and mythological bird stories take us across ancient Britain and, as we travel, our journey is interlaced with chirps, twitters and gentle whispers of Welsh and Scots languages. The bilingual element is not presented as something that needs explaining; instead, the different sounds and rhythms of the languages become part of the musical texture of the performance. Both performers have an established connection with traditional storytelling and folk music, and their previous collaborations have similarly explored the relationship between language, landscape and place.
This meditative hour lulls its audience from one story into another as we hear of eagles, owls, wrens, sparrows and geese who are just some of the Aves of over 2,000 recognised genera across all living bird families. It becomes easy to picture the vividly described murmuration, the powerfully beating wings and the devastating plummet towards the Earth as the storytelling is animated with hand gestures, movement, facial expression and changes in tone of voice and intonation. There are some clever interjections of socio-political commentary about the mob mentality of the ill/mis-informed (take your pick) masses. There is an unadulterated innocence to this performance, with just a sprinkle of sarcastic insinuation for those who choose to hear it.
There is something particularly pleasing about being asked simply to listen. In an environment where so much Fringe performance competes for attention through volume, movement and visual stimulation, Aderyn / Bird takes the opposite approach. It trusts that a well-told story can create its own imagery, and that an audience is capable of filling in the spaces between the words. The result is a gentle invitation to slow down and allow the stories to take flight.
The cello and guitar provide an unobtrusive but important thread through the hour. Rather than interrupting the storytelling, the instruments help to establish and maintain its atmosphere, with music and spoken word moving comfortably between one another. There is also a pleasing sense of partnership between Phillips and Dixon as they alternate between telling and accompanying, allowing neither performer to dominate.
The stories themselves have the quality of folklore: strange, beautiful, sometimes unsettling and often difficult to separate entirely from the natural world. Birds become more than simply creatures within the tales; they carry messages, memories and connections between different places and states of being. The show’s journey moves between forests, oceans and other worlds, drawing on the rich folklore of these islands.
At times the deliberately measured pace risks becoming a little too uniform, particularly for an audience accustomed to the constantly changing stimuli of the Fringe. But this is also fundamental to the show’s character. Aderyn / Bird is not trying to compete with the louder, faster or more visually extravagant productions surrounding it. It offers something much quieter.
For an hour, we are encouraged to listen rather than scroll, to imagine rather than watch, and to reconnect with stories that have travelled through generations. Phillips and Dixon deliver them with warmth, musicality and an evident respect for the traditions from which they come.
Aderyn / Bird won’t be for those seeking high-energy theatrical spectacle, but for anyone willing to settle into a story, listen closely and let their imagination do some of the work, it is a charming and gently immersive hour.
