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p8
 Most people who know Simon
Carrington would probably describe him as a relaxed, easy going person who can often be
seen with a pint of beer and an unfinished crossword. His sport is cricket, the slow game
born in the English countryside. Simon's working life, however, is rather different. It
involves intense concentration broken by periods of strenuous, often loud, activity
together with ninety other people. He is the principal timpanist and percussionist of the
London Symphony Orchestra.
Aged 33, he now lives in Bouverie Road and has been in Stoke Newington since 1992. He grew
up in Hampshire in a musical family his parents and two sisters play instruments. He took
up the violin at 6 years of age, and only two years later was playing in an orchestra. The
drums came next and he played jazz at school and in a pub in Winchester. The Hampshire
County Youth Orchestra took him to Alaska, Seattle and New England in 1982 and 1985.
He won a place at the Royal College of Music and met the Queen Mother in her role as
President of the College when she was visiting to award prizes to the top students. Simon
had won first prize for 'aural ability.' The Queen Mum shook his hand and said something
to him. 'Sorry, pardon?' he replied, missing what she'd said. Speaking much louder in her
royal tones, she repeated, 'I suppose if you've won the prize for aural ability, you must
have excellent hearing.' 'Er, yes,' the young musician responded.
He graduated from the RCM in 1988, after winning the Shell/LSO competition for orchestral
players, and joined the LSO in 1991. In the intervening three years he played timpani with
most other symphony orchestras in London.
The principal conductor of the LSO is Sir Colin Davis, for whom Simon has considerable
respect. Another favourite is Bernard Haitink who, he says, is not only a nice man and
good conductor but also the anagram of his name is 'a drink in the bar.' Not all
conductors receive musicians' approval and Simon is scathing about those who domineer and
who can 'trash people's careers through psychological attrition.' Sir Georg Solti was
notorious for picking on musicians. And although Solti described himself as a 'benevolent
dictator,' Simon says that benevolence was rarely in evidence.
The LSO conductors this year include Pierre Boulez, Andre Previn, Ricardo Chailly and
Lorin Maazel. Financial pressures dictate that the orchestra must undertake commercial
work and the LSO has recorded the music for the films Star Wars, The Return of the Jeddi,
Phantom Menace, Shadowlands and Braveheart. It was also appropriate that they should have
performed the score for Titanic as the LSO was booked on the ship in 1912. They cancelled
at the last moment.
Simon has also had the privilege of hearing himself play in a Japanese lift. The LSO had
recorded westernised Japanese music for a Tokyo company and he says the elevator music
didn't sound too bad, probably because he'd 'had a few beers.'
He says the pressure of playing with highly talented musicians who rely on you to perform
perfectly is very real. There are also internal politics and hierarchical structures
within orchestras that represent a microcosm of British life. It's important to relax.
Do classical orchestras get groupies of the sort that follow rock musicians? 'Only in
Florida,' he says and relates a tale about when he was wearing a white tuxedo after a
concert in a heavy bikers' bar in Daytona Beach. A young woman made it only too clear what
she would like to do to certain parts of his anatomy. He changes the subject quickly.
Simon is highly critical of government under-funding of the arts, especially music, and
says it not only affects performers but also the general level of public appreciation,
which is lower in Britain than in other European countries. He rejects the idea that
classical music is just for snobs and connoisseurs and says that it is wrong that music
should be excluded from the curriculum in schools.
His future? Simon is rather vague but optimistic most musicians, bearing in mind their
precarious profession, usually are but talks about eventually moving out to the country.
Meanwhile, he's happy living around here.
Speak Out!
by Johno Gray
 Our regular 'Speak Out!' feature provides a platform for those who
are angry, unhappy, fed-up or merely critical of something that exists or has happened in
Stoke Newington. The views expressed are purely personal and do not reflect those of the
magazine. Our readers can make up their own minds. For those who may feel aggrieved and
who are mentioned in any article, we guarantee the right of reply.
I've been told by a social anthropologist that a new breed of homo sapiens has come to
reside in Stoke Newington. Set apart from the rest of the crowd, they are defined by their
eagle eyes (useful for counting the number of dog turds in the area), acute hearing (they
can sense a bass beat from at least half a mile away) and their highly evolved vocal
chords, which they use to pursue their favourite pastime, namely; whingeing.
Yes, the whingers; a breed who feel the need to complain endlessly about anything which
they feel needs changing or which does not appeal to their delicate sense of living. In
short, pretty much everything.
To a whinger who is eating or drinking out, the service is either too familiar/too
impersonal, too slow/too 'McDonalds', the wine too cheap/overpriced . The streets are too
dirty but the cleaners too loud, the 73 is 'a vital and much loved service'(too crowded,
dirty, smelly) but God help the world and let's please stop everything if there's more
than a five-minute wait! The pubs are great but too busy and noisy and as for the price of
a coffee, well!
One can almost hear the conversation regarding a choice of house by early rising,
noise-sensitive whingers: 'let's find a busy pub with a beer garden next door, the noise
will be so terrible we can live unhappily ever after, content in our moaning bliss, no
more quiet weekend nights in for us anymore!'
So, I suggest that, in conjunction with N16 magazine, the normal, happy people of Stokey
should organise a dream vacation for all you whingers out there. You will be transported
to anywhere (doesn't matter where, you'll hate it anyway) where you can all get together
and moan. This way you'll be miles away from our tattered senses and, while you are
finding things to complain about and partaking in 'who's the unhappiest' competitions, the
rest of us can get on with enjoying life, parks and beer gardens without the drone of
Stokey whingers.
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