Marion Montgomery: Interview 2

The musical marriage would seem to be a very enviable thing - to be married partners who both perform, and can share to the full their interest in music. Another outstanding example, of course, that of John and Cleo. In your marriage, would you say it has been particularly valuable for you both to be musical?

Marion: Who’s first?

Laurie: You.

Marion: I knew that. I knew you were going to drop me in it.

Laurie: Well, I’ll go first.

Marion: Go first.

Laurie: Well, it’s wonderful and it’s terrible because we’re together all the time. Most of my neighbourhood friends leave for the office at eight in the morning, get back at six in the evening, go for a pint; they’re home at seven, they have dinner, watch the News At Ten, and go to bed. But we’re actually together most of the time not working together all the time, but I’m in the house. Which is marvellous, until it gets . . . constant. So I do down the pub at lunchtime, and in the evening now and again. It has its pros and cons.

Marion: Laurie’s life has gotten away from the Oldham, Lancashire pattern, I think. Listen we don’t talk very much about this sort of thing; so one’s always surprised at other people’s attitudes. Not just Oldham the English pattern is: the chap goes to the pub for lunch, meets his mates; it’s just that Laurie’s is upgraded in the sense that instead of darts he plays golf. On the other hand, I love for him to go and play golf, to go down and have his time with his friends and part and parcel of that, I’m sure, is exactly what he said, because we are together constantly.

There isn’t the kind of desperation that a woman may have when her husband spends all his time in the pub. In Laurie’s case he’s in a heads down on the piano, heads down writing arrangements—that tunnel-vision thing is there. And that would drive any man up the wall. I’m content and happy about his golf, as he is about me going out to lunch with my girl-friends. I believe in men’s clubs and women’s clubs and I’m a very liberated woman but I believe in that division. The privacy of it. And if we have any problem, it’s, as Laurie says, this lack of privacy.

Laurie: But we do have marvellous musical moments at home, don’t we where we just get round the piano and rehearse, and magic happens.

That’s what I mean you have the great asset of being able to share that aspect of both your lives.

Laurie: And we have very similar musical backgrounds, don’t we?

Marion: Yes, really church and stuff like that.

Laurie: We don’t disagree a lot about the way a number should be done, do we? I mean, you always do it the way I say it should be done!

Marion: Total rubbish! We fight like cats and dogs, Les he’s not telling you the truth. I don’t want to sound like I’m tugging the forelock or anything like that nor do I want to sound like I’m the biggest cow that came down the pike but I have a way of working that, in my mind, has nothing to do with any kind of personality. It’s like working with somebody like a machine and it’s not good.

I mean, I’m the least political person and every time I try to be political, I just dig a hole for myself, because it’s so transparent that I’m being a hypocrite.

And as a consequence, as Laurie says, we do have some absolute magic moments, when suddenly something will happen and it’s just great.

The other day we were just talking about songs, and we thought of “You Came A Long Way From St Louis” and all of a sudden Laurie played some chords that seemed right out of left field.

I said: “That’s wonderful!” and he said: “Yeah I like that.” So he did this arrangement for me I think it’s a gas! The orchestras that have played it have liked it too; we did it with the LSO, and the musicians were coming up afterwards and saying: “That was great!” But it’s so simple. Laurie writes beautifully simply which I think is a talent beyond compare. He can get as complicated as anybody, but he has, in my view, the sensitivity and sense enough to realise that complexity for complexity’s sake is a load of baloney.

Laurie: Yes, that’s out now. That was the British disease, wasn’t it, at one time? Cram in as much as you can.

Marion: It’s just a matter of getting a line and following it through.

Laurie: In a way, the American music that’s around now like George Benson and things like that has influenced us to write simpler. They’ll repeat a phrase, or they’ll stay on simple chords whereas we got a bit . . . introvert.

Well, self-consciously hip or with-it.

Marion: I think a lot of that goes back to the hymns in this country, because it’s not been all that long that we haven’t been considered a Christian country. For instance, compare the American and British tunes to “Oh, Little Town Of Bethlehem” the British version puts even weight on every note. As a consequence, people were brought up with the classic tradition each syllable having a notation and it did become the British disease. It became self-indulgently clever.

Laurie: Well, I remember, when I was with bands like Stapleton or Ronnie Rand, if there was a gap in what the front-line was playing, I’d put something in on piano. Now, I just leave it blank, and when I’m playing solo things I find that what you leave out is as important as what you put in.

Marion: Absolutely.

I feel that way about singers also. Without mentioning names, there are certain singers who just go too far with the technicalities, and it becomes sort of painful, really, to hear all that going on. You want to tell ‘em to cool down.

Marion: Yeah this is one reason I love Elkie Brooks: the economy of her singing is really admirable. I saw part of a concert she did recently, and I was just mesmerised by it; I think she’s wonderful. And, see, Madeline Bell has the same thing, I think.

I think you have it too.

Marion: Well, I have always wanted simplicity. If I had to name two favourite singers in the world, I guess they would be Doris Day, for her control and purity, and Dinah Washington, who to me was a downright honest singer. That’s what I would like to be an honest singer.

