below the radar - columbia universityyankee fans. ridley sings “i will survive,” “billie...

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Below the Radar: NOTES FROM THE SUBWAY PERFORMANCE SCENE

BY NAOMI PERSON

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BELOW THE RADAR :

NOTES FROM THE SUBWAY PERFORMANCE SCENE

2/3 train, 96th Street station, Wednesday, 10:45 a.m.

The scratchy speakers announce, “There’sa Number 2 downtown train at 125th Street.” A subway worker in an orange vest

scrapes a spatula against the side of a black metal bucket and re-grouts a crack

at the platform’s edge. Music spills out of cheap headphones, readers flip news-

paper pages, high heels click over concrete. People talk with one another, and to

themselves.

A train enters the station, and the ear pans from right to left. Wheels squeak.

Air brakes hiss. Ding-dong: The doors open. Another train arrives with a synco-

pated ca-thunk, ca-thunk on the rails. Whatever mechanism has been holding

those doors together releases; body weights transfer from one foot to another. The

doors close, shuddering a few times before finally resting. It’s not even rush hour.

As you walk through the subway station the soundscape shifts. You’re mov-ing toward a faint melody. There, on the concourse where you get the N train,is a small woman dressed in a wool cap and plaid vest bowing the song“Evergreen” on a toothless saw. You can’t pretend this isn’t happening.

You are the audience, not because you bought a ticket, but because you’re

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headed to work or dropping off your kids or buying towels. Whatever becomesof this moment, it’s between you and the Saw Lady. You get to decide if andhow you want to engage: Is your heart open? Your wallet? Is this too much totake in before your second cup of coffee?

In New York’s subterranean performance universe, the almighty cry of pro-fessional criticism is drowned out by the Seventh Avenue Express and theCanarsie Local. There is no reviewer to whisper in your ear, “Last season theSaw Lady’s rendition of “Lara’s Theme” from “Dr. Zhivago” was much crisper.She needs to hunker down and sharpen her skills.”

Music and dance and riding the subway are all about vibrations. You canfeel in your body if performers are faking it or if they’re for real. Strangers onthe subway platform listening to a cellist play Saint-Saens’ “The Swan” allturn their bodies toward the music the way seagulls angle their beaks into thewind.

L T R A I N A T T H E 1 4 T H S T R E E T S T A T I O N , S A T U R D A Y , 2 : 1 0 P . M .

" I W A T C H P E O P L E A N D T H E I R M O T I O N S , H O W T H E Y R E A C T T O O N E A N O T H E R , W H A T G O E S O N B E T W E E N T H E M -

A N D I U S E T H A T I N M Y M U S I C . "

J E S S E D U L M A N , T U B A S O L O I S T

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The Number 1 train runs right beneath Lincoln Center, Broadway and thedowntown clubs. Subway stations on this line form a parallel entertainmentworld, but the gatekeepers of culture gainfully employed in buildings all overNew York City don’t hold much sway down here. This is an economy that’s trulyunderground. No advance sales or seat assignments are available, the artists andtheir audience share the same stage, and CDs are sold out of suitcases.

Subway entertainers range from the amateur singer-songwriter to the con-servatory-trained clarinetist, but they all get equal billing. Performers, especiallythose who play professionally, say working in a subway station frees them toboth build their chops and mess up without fear of having their good name sul-lied “on the record.” The Saw Lady, Natalia Paruz, has played her strangeinstrument with the New York Philharmonic, but she says she plays better in thesubway because she’s less nervous. Julio “Clown” Santiago, a break dancer whohas performed professionally in France, joins his old crew when he visits home.

“On stage, they want everything to be perfect,” says Santiago after severalsets at the Times Square station, where he has entertained crowds by undu-lating his 300-pound frame. “Dancing here is raw. That’s where creativitycomes from.”

Subway audiences like surprises. There are those who appreciate anyattempt at artistry underground, but most New Yorkers want more. A transitcop who tells an off-key blues-singing banjo player to move on is perhaps mak-ing more of an aesthetic judgment than a legal one.

“I don’t expect music to be less professional here,” says a woman namedRosamund, who commutes from Brooklyn to her job as a market researcher inlower Manhattan. She regularly passes a violinist named John at ChambersStreet who seems to favor what may be the composition most frequently per-formed in the subways, “Ave Maria.”

“He seems to do well, but I haven’t felt moved,” Rosamund says. “Healways plays the same thing. I intuit he’s there for the money.”

A musician or dancer might turn to the turnstile for any number of rea-sons depending on their creative and financial needs. There is money to be

made; lots of money. And like beautiful waitresses at Chasen’s, some subwaymusicians hope they’ll get discovered.

Several years ago, film director Jonathan Demme found out about theband Mecca Bodega, who were playing at the time in Grand Central. Thoughthey already had a small club following, they got a boost when Demme hiredthem to score the HBO movie appropriately titled “Subway Stories.”Performers underground can find audiences who might not otherwise hearthem. Musicians who have recently immigrated can express themselves andpursue a livelihood without having mastered English.

