A man sat at a metro station in Washington, DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle-aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule. A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till without stopping.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work. The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tugged him along, hurrying, but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pulled hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head back all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only six people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written on a violin worth 3.5 million dollars. Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston, where the seats averaged $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by The Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context? One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

[onstageinnc.com]

Very nice story!! I remember listening to the Subway
Musicians when I was traveling to Brooklyn, NY years ago. We only
have to turn within to answer the question "How many other things
are we missing?"......WY

A 'busker's perspective on street and subway performance:

Subway musicians have to have a hefty amount of self-confidence and the right motivation to do it regularly as a part- or full-time 'gig.' I have a alot of busker friends (and I'm one myself), and those that are happiest and usually make the most money are good musicians who have an attitude that they're practicing their craft and also performing a sort of loving service when they play for the public on the street or in the subway. I know some people who make enough to pay the rent and avoid a 'day job;' others do it in their spare time and have 'real' jobs.

I love gigging in the subway! I remember the first time I heard a musician in the 1980s in Harvard Station; it was a solo violinist, unaccompanied and unamplified. Nevertheless, it was gorgeous: Harvard Station has beautiful acoustics that give a wonderful concert hall effect. So I only had to hear one musician playing in the subway that one day as my train rolled into the station, and I was HOOKED: I decided then and there that I was going to start playing in the subway, and I did.

I love the fact that when we play for people in the subway or street, we reach a complete cross-section of humanity: we're offering music for free, in a sense, to everybody from every walk of life, and people can choose to pay something or not. (And most of us sell CDs, so they can also pay a little more and take a CD home with them.) I love the totally egalitarian nature of it. And often you get pleasantly surprised: it's not always the wealthy who give the most money; it's more often the working class and lower middle class who are the most generous, in my experience.

Street performance is a really big movement here in the Boston area: we have a Street Artists' Guild (of which I used to be the Secretary and later the Media Outreach Coordinator) of several hundred members, and Cambridge and Boston are the 'mecca' of street performance in the U.S., and perhaps the whole world, our group having fought many legal battles for our First Amendment rights to play in public. In Cambridge the city hires 'Street Performance Monitors' to oversee the street music scene from May through the end of November-- I've been a monitor for 4 years now and it's fun.

Sharrhan:


[www.facebook.com]

will never forget the feeling
when one street performer played the guitar

will never forget how all of a sudden the stuff i heard on the radio
was coming to life
so soulfully
when i was standing right in front of this person
and each note was held
each vibration was felt
and i felt like time stood still
will NEVER forget how it sounded
how there was pausing and spacing in between the notes
not a trillion zillion piece orchestral
but just a man and ONE instrument

a guitar

no m icrophone
no electronics

no fancy schmnacy stage

just the music
pure
simple
and powerful

I love street music!!! We just get random people in our little town, but I've seen some pretty cool stuff in S.F. I have to get over to Boston/Cambridge one of these days just to listen to the incredible talent there (Kwan!) because of their rep. My little girl and I always stop and listen, and if I don't have money to throw in, I go get some because music is that important!!

Sundancer,
Ahhhhh, if all our listeners were like you, "What a Wonderful World" it would be! :-))))

Sharrhan:


[www.facebook.com]

That's a beautiful story, cy. It reminds me of many things (especially the last paragraph), much more than just the things that can be measured with wealth.

Thank you very much. :-)

Regards,
Yixiang

That is awesome. What a classic statement !

I often find myself drawn like a moth to a bright light when I hear a good street performer. I will stand around or even sit if it is good enough, and have people walk by on all sides. It fascinates me how everyone is so blase in the presense of such a remarkable sound, and I have always attributed it to underappreciation due to prejudice of context. This story certainly validates that notion.

Kwan, I reckon your lifestyle sounds amazing . One day I will get around to learning an instrument or two. I am attracted to the violin and piano, but also the drums for their primal calling.

cy, Thanks for that. It's something to think about. But I understand people being busy and needing to get where they're going.

I wonder if a lot of the same people would stop and appreciate in different circumstances.

kwan, I've heard before that it's often less wealthy people who donate and tip more. What experiences you must have out there.

Kit

<<kwan, I've heard before that it's often less wealthy people who donate and tip more. What experiences you must have out there.>>

i believe this is true
strange but true

Yeah, I make like 20 grand a year but will always tip a street musician.

The tips I've treasured the most over the years are the notes, poems, spontaneous artwork, and little gifts people (usually young people, but not always) put in my basket. (Girls have taken off bracelets and given them to me.) I keep them in a little wooden box. And last year this beautiful soul who is a professor at Harvard (so in this case it was not a poor person) was so glad to see me back on the street again playing my music that he went off to the florists and came back with a huge bouquet of exotic flowers for me, plus a generous tip. Really, it's the most wonderful job, and I meet some of the sweetest people on the planet, because they invariably are the ones who are so attracted to street music and street performers, and will make it a point to stop briefly and smile, share some nice thoughts or even bare their soul to you.

Back in the '80s I felt like I had a ministry to the local alcoholics sometimes. The homeless street people know and like me, and back then there were often 2-3 homeless alcoholics who would sit or even lie on the ground near me while I was playing my meditation music. They sensed something of the healing consciousness behind the music and craved it, I think.

My most prized memory is of a young man back in the '90s who I noticed was walking back and forth in front of me slowly as I played for quite a few minutes. When I took a break he came over to talk to me, and he said "Thank you! When I get within a few ft. of the sound of your music, the voices in my head stop torturing me and I don't hear them anymore. If I walk out of range they start up again." That just blew me away. Another fellow told me he had heard the same music when he was in a diabetic coma for 3 months in the hospital. Sometimes it's the non-monetary gifts that matter the most when you're a street performer.

Sharrhan:


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Wow, Kwan -- that's amazing!

Just part of my wacky widdle world. ;-p

Sharrhan:


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