Laurie sometimes jumps on my back because he says I play with time too much— lots of times that’s because I’ve gotten myself into a bind and can’t get out of it.

Other times it is: “Oh, I can do this”; so I have to be a little bit careful about that.

But to get back to the marriage and the music: as Laurie said, it can be equally fine or terrible, because when we do disagree, it can be radical. See, it’s a marriage on two levels, and both of them are dreadfully emotional. One is the obvious emotional level, as between a man and a woman; the other is getting into such an ego level that it is dangerous.

It gets competitive, does it?

Marion: Well I don’t like competitive.

Laurie: It’s difficult to work in the study and disagree about something quite strongly, and maybe have an argument about it, and then say: “Okay, that’s the end of that. Let’s have tea.” You can’t just cut off.

Marion: The only way I know out of that is to talk about it, and the only way he knows out of it is to be quiet. As a consequence, I find myself rabbiting to a wall, and he finds himself constantly having to say: “Give me a break.” So that is the hard part, I would think, in almost anybody’s artistic marriage unless they are on such a wavelength that they just tune in. And you’ve seen some of those, but not very many. I remember at one point talking to another couple who are in the business, and the wife saying to me: “Sometimes I wish I would be with somebody else, because I could honesty feel like I might be turning them on to what I was doing musically. But we know each other so well, that I don’t feel there are any surprises.” There was no musical sparking-off between them.

Laurie: But that’s not the case with us.

Marion: No. I was going to say: the marvellous thing about Laurie is that he . so inventive. Pm not all that original, i! ut he is inventive. All of a sudden, he’ll play a chord, and then Pm a good engineer, and I can put it together and then that’ll spark me off on something, that he in turn will do something else with. And that’s the way we build. We’ve got that going for us he always surprises me. It took a long time to get here, though, didn’t it—to where we are now, in this work thing.

Laurie: Yes, we’re better than we used to be..

But you’ve found that the opportunity to work with Marion, simply as an artist, has inspired you as a musician?

Laurie: Well, she’s wonderful to work with. It’s the way she gets an audience it comes across as completely sincere, whatever she’s doing. In a way, it doesn’t matter so much what she’s singing or how she’s singing it, but the sincerity she has just captivates an audience.

Marion: Musically, though I think that’s what Les is talking about as far as an audience is concerned, I generally like ‘em. And I get very distressed if I’m uptight, and I walk out and I feel that I’m putting a barrier up between them.

Laurie: I’ll tell you what surprised me recently: you singing, “Bye Bye BIackbird” at Ronnie Scott’s and getting the audience to join in! Like Butlin’s Holiday Camp on a Saturday night!

Marion: That happened quite by chance one night; I was down there singing “Bye Bye Blackbird” and some people started to sing along and all of a sudden the whole audience was singing. And Pete King came and stood by the stand and said: “I don’t believe it!” So I just thought, well, I’d keep it in. You know, just because they’re a jazz audience it doesn’t mean they don’t want to get in on the act as well. So keep it in. But people said you couldn’t do country’n’western stuff at Ronnie’s and I did.

Laurie: Well, audience participation is a good thing. Marion said to them: “Now you can go home and say you’ve sung at Ronnie Scott’s!”

It’s akin to a married couple there’s a sharing that goes on. You share things with an audience, as you do with your marital partner.

Marion: I feel totally safe with Laurie on the floor and I’m a terrible goof-off. I get into what I’m doing, without worrying about, the words and I use wrong words, I change verses around, and stuff like that. One night at Ronnie’s I was thinking about what I was feeling, instead of what I was actually singing, and I added two bars to “God Bless The Child”; Ron Mathewson, the bass player, was almost thrown thank God he’s the musician he is . . .

Laurie: She got me another night she sang the verse to a song, and went into a different chorus! It keeps me on my toes, anyway.

Marion: Yes, I did. But I really feel . . . I know this sounds like an odd word to use . . . desperately safe with Laurie there.

And the reason I use the word is because sometimes you can feel so desperately unsafe. So then you start marching through sand and try to do the best you can with what you’ve got. Cy Coleman once upon a time said to me, as did several other people: “You’re in trouble, because you’re going to always have to work with the best. That’s where you’re going to be happy and you’re in trouble.”

That’s it — you can’t accept anything less.

Marion: I have a very hard time with it I mean, I can do it, but there’s that undercore in me of Southern violence and rage at having to settle for less, that probably came from losing the war between the States! And I really get angry about it I’m making myself sound absolutely awful, but I have very limited patience in a situation like that.

Well, without a good rhythm section you’re doing less than you’re capable of, because you don’t have that uplift, that power behind you.

Marion: No, you can’t do it and how can you explain that to somebody? You cannot get up and be a parlour singer; you cannot do something unless it’s right.

Laurie: Talking of power behind you I remember working a club in Charing Cross Road called The 142; it was the music publishers’ club, and it was upstairs, with a grotty bar. I did it with a local bass and drums, who were fine players. And one night in came Ray Brown and Ed Thigpen, and we had a drink in our break. Then I said: “We’d better go back on”; so I went on, started playing something and suddenly there was a magic feeling . . . Ray Brown had come up, and then Ed Thigpen came up . . . then I realised what Oscar was doing he was sort of floating on top of this solid foundation; it made it so much easier.

