Dressed all in black, Brett Anderson is channelling the elliptical yearning of Echo and the Bunnymen’s 1984 song The Killing Moon. To his left, Paraorchestra percussionist Harriet Riley conjures a moody ache out of double-bowed vibraphone keys. Surfing atop currents of orchestral strings are flutes, whose trilling potential is kept in check here – this post-punk anthem requires a ghostly keen rather than anything more florid. On classical guitar, Paraorchestra’s Tony Remy is equally restrained, allowing himself some Spanish-tinged latitude only towards the end.
The Paraorchestra’s musical director, Charles Hazlewood, meanwhile, dapper of moustache, plays several instruments, often at once, and still has hands left over to lead the ensemble. It numbers 10 tonight, culled from the Paraorchestra’s “80 or 90” members, 50 of whom identify as disabled. This is an orchestra designed not only to break down ableist barriers, but also to dissolve the boundaries between orchestral music and the rest.
