Collaborations between classical and rock musicians have a mixed history at best, but an attempt by the Hallé Orchestra and Elbow to meet in the middle seems to be working
THE HALLÉ IS Britain's oldest symphony orchestra. In a rehearsal room in Manchester, England, its players are being taught how to sing the word "whoah". Guy Garvey, lead singer of British rock band Elbow, is at the helm, taking these distinguished musicians through the riff of the visceral Elbow hit Grounds for Divorce.First he shows them how it's done, his voice impeccably in tune and achingly expressive. Then it's over to them.
Garvey, who wants the riff to be sung in a primeval manner, is not overly impressed with the results. “That’s all right,” he says kindly. “But now do it three times as loud.”
The 70 or so Hallé players, piqued by the challenge, respond with gusto. The result is like nothing I’ve heard before. The hook from the track becomes an earthy, bluesy wall of vocal sound.
On the face of it, this is one of the most unlikely collaborations you’re likely to hear, a pairing of classical music royalty and purveyors of indie-rock intensity. Elbow and the Hallé, who both hail from Manchester, have been brought together by the city’s international festival for a couple of ground-breaking concerts this month. In the middle of the melee is composer Joe Duddell, who was given the task of picking Elbow songs and arranging them for the orchestra.
“I would suggest tracks,” says Duddell, who studied in nearby Salford and whose work has been performed at the Proms concert series in London. “They would say, ‘f*** off, we’re not doing that one!”.
I ask Duddell, a huge Elbow fan, if the band are as familiar with his own music. “No,” he says. “Only nerds like you know my stuff.”
Duddell moves band and orchestra on to the ethereal tune Starlings. Garvey is supposed to sing "Darling, is this love?" before a big, brassy chord chimes in. But he cocks it up. Throwing his bearded chin back in laughter, Garvey turns to Richard Jupp, Elbow's drummer, for help.
“Can you give me a cue from what Joe’s doing?” he asks Jupp, seated 20 yards away among the Hallé percussionists.
“No!” says Jupp, helpfully.
This isn't the first time Elbow have worked with an orchestra. Earlier this year they played their album, The Seldom Seen Kid, with the BBC Concert Orchestra.
“This Hallé gig was planned before the BBC thing,” says Garvey, “and of course we saved the best stuff for the northern crew.”
For this reason, the Manchester concerts will include songs from all four Elbow albums.
The BBC gig was all about showing the tracks off in an orchestral context, keeping them as close to what you hear on the record as possible. But the new arrangements for the Hallé are much more ambitious.
"You don't do things to the songs for no reason," says Duddell, explaining why he has added a soft-focused, slow-paced introduction to Mirrorball, a dreamy song about waking up next to a lover. "I was listening to its lyrics. They're beautiful. You get this chirpy doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo in the piano and guitar. But no one gets up that f***ing brightly in the morning." This remark produces gales of laughter from Elbow.
“So I was trying to make it a bit more slumbery, then you open the door and the music becomes bright,” Duddell adds.
Garvey loves the change. “It brings the lyric a little closer to home,” he says. “What he’s written is so exposed, but so lush.”
As well as composing an introduction to open the concert, dotted with Elbow melodies, Duddell has added orchestral variations to Weather to Fly, which will close the first half.
"I wanted to complement the songs, but also add something new," he says. "There's a danger you'll make a right arse of it – it's a fine line between a good arrangement and something really cheesy. All that pissing about at the end of Weather to Flycould have gone massively wrong. You couldn't do something so extended after every song."
ISN'T THERE A danger that the essence of Elbow's music is diluted, that its intimacy, emotional rawness and delicate colours will be swamped by the Hallé's full orchestral garb? You can easily imagine how an anthemic tune such as One Day Like This, already laden with string-playing, translates into symphonic pop, but the fragile loneliness of a song such as Friend of Oursis another matter. Craig Potter, keyboard player, producer and brother of Mark, says: "When you hear a song you've written being played by the orchestra, it's like it turns into a different thing. Yet it's also so familiar that you're immediately comfortable with it."
During the rehearsal, I hear the new additions, everything from haunting duets between marimbas and woodblocks to full-on brassy explosions. What’s unusual, and riveting, about this is how band and orchestra are working in equal partnership. The worlds of pop and classical have collided many times, but I’ve never found the results musically memorable. Either the band are dazzled by the prestige of the orchestra and get swallowed up in a soup of stringy sentimentality, or the orchestra is reduced to providing a backing track. This feels and sounds different, and Garvey suggests why.
“The idea of doing something with the Hallé came up last year, around the time of their 150th anniversary,” he says. “They were asking if we would be up for something, then the festival came along and made it possible. We were very keen that the orchestra should do more than just be a backing track. They’re the Hallé, after all, so it’s a pretty big deal.”
ALTHOUGH GARVEY THINKS the settings enhance the intimacy and range of Elbow’s music, he isn’t blind to the potential pitfalls.
“We’re still working out how the dynamics of each tune are going to go,” he says. “If you try to do the full rock thing with an orchestra, you’re in danger of it getting a bit Meatloaf, with the backing-band problem again. So we’re stripping back what we’re doing and meeting in the middle.”
There is clearly a warm relationship between the players and the band. The Hallé members I talk to are full of praise, declaring Garvey’s voice “better than a lot of the classical singers we get working with us normally”. Double-bassist Beatrice Schirmer says there’s a musical reason why the collaboration works: “Elbow’s songs move so slowly, and they don’t have crazy harmony changes all the time. That’s an approach that fits really well with us as an orchestra.”
The Hallé have one of the warmest string sounds in Britain. They sound at home with the lyrical melancholy of Elbow’s music. But horn-player Julian Plummer thinks there’s a deeper connection.
“They’re so Mancunian as a band – you can hear it in Guy’s voice, his lyrics,” he says. “It’s definitely a northern sound. It’s a great thing for the city to put us together.”
Garvey’s grandfather used to take him to Hallé concerts, and when he died, his sister Becky took over.
“I’ve grown up knowing all about them,” Garvey says. “They’re one of the reasons I’m proud to be from Manchester. I was just trying not to cry all the way through the first rehearsal.”
He thinks of these concerts as creating something unique for the people of Manchester, a musical tribute to the city. “We’ve written love songs to Manchester on every record we’ve made,” he says. “And these gigs are just for the people in the room – they’re not going to be filmed or recorded, and we’re not making s**tloads of money from them. It’s just about making two very special evenings for those who are there.”
( – Guardianservice)
Elbow and the Hallé Orchestra play Bridgewater Hall, Manchester, on July 8 and 9
