At dawn on a day in August, biologist Santiago Monroy and producer José Álvarez traversed through the Colombian forests and moors in search of birds. They carried with them parabolic microphones, recorders, cameras and field gear. They traveled more than 600 miles to gather audio. The journey took them from the Eastern Plains to the Chingaza moor, and finally to the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta. Most days they woke up at 3 a.m. to adjust themselves to nature’s rhythms and record birds’ most active moments.
The duo ventured forth on their expedition with the sole mission of attempting something beautiful yet difficult: a recreation of their country’s national anthem—through the sounds of its biodiversity.
The natural version of the anthem was created for the United Nations global summit on biodiversity—known as COP16—in Cali, Colombia, that occurred in late October.
Months before Álvarez and Monroy found themselves traversing Colombia’s landscape, Sura, an insurance company sponsor of COP16, allied with McCann Colombia, an advertising agency, to create something meaningful for the summit. Sura and McCann were looking for an idea that would transcend COP16. They wanted to create something new that would show off the host country’s biodiversity.
“We said, if [biodiversity] is the protagonist, it must have a voice. And if it has a voice, it could sing. What should it sing? Well, that patriotic symbol that is a symbol of unity and identity—the anthem of Colombia,” says Alejandro Barrera, executive creative director for McCann Colombia.
When composer Miguel de Narváez—who was brought to the team to execute the anthem—received the call for the project, he thought, “This will probably be the most important project we’ve ever done.”
The song is made up of 41 birds, three amphibians, one jaguar and some whales, and it offers a glimpse into one of the world’s most biodiverse countries. As of the end of 2023, Colombia has more bird species than any other country in the world. By using the sounds of the country’s ecosystems, the team hoped to amplify the crucial role of protecting and conserving Colombia’s biodiversity.
The project was a “marvelous synergy,” says Narváez, “to achieve something unique that has never been done before in the history of Colombia.”
Led by Narváez, the anthem relied heavily on Álvarez, who produced the song, and Monroy, who designed the expedition to capture the sounds.
“The anthem has a key we had to respect. It has a melody. It has a compass and a meter,” Narváez says. “But birds and biodiversity don’t sing in tune.”
Álvarez and Narváez first started out playing with samples from acoustic libraries. They did the intro of the anthem and realized it was possible to recreate a version of the anthem using birds. Due to that initial success, they made a decision: “Let’s take this project further, let’s record in the field,” Narváez recalls.
Monroy, a biologist who had worked with bioacoustics before, planned and designed the route that would take them along Colombia’s mountains—from lower slopes to higher ones. They would go through and record in Civil Society Nature Reserves: a category of nature reserves where any person who owns rural or natural property commits to caring for one or several ecosystems.
“We needed an expedition where we would move a lot,” Monroy says. The team decided to start at a lower elevation and then move up, from the Rey Zamuro Reserve in the Eastern Plains to the Ecopalacio Reserve in the Chingaza moor. They spent 12 days driving and hiking, rested one day, and flew for a day to the Yumake Natural Reserve in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta.
The anthem evokes identity, and Monroy thought that by designing the expedition this way they would be able to capture different sounds that would evoke identity across different communities.
“If you live in the plains, you will hear a bird of the plains and recognize it. And if you live in Bogotá, you will hear a bird of Bogotá and recognize it,” he says.
Each reserve the team visited offered a different acoustic opportunity. Monroy explains the project wouldn’t have been possible without the people from the Civil Society Nature Reserves doing conservation work with the local wildlife. “They are the guardians of biodiversity,” Monroy says.
Álvarez and Monroy crossed through these reserves, where they recorded birds, monkeys, frogs and many landscape sounds. At one of those many reserves, Finca La Berreadora in San Pedro de Jagua, the pair were helped by Gabriel Oneiber Novoa Moreno, a local farmworker who had recently begun a birdwatching business.
Novoa Moreno, who was born at the estate, previously only worked in livestock and agriculture before adding the birdwatching business to his quiver. But now, he and his family are also interested in conservation, and they centered their birdwatching business around the iconic local bird named the cock-of-the-rock. Native to the Andean cloud forests and mostly known in Peru, the orange-and-black bird is known for its large mohawk-like crest that almost completely covers its bill.
There, at Finca La Berreadora, Novoa Moreno took Monroy and Álvarez out to a lek, a gathering of male birds putting on a show. The team recorded dozens of the native birds gathering around to perform their courtship—showing off their bright feathers, smooth moves and grunting calls.
Later, when Novoa Moreno heard the anthem, he marveled at it, saying it made him think that “what we’re doing—protecting and conserving—is the best thing we can do.”
After Monroy and Álvarez finished the expedition, Álvarez had over 700 different sounds and more than 20 hours of ambient noise. There were sounds from jaguars, cane toads, monkeys and birds, like the oriole blackbird, masked mountain tanager and more. The anthem’s melody was built by listening to each bird and placing their calls with the corresponding notes in the song. In some cases when the notes weren’t the correct ones, Álvarez modified the pitch of the bird’s song.
“The most complex part was to make it sound sublime, to make it feel real,” says Álvarez, “and to touch the heartstrings of Colombians.”
In addition to building the melody, Narváez says, they also had to incorporate other layers in the background to give the song a fuller sound. The team took around four weeks to build the audio after their time in the field.
When COP16 arrived, the anthem was unveiled, and the response from people in Colombia was overwhelming. “Some people tell us it’s the first time they’ve listened to the anthem seven times straight,’” says Narváez.
The audio has called attention to the biodiversity crisis threatening many of the earth’s ecosystems. Colombia, one of the most megadiverse countries, protects and conserves around 31 percent of its terrestrial areas. But many habitats across the country continue to face illegal activities such as mining and deforestation.
Many commenters on social media say that the anthem reminds them of the rich biodiversity for which the country is known.
On a foggy day during the expedition, Monroy and Álvarez spotted a guide with a group of tourists on the road with binoculars looking at a bird above them. They were passing through the Chingaza moor, near the capital city of Bogotá, when they decided to get out of the car and see what was going on. The bird turned out to be a daytime owl.
The owl sang a melodic tune for 40 minutes that Álvarez recorded.
That moment during their dayslong expedition through Colombia turned out to be an essential part of their bigger project. “The owl became the protagonist,” Álvarez says.
The first three notes of the anthem belong to the owl.