Saturday 7 February 2015

My Journey into Busking. Part 1.


Picking up my guitar case, backpack, extra water and loose change, I was getting nervous. “What am I doing?” I thought to myself. “You’re a family man, a father… you don’t go BUSKING!”

I shook my head realising how stupid things would be either way. If I chickened out now all my preparation would be for nothing. If I went through with this hair-brained idea then they would actually certify me crazy.

I grabbed the keys, drove to the bus stop and caught a bus into town. It was a bit tricky carrying all my gear and protecting my precious guitar. I squished through the crowded bus and found a seat. I struck up a conversation with the lady I was sitting next to. I find this happens a lot when I get a bit nervous. I start talking with people, initiating conversations. They talk back and then before I know it we’re sharing stories and laughs. Town arrived quickly.

I got off the bus and proceeded to the Adelaide Council Office to obtain my busking permit. I paid the $2.70, showed them my ID and tried to relax in the cool office. It was a scorching hot day, and I wondered why, of all days, I chose such a ridiculously hot day to do this.  I drank a cup of the free iced water they had available. They handed me the permit and suddenly the reality hit me. The penny dropped and I realised, “There’s no turning back now”.


I headed to Rundle Mall, THE place for busking. When I got there I was horrified at how the recent renovations had left it a concrete jungle. They had pulled out all the lovely trees and garden areas. It was awful. I did notice they had planted other trees, but they were just saplings. It might be okay in a few years but right now, the place didn’t look inviting for a would be busker.

I decided that maybe the best place for me to play would be near one of my favourite bookstores (The Pauline Bookstore) which is situated along one of the city’s garden squares just out from the mall.  There was hardly any people there but amazingly I saw a friend having lunch. “Awesome”. We talked a while and my nerves eased a bit. She encouraged me with my crazy ambition so I placed down the guitar case, set things up and then….. strum… strum…  YEAH… this guitar works… and works well… strum.

I was grateful that I was only singing to a lady sitting on the hill and few people sitting having lunch behind me. I wasn’t ready to have people actually look at me yet. I was encouraged when a guy came over a bit closer and sat there listening. It was surreal.  I was actually singing in public and filling the air with music. Strangely, (well actually not strange at all) when I stopped playing, the place returned to its ambient atmosphere of motor cars buzzing and footsteps plodding and it felt like something was missing. “Oh yeah” I thought. “There is something missing. Me. The sound of a busker is missing. Buskers really do create atmosphere and bring a place to life.”

I finished the set (my list of songs), had a drink break then went to Rundle Mall. I was a lot more confident now. I found a little miniscule place of shade under one of the sapling trees. I placed my guitar case down, opened my word sheets and started playing.

Being a performer in a public place is a weird thing. You become something, or someone different. You are not a pedestrian anymore. You are someone to look at… or ignore. It’s an unusual psychological place to be as it places you outside of your own world and into the world on the street. You observe people and see things differently. At the same time you are offering yourself and your art.



I really enjoyed playing my set, and noticed people behind me just listening, and not moving away. Some people would look and turn and listen for a while and move on. I amused myself with the thought that if anyone was crazy enough to actually stand and watch me in that heat they should probably be a busker too. But a few people did listen and that was a real encouragement.

A lot of people have asked “how much money did you make?” But is this the right question to ask a busker. I can only answer this from my perspective so it might not be the case for all buskers but people paying (not giving) money is a REALLY important issue for buskers.  I will talk about this in a future blog. However, receiving money is not the only reason why people busk. (Well it’s not why I busk, and I speculate that I’m not alone in my motivations. I will talk about this too in another blog). If you ask the question “how much money you make?” you are potentially thwarting the motivation to creative expression if the level of success is dependent on money. You don’t want artists losing heart if they aren't bringing in the cash.

I learnt a lot from my first busking experience and there are many topics I will explore in future blogs as my journey into busking continues. I will talk about the people I see and meet, and how busking makes you notice the vibe or attitude of people. The mood of the city. How buskers look out for each other. I know that this is the beginning of the journey for me. I hope you will join me for future blogs and share the journey with me.
Bri.   



Brian Maunder is the author-illustrator of the 
children's picture book Polly's Little Kite.


Websitebrianmaunder.com

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