No entertainment fare is more varied or affordable. With a swipe of yoursubway MetroCard, you can watch hip-hop dancers from the Bronx; you canlisten to a tuba, a two-stringed Chinese erhu, African drums, steel drums, or ajazz duo from Moldova playing “Autumn Leaves” on a clarinet and an old ham-mered dulcimer called a cimbalom. “This may be the wildest culturaljuxtaposition I’ve ever seen,” said Raymond Brahn of Manhattan of theMoldovan musicians.

The roster of subway artists includes approximately 115 who have audi-tioned and been accepted into the Metropolitan Transit Authority’s “MusicUnder New York” program. This means they can hoist MUNY’s orange-and-black banner and play in one of 25 or so prime locations: Graybar Passage atGrand Central Terminal, Roosevelt Avenue/Jackson Heights in Queens, orCourt Street/Borough Hall in Brooklyn. Hundreds of other performers, unde-terred by their lack of official status, park their milk-crate stools, open theirguitar cases and do just fine.

New York City’s transit system has 468 subway stations. Almost five mil-lion people pass through those stations daily. Dozens of subway entertainersare working at any given time, so there’s practically a zillion chances forencounters between people performing and people passing by.

“To think if we’d used another exit, we’d have missed these dancers,” saidAnne Michaux, a tourist from California. “But there are more dancers at theother end of the station who are better!”

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THE GENUINE ART ICLE

Concourse between 2/3 and N/R trains, Times Square station, Thursday, 7:15 p.m.

“I was at the pay phone, so at first, it didn’t hit me,” says Sandra Jones ofManhattan. “Then I saw people standing, so I came over. She was doing thatGladys Knight song, “Neither One of Us.” And she hit a note! I heard the vibra-to in her voice and I knew—she’s got spirit and energy and charisma like crazy.”

“She” is Alice Tan Ridley, a rhythm and blues singer who travels with arolling suitcase, a Walkman (for accompaniment), an amplifier, a microphone,tapes for sale and a folding stool.

When Ridley introduces “Proud Mary,” she stands up, acknowledgesTina’s version and then rips into her own. After the first chorus of “Rollin’. . .rollin’,” she breaks for a young man who’s standing against a white tile col-umn; she leans back and shimmies next to him with her eyes closed. At leasta hundred people are watching, howling and encouraging her. One womansays she’s been missing her train home for two hours.

During the many sets she will perform that evening, Ridley gets the crowdto sing backup. She encourages Japanese and French tourists to dance withYankee fans. Ridley sings “I Will Survive,” “Billie Jean,” “Tired of Being Alone,”“My Girl,” “Under The Boardwalk” and “My Heart Will Go On.”

When Ridley sits, mops her brow with a blue handkerchief and sings, “My heartwill go on and on,” you believe her, and you hope you’d be able to muster the samecourage. And when she demands, “Give it to me, re- re- re- respect,” you do.

VOICES CARRY

Near the 1/9 station at 116th Street, Wednesday, 10:15 a.m.

“The subway has the best acoustics of anyplace ever when you’re talkingabout live performance,” says Anthony Mills, a 28-year-old Manhattan School

A L I C E T A N R I D L E Y B E L T S I T O U T O N T H E C O N C O U R S E A T 3 4 T H S T R E E T A N D S I X T H A V E N U E .

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P E N N S T A T I O N , M O N D A Y , 4 : 5 0 P . M .

" L O T S O F P E O P L E S A Y W E ' R E L I K E T H E J A C K S O N S ! W E D O N ' T L I K E W H E N T H E Y

R E L A T E U S T O O T H E R B A N D S L I K E T H E J A C K S O N 5 . O U R B E L I E F S A R E D I F F E R E N T

A N D W E ' R E C L O S E T O G E T H E R . W E L I V E I N A D I F F E R E N T S O C I E T Y , W I T H O T H E R

M I S S I O N A R Y K I D S . W E D I D N ' T G R O W U P I N T H E ' H O O D . T H E J A C K S O N 5 , T H E Y

W E R E S T R I C T L Y B U S I N E S S . W H E N T H E Y S P L I T U P , T H E Y B E C A M E E N E M I E S . "

J A N I N A C A G L E O F F A M I L Y C H R I S T I A N P O P B A N D T H E C A G L E S

( S U S A N , 2 1 , G U I T A R ; J A N I N A , 1 7 , G U I T A R ; J E S S E , 1 5 , G U I T A R

A N D D R U M S ; C A R O L I N E , 1 3 , G U I T A R ; I V A N , 1 1 , P E R C U S S I O N )

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of Music–trained singer who sings backup for Harry Belafonte and writes andperforms his own music.

