From the Washington Post:
Each passerby had a quick choice to make, one familiar to commuters in any urban area where the occasional street performer is part of the cityscape: Do you stop and listen? Do you hurry past with a blend of guilt and irritation, aware of your cupidity but annoyed by the unbidden demand on your time and your wallet? Do you throw in a buck, just to be polite? Does your decision change if he’s really bad? What if he’s really good? Do you have time for beauty? Shouldn’t you? What’s the moral mathematics of the moment?
On that Friday in January, those private questions would be answered in an unusually public way. No one knew it, but the fiddler standing against a bare wall outside the Metro in an indoor arcade at the top of the escalators was one of the finest classical musicians in the world, playing some of the most elegant music ever written on one of the most valuable violins ever made. His performance was arranged by The Washington Post as an experiment in context, perception and priorities—as well as an unblinking assessment of public taste: In a banal setting at an inconvenient time, would beauty transcend?
My husband sent me this article two days ago, and I loved it! I loved the serendipity and humor of it, and it reminded me of all those fairy tales in which a prince gets turned into a frog. Perhaps I would’ve walked by, but it still embodies my favorite thing about my adopted home, New York City. You just never know what you’re going to encounter when you walk out the door! I’ve overheard lots of funny snippets of conversation, and seen people in incongruous costumes (some purposeful, some not) and spotted some celebrities, but the musicians are my favorites. Sure, lots of them are not so skilled, but who cares? Some of them, probably Juilliard and MSM students looking for some extra rent money, are quite good. We once sat on a rock in Central Park listening to a probable Juilliard student for an hour. Often we pitch in a dollar or two, even if we have to catch the train and can’t stay to listen. I do it because I appreciate the dedication involved in being even pretty-good-but-not-professional. Plus, I like the way it brightens up a day.
I do know that my 12yo daughter would not have wanted to walk by. She’s a big fan of the musician in the article, has been to hear him play in real life, and being a violinist herself, she says you can’t watch that video for a few seconds and not realize that he’s not your typical subway musician. I have to believe that I would’ve stopped for the Bach Chaconne, at least. It’s one of my favorite pieces. Maybe not Esterellita, though.
I’ve also thought at times that, if I had unlimited funds, I might like to collect real Chinese ceramics. But then I think about what they’d look like in my cluttered apartment, among all the books and trappings of everyday life, and I chuckle. No, the lighting at the museum is much, much better, and it’s not that far away!
I wish I could’ve thought through this response better, but I like the fact that you thought this excerpt was worth posting. I really liked it, too.
I do it because I appreciate the dedication involved in being even pretty-good-but-not-professional. Plus, I like the way it brightens up a day.
Laura,
I think that pretty-good-but-not-professional is an important quality that has been driven out of life by the commercialization (and later, the globalization) of entertainment. Someone once pointed out that in times past every town had a best singer, best racounteur, handsomest man, prettiest girl, and so on. Now we don’t even think in such categories, because the bar has been set so high by what is available from commercial vendors, what is available locally doesn’t even reach the threshold of notice. Why listen to a small-town violinist when you can pop a Joshua Bell CD into the player? And how can a small-town violinist compete when Joshua Bell is the standard?
And the rare exception is not an exception at all, since he or she quickly leaves home for the star-making centers. The latest prettiest girl in Russell Springs, a tiny town fifteen miles away, became the most recent Miss USA and she definitely (and quite publicly) left her country background behind.
Over the past year it’s become pretty clear to us that Chris and I just don’t have time to pursue music at a professional level, nor could we justify it if we did have the time. Playing at small local festivals is fun, but it takes way more that it is worth to us in the way of travel, preparation, repertoire, skill development etc. What we need is a much less demanding venue, one where we could play occasionally, for free or tips, for people who would appreciate it just as much because it is local and immediate and live and informal music as because it was decent quality music. It would brighten everyone’s day, I think.
My pastor once said in a sermon, about the need to find our purpose in God and not make an idol out of work, “You may have been the best musician in your hometown, but then you come to New York City, and the guy on the subway plays better than you. It can be devastating.” And did you happen to read the series in the NYTimes last week about the Chinese fascination with, and skill for, Western classical music? It *is* global competition!
But to me, that’s assuming that we need to be the best, and who can be? For one thing, it’s a more-than-full-time job! Like you said, we just need *some* kind of audience who enjoys that we’re doing. Same for friendships, I think.
I hope you find your venue. I remember that there used to be a restaurant in Athens, GA where people fiddled. That was fun.
My wife’s family’s small country church often has children in the church playing the prelude, offertory, or special music in the morning service.
Issues of worship or entertainment aside, it is perhaps the only example of encouraging “local” musical talent I have witnessed.
I remember reading an article several years ago (by Peter Leithart, I think) about a friend of the author’s who was learning to play the violin, and occasionally played for company. He wasn’t very good at it, but the author’s comment was that there are some things that are worth learning to do, even if you’ll never be very good at it.
That was a good lesson for me. My mom is a naturally gifted and highly trained musician, having planned to be a concert pianist but marrying instead, and I always felt intimidated by her proficiency and didn’t practice like I should have – “I’ll never be as good as she is, so why bother?” was my sorry attitude. I’ve since learned a dose of humility and been able to bless others with my admittedly meager ability to play the piano for Evening Prayers (at the base chapel a few years ago) and to teach hymns to my family. We’ll never be even a shadow of the Trapp Family Singers, but we’re a heck of a lot better than if we’d never bothered, and it has brought a lot of beauty and pleasure into our homelife.