Street Performance
Sunday, March 30th, 2008Every day after school he puts on a filthy black overcoat and leaves home with his old, battered violin and bent music stand. He travels by light rail to the same busy corner in the heart of the city. There he carefully unfolds his stand and places his tattered, level-two music book on it. Then he opens his case, takes out his violin, and begins playing the songs his fifth grade music teacher marked with stickers. He’s not very good; some say he is terrible. But he plays on anyway because it’s the only way he knows to earn some extra money.
I’ve often seen this green-haired boy on the 16th street mall and wondered what it was like to perform for in such an exposed manner, depending on the generosity of others. Who is this boy? Does he ever get nervous playing for strangers? Does he ever get harassed or teased? How does it feel to have people throw money into your case as they go on with their lives? Would it feel like begging, or more like he’s earned the cash that strangers toss his way?
Since I have played the violin 6 years, the violin boy really made me think. If he gets that much money for playing badly, perhaps I could get money for playing better. I knew that I simply must have that experience.
So the Saturday before Halloween I packed up my violin, a bunch of music, and a stand and traveled by car to the 16th street. I walked around for a while, searching for the perfect location. I noticed two other street performers, an old man playing the clarinet, and a comedian called “the Robot Man”
Finally I stopped at the corner of Champa and 16th, right across the street from the Sonic. As soon as I set down my case, I noticed a middle-aged man in a worn leather jacket turn the corner. His eyes focused on me as he walked over, stopped, and prepared to listen. Before I had even played a note, he put a dollar in my cup. I quickly set up my music stand and took out my sheet music. I tuned a little and then began to play my first song. When I finished, he politely applauded, as I transitioned into my next piece. I was flattered that he stayed and listened for about a half hour. Several people stopped briefly and then moved on without making any donations.
As I played I discovered that the most challenging thing was trying to stay focused on just playing the violin. The wind blew my music from the stand. Cars honked as they drove by, and people walking down the street laughed and talked loudly. The many distractions made it difficult to concentrate on playing well and staying on track.
My second tip was from a young, good-looking guy with professional camera equipment. He took pictures of me from all angles as I played on. It occurred to me that he might be from a magazine, so I tried my best to put on a good show. That, too, proved to be very distracting.
When he moved on, there was a lull in the foot traffic and the tips. I continued to concentrate on playing, but was the cold wind began to make my fingers numb. My attention drifted as I thought about what to play next.
The most interesting tipper was a foreign man dressed up like a cowboy. He walked up to me slapped his thigh and asked in a very thick accent, “Ye-haw! Can ya fiddle me some country?” I guess since he was in Colorado, he wanted the full western experience.
An hour later I counted the money in my cup. I was $ 5.17 dollars richer. I had earned close to minimum wage. My fingers were very cold and it felt like rain. I was really exhausted and felt like I had been playing for hours. When I finally laid my violin safely in its case a few more people walked up and asked me to play their requests. But I politely denied them. I was ready to be done.
Before my street performance, I planned to give my tips to the other performers since they do this for a living and I was doing it for the experience. But by the end I felt that I really did deserve that 5 bucks. I didn’t pretend to be someone other than who I am. There was no deceit involved in my performance. I didn’t appear much different than I normally do, and I didn’t beg. Nobody asked who I was or why I was there. So when I left my corner with my violin case in hand, I went over to the Wendy’s to treat myself to a warm meal and to warm my cold hands and reflect on my experience.
No one really knows where violin boy comes from or who he is. Next time I see him or any street performer I will definitely stop and listen a while. I will most definitely put some money in the cup or case, and I will have respect for the nature of their performance. These performers are not panhandlers. This is a job and all work is honorable. Perhaps they are talented, or maybe not, but just like violin boy, they have courage and nerve to play on against all obstacles.