When referring to buskers, people tend to consider them to be poor, failed, wacky, hopeless and helpless. But, how buskers see themselves?
In front of the Queens Arcade Shopping Centre, there is usually a man sitting against the crimson mailbox. He is in his 50s, with silken blond curls. He wears a blue checked shirt, left his white patterned coat on top of his case even it is blowy. What makes him remarkable is his way of wearing sunglasses-putting them on top of his head rather than on his nose, and, definitely, his guitar. He immerse in his music, playing without taking breath. That is Martin, a busker in the city centre.
Martin was born in Cardiff. He used to be seaman and learnt his instrumental craft in the traveling which toured countries around world. When his journey ended, he became a busker by chance rather than choice.
Most of the time, Martin plays the classical music. He believes it helps people change their mood. “People come and pass, they are all stressed. I try to calm them,” he winked, “and classical music works.” He doesn’t care much about people’s feedback. He is there playing pieces of music which come to his mind and waits for passersby‘s “thanks” when they dropping the coins.
Another brilliant guitar busker is Brian plays in the subway in front of the City Hall. Perhaps music warms people’s heart as well as their bodies, it is not that surprising when Brian appears in just a T-shirt in the windy underground passage. He used to be a waiter in a restaurant, but later gave up. For he heard his passion there, calling.
Chasing after a dream is never easy, but Brian perseveres. His rock-style songs are rakish, filling with gladness, hope, and ardour, all positive, cheerful and affirmative emotions. Taking the subway as his own stage, he appeared, a band following him behind. “I hope my songs remind people something delightful when they rush to office, shops, homes or elsewhere.”
In contrast, Ninjah appears negative. He concentrates on the seamy side of the world, killing, pillage, gaps between the poor and the rich and so on. He thinks people require more than they have offered, gain more than they have contributed. Somehow, he manifests weirdly, emphasizing that “I have to destroy before I create.” Ninjah imitates robots when dancing in front of the Capital Shopping Centre. He deems his performance can absorb people’s negative emotion, such as enmity, jealousness, obduracy, in return for positive energy.
Though they three seem quite different, they all believe that in return for the small change in people’s pockets, they are transforming humdrum daily life into something magical with their performance. They might influence passersby’s steps, countenances, moods and minds even they don’t halt. It appears to be the willing to “help” people, rather than the requirements of earning a living to encourage them to show up day by day, even in the severe weather. They consider themselves to be independent and conducive to the society. Therefore, to some extent, they’re successful. “I’ve been playing here for hundreds years,” Martin commented, “and I’ll continue enjoying the next century. Nothing else matters excepts the music.”