Marion: Well, you see, that’s what Laurie does for me. But when you ask for something, you don’t endear yourself to musicians. In the early days, when I first came to this country, and Laurie was just flat out in the studio all the time, I wanted to rehearse, keep my chops up and this and that; so I said: “Listen, I know you’re so busy give me a list of piano players that you think are good, so that I can call up somebody.” A number of the people I called up said: “Why don’t you work with your old man?” Then when I’d go out to work with another piano player, I’d turn around and say: “When I do this there, can you play a chord that . . .?” “I’m not your husband” you know.

So people say: “Why did you lose your confidence?” For a lot of reasons. I was spoilt rotten; I was used to musicians loving me. I was used to musicians who don’t like working with singers wanting to work with me, because they felt that I was relatively musical, and they knew how much I revered them. What I didn’t recognise, because I guess I was too naive, was that it wasn’t me they were, in a sense, jealous of they were jealous of Laurie’s talent.

Laurie: But you’ve done well for piano players. You’ve got Richard Rodney Bennett . . .

Marion: Oh, honey I couldn’t be more covered, really.

That’s been a whole thing in itself, with Richard, of course.

Marlon: Right. You see, Laurie was on the road for a long time with Engelbert.

So I was working with a guy named Brian Miller, who I adore and love, and who is a bloody great piano player. Brian’s background was not in standards, though; he was more the sort of pop/rock thing and I was doing a lot of that at the time. Brian and I would still be together, I think, if I could have afforded him, but he got with Cats. He was wonderful took over, in charge, funny, easy to be with, great on the road, and looked after me. While Laurie was gone, I had that help, as well as Jeff Clyne, Trevor Tomkins, Alan Jackson. Also Phil Lee’s been with me a long time a wonderful, lyrical guitarist. But along the line there wasn’t that much work, although I was working with the BBC and stuff like that. You know you’ve got to do it. It’s like anything if you don’t practise it, you go downhill. I mean, you can speak fluent French, and if you don’t speak it for ten years you’re in trouble when you try again.

Laurie: The thing we didn’t do, though, was what Cleo and John did. I’m not sure, but I think they are booked as Cleo and John whereas Marion is booked as Marion Montgomery, and if I’m not doing anything else, then I’ll go and work with Marion.

Marion: Yes we made a mistake with that.

Laurie: But a lot of people expect me to be there anyway.

Marion: And I think that’s going to have to change in the future because Laurie is so well-known within the industry, etc. that it’s a little bit bizarre for me to feel that we’re not on a par publicity-wise is what I’m talking about.

You’ve been on these concerts, like the Stephane Grappelli Eightieth Birthday, where you’ve both been featured, separately and together.

Marion: We do a lot of that. We did the thing with Ray Charles, and the thing with Dizzy Gillespie. And when we do the Barbican with John he’s so sweet to ask us to do this Pops thing, which is a knockout he turns the orchestra over to Laurie. Well, I think he should get credit for that, you know.

Laurie: It doesn’t bother me in the least.

Marion: I know it doesn’t bother you but it bothers me!

So what have been the actual benefits of your association with Richard Rodney Bennett?

Marion: Well, because it was just two voices and piano and because Richard, like Laurie, as that old adage says, will read a fly on the paper he also has a musical shorthand. So he would say to me: “Scat-sing this thing” and I would never scat anything before; I just didn’t think that was my bag at all. But I would do it, and he would jot it down, almost as I was singing it and then he would teach it back to me, so that we could incorporate it in what we did. And by doing that, and the fact that he liked the way I sang, and because we would work a thing over and over, I got back into a real rehearsal mentality. Whereas before it was just: “Oh, do it—it doesn’t mean anything.” I became interested again. As you know, if that confidence goes, it can be hard to get it back I think the way you do is by little things that happen along the line. The ladder is very, very slender. And now I don’t think I’m the greatest singer in the world, and I don’t think I’ve got all the confidence that I : would like to have, but I’m fifty thousand times better than I was. I get tired, though. Laurie has a source of energy somehow that’s quite amazing to me it’s just somewhere there-but I run out.

I have seen him get tired and go on I mean exhausted tired. I’ve seen him come offstage with the shakes from fatigue, which scares me to death but he’s held together up there. Unfortunately, I get onstage, and all of a sudden the bottom just drops out.

Laurie: The opposite happens to me. Sometimes I don’t want to be involved in the event whatsoever; I’d rather not be there. But when I go on, something happens I get stuck in, and give it one. Which is lovely. It means I don’t have to get hyped up before I go on. A lot of artists need to do that they need to psyche themselves into a mental situation where they’re up and running. I just go on, and after about three or four bars I’m into it.

Marion: And totally you know, like lock-in time. I think it’s wonderful—I envy that, actually.

Laurie: It’s the magic of music, isn’t it?

 Copyright © 1988, Les Tomkins. All Rights Reserved