“The body is a natural sounding board. . . the hard palate, the cranium,the breastplate,” he explains. “The sound bounces through the body like waterin a shower. In the subway, it’s, like, double what you naturally already have.If you know how to project your voice, it’s perfect for you. I’ll hum somethingwalking through a station until I find the exact right spot, and then I’ll staythere, ’cause that’s the echo chamber.”

Mills says that if he were teaching, he’d require his students to perform inthe subways. “It’s the only real audience, ’cause they don’t have to pay atten-tion. But if they feel you, there’s no denying it. It has to be the most vulnerableplace to perform. It’s kind of like being naked in front of them.”

Recalling one of his student forays underground, Mills says, “One day wewere singing Christmas carols, like ‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen,’ and wetook ’em out completely! And all we wanted to do was make enough money sowe could go eat Ethiopian food.”

“I’ve been procrastinating about going back down there,” he confesses.“I’m scared. Because I’m serious about music. I’ll have to sing like it’s the lastdamn time!”

SHOW ME THE MONEY

Tunnel between the 2/3 and L trains, 14th Street station, Saturday, 1:15 p.m.

Zack White sings and plays guitar. You can’t miss him; one half of hishead is shaved and the other isn’t. He smiles directly at you as you walkpast. His repertoire includes the Beatles, the Stones, Motown, Elvis andJohn Denver.

He comes here from White Plains four days a week, putting in about fivehours a day and pulling in five to ten dollars an hour, much of which goestoward financing his commute. “You’ve got to keep your faith and expect noth-

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( L E F T ) J E S S E S K O K U S ( G U I T A R ) A N D M E A G A N P E T E R S ( C E L L O ) , F R O M B R O O K L Y N , P L A Y I N G

O R I G I N A L C O M P O S I T I O N S A T T H E 1 4 T H S T R E E T L S T A T I O N I N M A N H A T T A N . ( R I G H T ) N A T A L I A

P A R U Z , “ T H E S A W L A D Y . ” “ M Y S A W H A S B E E N M O D I F I E D . I H A D T O T A K E T H E T E E T H O F F

B E C A U S E T H E P O L I C E S A I D I T W A S A W E A P O N . ”

T R U M P E T E R E D F E N N E L L P L A Y I N G S O L O A T P E N N S T A T I O N .

( L E F T ) S H A M G O D F R O M T H E B R E E Z E T E A M D A N C E R S E N T E R T A I N M E N T G R O U P P E R F O R M S O N

T H E C O N C O U R S E N E A R T H E N / R T R A I N , T I M E S S Q U A R E S T A T I O N .

( R I G H T ) 1 4 T H S T R E E T T U N N E L B E T W E E N T H E 2 / 3 T R A I N A N D T H E L T R A I N .

T H E F L O W C O M M I T T E E P E R F O R M S A T P E N N S T A T I O N ,

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A2O can make $200 in a couple of good rush hours; Watson pulls out awad to verify this claim. “It’s a legal way to make fast money. The most moneyI ever got was a hundred dollar bill, from Damon Wayans.”

“I feel excited dancing here,” he adds. “That’s my talent, and I’m not shy.Soon, I’m gonna dance by myself so I don’t have to worry about anyone else.But when I get older, I want to get a job. I want to be a fireman.”

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ing.” he says. “One day you may make $100, but you can’t think that’ll happenthe next day, too. It’s like going fishing.”

One man, carrying a copy of the New York Post, approaches White andsays he’s putting together a symphony ensemble to record. He likes White’smusic and asks for his card. “People do that all the time,” White says. “Theyintroduce themselves as producers, but they’re not what they say they are.”

For White, this work allows him to avoid the hustle of an 8 to 5 job. Andhe gets his feedback directly from the customer. One guy tells him he soundsjust like Ritchie Valens. A woman gives him a Christmas card saying his musichas inspired her to pursue her life in a more positive way.

“The music reaches one’s spirit,” White says, grinning. “I know it’s thedevil’s music. But it triggers something in the realm of the self that is search-ing. People think they’re lacking something in their lives; they’re not, but theythink they are.”

COURT THE POWER

42nd Street Shuttle, Times Square station, Thursday, 8:30 p.m.

“Before we perform, we say, ‘We’ve got three simple rules,’” explains 15-year-old break dancer Eric Watson. “‘If you like what you hear, clap. If youdon’t like what you hear, still clap! We’ve got a manager named Phil-lup. Philup the bucket!’ And we say silly stuff like, ‘Don’t be cheap—dig deep.’”

Watson’s Bronx-based Alpha 2 Omega group has just ceded the stage to itsBrooklyn-based colleague, Breeze Team, citing a code of professional courtesy:“We know them, and they’re older.”

Watson, who is made to do his homework before he goes out to perform,is a second-generation dancer. “My dad, Big Eric, was a big dancer out on thestreet, before he got locked up. He performed at the Apollo and did commer-cials, and he took me on the road to Boston when I was 8.”

below the radar - columbia universityyankee fans. ridley sings “i will survive,” “billie...

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