The soprano line dances over the harp and flute, the resonance enhanced by Battersea Arts Centre’s grand hall. The wordless phrase intertwines with the woodwind. Then, unexpectedly, its timbre changes. Ella Taylor places a hand over their mouth and pulses the sound, creating a wobbly effect as they ululate on a top B. The Philharmonia Orchestra swells as the instruments pick up Taylor’s melody. The vocal part rises once more, gathering power – and then, quite suddenly, disappears. There’s a collective tingle as the recording engineer gives conductor Oliver Zeffman and Taylor the thumbs up. This distinctive rendering of the theme to The White Lotus is the bonus track on the Is A Rose EP (Platoon), in which Taylor is the soloist for the second song, ‘And So’. In that carefully contoured version of Caroline Shaw’s song cycle, Taylor’s voice is a balm for heartbreak, their voice capturing the poignancy and pain of love on ‘borrowed time’.

The song cycle was the centrepiece of the first Classical Pride, an event that has developed from a singular Barbican concert to an annual series created to celebrate LGBTQ+ composers and musicians. Taylor’s powerful ululation brought the inaugural 2023 event to an ecstatic close – an extraordinary celebration of artistry and diversity. Away from Classical Pride, some people might be surprised to hear Taylor’s filigree top Bs. Their latest publicity photos show the singer cross-armed in a vintage shirt with the caption: ‘This is what a soprano looks like’. It’s a response to the idea that those with the voice type must be ultra-feminine, and present with traits associated with that ideal: long hair, makeup, a dress and so on.

‘If I’m singing as myself – rather than in costume – I don’t always fit people’s expectation of a Mimì,’ says Taylor, reflecting on a recent video they posted on Instagram. We’re used to someone like Angela Gheorghiu, I say, and Taylor agrees. ‘Yes, a soprano with flowing hair. I don’t look like that – and I don’t want to – but I do want to sing the music.’ Thank goodness. Taylor’s versatile soprano is becoming suited to verismo, with a wider, increasingly powerful palette. It’s the reason they got the call to jump in to sing the Komponist (Composer) in Strauss’s Ariadne auf Naxos at Staatsoper Hamburg. ‘I had a couple of weeks to learn the music,’ says Taylor, speaking to me in between rehearsals. ‘I haven’t sung any Strauss roles on stage – with the exception of the Fourth Maid in Elektra.’ This is somewhat underselling the experience: the production in question was directed by Christof Loy and conducted by Antonio Pappano during his final months with the Royal Opera in 2024. It followed Taylor’s Covent Garden debut the previous year, where they sung Tebaldo in Don Carlo.

‘I find Strauss’ harmonic language fascinating,’ Taylor continues. ‘I spent the first few days after the call glued to the piano, trying to work out how the score fits together. The role can be sung by a mezzo-soprano, but some of the music is actually quite high.’ Many roles in opera can be sung by multiple voice types, particularly when, as in the case of the Composer, the part is a trouser role. Looks can be deceiving if we allow them to be – when it comes to opera, gender presentation and identity have always been fluid. Travesti parts are a well-established element of both historic and contemporary opera. And, as with many other aspects of opera, our approaches to gender fluidity on stage are changing. Cross-dressing and the ‘accidental’ same-sex encounters that ensue (Così fan tutte being the classic example) is, thankfully, no longer titivating in the same way it was to 18th-century audiences. It’s something that Taylor, as a trans person, takes seriously. ‘Ultimately, though,’ they say, ‘it’s about the music, and the Komponist is fantastic to sing.’

The Staatsoper Hamburg debut is the latest in a long list. Last year, Taylor starred in Dutch National Opera’s new work The Shell Trial and appeared in several major concerts including Joe Hisaishi’s The End of the World with Future Orchestra Classics at Suntory Hall in Tokyo. The Royal Academy of Music (RAM) recently conferred Taylor with associateship, recognising the former student’s contribution to both song and opera. Taylor was part of a new generation of mixed-voice choristers, as institutions gradually began to reach beyond a singularly male sound. (It’s a slow process: it was only last year that girls first performed in St Paul’s Cathedral Choir, with the institution taking a mere 900 years to allow a mixed-voice membership.) The soprano started singing as a chorister at Sheffield Cathedral, then the Chapel of Lancing College in Sussex (they won BBC Radio 2 Young Chorister of the Year in 2010) before graduating from RAM and the National Opera Studio. ‘Being a chorister was a good grounding, musically. It taught me everything I needed to know. When you’re singing evensong four times a week you learn to pick things up quickly.’

We’re nearing the end of our allotted Zoom time, and my final question burns in my throat. ‘Ah yes, I was thinking you hadn’t asked me anything directly trans-related,’ Taylor says, kindly. I notice my face blush slightly, then tellingly. Damn video calls. ‘I have to lead with it in many conversations,’ Taylor continues, ‘because in most run-of-the-mill professional situations, people misgender me.’ In the best-case scenarios, people apologise, and try to use the correct pronouns (they/them) in recognition of Taylor’s identification as non-binary. In others, they don’t. ‘I had to give up being upset, otherwise I would be upset all the time,’ says Taylor. ‘I would rather somebody had an honest and slightly awkward conversation with me than didn’t bother to try and learn anything, you know; it’s always better that way around.’

Researchers such as Susan Hallam (emerita professor of education and music psychology at the UCL Institute of Education) have observed gendering in musical instrument education, and the long-term impact this has on the industry – all-male brass sections, to give a simplified example. There have been initiatives to ‘de-gender’ instruments – encouraging girls to play the tuba, guitar and bassoon – but the human voice is just that: human. For trans singers, embracing identity has another layer of complexity, as their voice type is conditioned to a particular gender association. The theme is also covered by Laura Kaminsky in her 2014 opera As One (librettists Mark Campbell and Kimberly Reed), which splits voices as ‘Hannah Before’ (baritone) and ‘Hannah After’ (mezzo-soprano), tracing a story of medical transition from male to female.

Change is afoot. ‘Mixed voice’ choirs rather than SATB (soprano, alto, tenor, bass) are encouraged in many schools, as it’s more inclusive for boys whose voices are changing, young people who may not identify with the sex they were assigned at birth as well as being generally more accessible to those who are new to choral music. ‘I understand that it will take some people a long time to understand what a non-binary singer is because gender is built into everything,’ says Taylor. ‘I see my own voice as completely ungendered.’ And that’s something that we can do, too. ON

Ella Taylor is the Komponist in Strauss’s Ariadne auf Naxos at Staatsoper Hamburg until 16 February. staatsoper-hamburg.de

This article originally appeared in the Spring 2025 issue of Opera Now. Never miss an issue – subscribe today