Street performing, or busking, is a profession that dates back to antiquity. Before recording technology and personal electronics, it was a principal form of income for many performance artists. Still, even today in the digital age, street performers can be found playing for gratuities all over the world — with one caveat: It is illegal or frowned upon in many cities.
While some performers might enjoy the illegality of performing in public spaces like subway stations and plazas, many more are disheartened by recent crackdowns on busking.
"I just want to share my music with people and make enough money for food," Stanley Livingston, a folk musician from New York City, said. "I've been living in this city for 30 years, and it's only recently that cops have been shutting me down when I play in Union Square or something."
Livingston has run into trouble with the police and the New York City Transit Authority (NYCTA) as an unlicensed street performer several times.
In response to the tenuous relationship between performers and prosecutors, many cities across the globe have institutionalized street performance by creating unions or similar organizations for performers. The London Underground, for one, requires that subway musician-hopefuls audition before a panel of judges. If selected, they are assigned a specific location and time during which they are allowed to perform.
"I think it's working out great," Richard Swelter, a self-described troubadour balloonist based in London, said. "There's no more cutthroat competition among musicians for the choicest spots; that's always been a problem in the past. I've gotten some nasty remarks from other performers who say I'm encroaching on their pitch. It's a lot better now."
This guild of street performers provides Londoners with over 100,000 hours of live entertainment every year during their commute. In return, the performers have a unique audience which continually cycles throughout the day, totaling over 3.5 million Tube passengers every single day.
Locally, joining one of these union-like groups is quite easy. In Cambridge, Mass., anyone can walk into the Cambridge Arts Council (CAC) and pay $40 for an official street performing ordinance if their definition of performance is in accordance with the CAC's.
But $40 can be a hefty fee for many struggling artists in the area, Boston-based street musician Caravaggio Rossi said.
"Sometimes you can work for a whole day, moving around to different spots, and only pull in $30," he said.
At Tufts, some students enjoy busking for the fun of it and, without giving it a second thought, simply forego the costly license. For senior Drew Walker, a member of student percussion group B.E.A.T.S, the appeal of street performance is the lack of regimen and rules associated with more organized performances.
"We haven't done it yet this year, but usually we go to Fenway [Park] once a year, take all of our buckets and just start jamming. If anyone wants to join in, they can," he said. "It's all for fun. Just plop down on the corner somewhere and jam out. There's no right or wrong."
According to Walker, impromptu outdoor and underground performances like theirs give a city the opportunity to get to know its own artists.
"I haven't lived in too many cities, but seeing people play in the subway is pretty cool and shows a side of the region you might not see otherwise."
Senior Henry Felsman, another Tufts musician who uses the outdoors as his practice room, explained that for many artists living in tight quarters or next to irritable neighbors, outside is the only available venue.
"We play on the street because when we play at home the neighbors complain," he said. "And there's the benefit of other people walking by. I like that I get to watch random passersby probably even more than the random passersby like to watch us."
But whether or not they decide to invest in a license, buskers in the United States often have a harder time getting by than their European counterparts, Rossi said.
"I have some friends in Spain, for instance, who can actually squeak by on just what they make from street performing. I think there's just a better appreciation of artists in Europe. They protect their poets."
The word busking has its roots in the Spanish word "buscar," meaning "to seek." And, indeed, Rossi pointed out, Spain's street culture of an evening stroll offers a large audience to hopeful performers, not to mention the added benefit of the 2€ coin — easier to toss into a hat than paper bills.
Still, some European street musicians, like guitarist Naythan Puyol, are of the opinion that European police departments have of late developed much more negative attitudes and stricter punishments toward street performers.
"I used to do very well in Spain," he said. "But, recently the police have been cracking down. I heard of someone getting a 42-euro fine for [busking], and the police confiscated his guitar!"
No matter what the letter of the law, he said, on the streets it comes down to the whims of police officers when deciding how to persecute performers; relationships between the police and buskers vary from city to city and country to country.
"It's at the discretion of the officer whether or not to make someone pack up and leave," NYCTA employee Shauna Davis said. "I just try and make a good judgment call. If I think the performer is more panhandling than busking, I'll tell them to move along."
So for those intrepid performers willing to take on the risk of punishment, what can they do to make it as a successful busker? Puyol said that he always tries to smile and dress smartly.
"In a lot of places, there is still the view that street performers are poor, even desperate, beggars. It's important to give yourself a professional, groomed image. I usually wear button-down shirts and smile at people as they pass by. Just try to make a good impression like you're at a job interview," he said.
Indeed, busking can be a steady source of income for traveling minstrels.
"I've made 140 euros in an hour," Bat Olzi, a traveling musician from Mongolia who performers regularly in the London Underground, said. "I came here for a tour and didn't have any money in my pocket. Busking has really saved me. It's all about making a connection with people that pass by. That's what is going to get them to give you some money, not the actual song you're playing."
Most importantly, New York street magician Carl DelCanto said, street performers need to remember that they are in show business, just like any screen or stage performer, and must please their audience as such.
"It's a business of entertainment, and you've got to stand out from the crowd," he said.
To set himself apart, DelCanto usually sports an eclectic suit ensemble reminiscent of Willy Wonka, complete with a gold-sequined vest and purple felt blazer. The costume, he said, succeeds in drawing attention, though not always from the right observers.
"I think I attract more attention from the Transit Authority, too. This suit, while unmistakably glorious, can be a double-edged sword."
Romy Oltuski contributed reporting to this article.
