OmegaMom

A few years after I moved away from the Bay Area to join Not-Yet-Mr.-OmegaMom, we traveled back there to visit some relatives.  I took him in to the city to do the usual touron things.  As we were walking through downtown San Francisco, we encountered a quartet singing opera, a violinist, and some people playing folk music.

It reminded me of one of the things I absolutely loved about living in/near a city:  the nonchalant expectation that one would run across buskers almost every day during one’s normal, everyday routine.  Climbing out of the BART station, I was greeted by the sounds of the saxophone; walking down the streets, I would hear a trio of guitarists who I could see if I peered down the sidestreet; there would be multiple groups of musicians jamming in the various parks.  It wasn’t a bonus of being in San Francisco–the same delightful musical free-for-all existed in Chicago, as well.

I miss it.  Oh, we have music here in Small Mountain University Town, but it’s not the same.  The type of musical encounter one has in the city is serendipitous–there’s no schedule to it, no need to put it into one’s calendar and remember it.

My mom remembers an instance, during a visit to Vienna, when she climbed out of a subway station into the midst of a large group of people singing the Carmina Burana.

The Washington Post, prompted by–curiosity?–ennui?–sheer deviltry?–enlisted the famed violinist Joshua Bell in a busking experiment, seeking to determine if “beauty can transcend”.  Bell was assigned a DC Metro station to settle in and play his violin during the morning rush hour.  Hidden cameras took video; reporters cornered commuters outside the station to take names and contact info for a “commuter study”.  Bell made $32 in the 45 minutes he was playing; tickets to Bell’s performances on stage regularly command $100 and up.

The Post claims that most of the commuters didn’t even look, yet when I watch the videos, it seems to me that a majority of people actually glanced over at Bell.

In Chicago and San Francisco, when I encountered these serendipitous musical moments, I was often in transit–on my way to work (and usually about to be late), on my way to a date with friends, or on my way home and just dog-tired.  I preferred my buskers lurking on station platforms during the evening rush hour, rather than the upper levels or the connecting passageways or by the exit doors; though the music was constantly interrupted by trains arriving and departing, I could enjoy it in a more relaxed manner without a constant underlying nagging feeling that I Should Be Somewhere Else!

A few of the commuters knew that they were listening to an excellent violinist; one of them knew who he was.  But the majority hustled on by, some flinging some money into his violin case in passing.

Perhaps if the Post had positioned him elsewhere…perhaps if it had been the evening crowd, rather than the morning crowd…there would have been a different response.  I’d like to think that I’d recognize the quality of the instrument and the playing if I had been there–but, even so, the pressure of modern life, of needing to “be there on time”, would have intruded and had an impact on my response.

But, no matter what the response was in reality, the tale makes me wistful for those days of serendipitous music providing a sound track for my city life.

(FYI:  “Brainwashing my child” is featured at the Carnival of Family Life at Lil’ Duck Duck, along with many other fun and touching blog posts.  Wander on over and check them out!)

Technorati: Joshua Bell, busking, music, city life