Performing for pennies: the life of a busker

  • 2007-08-22
  • By Talis Saule Archdeacon

FIREDANCER: Dmitrijs Pudovs makes his living by spinning, spitting,and swallowing fire, both on the street and at special parties.

RIGA- Riga's Old Town is full ofmusic these days. On manya street corner a musician,complete with requisite hat orguitar case full of small change,can be heard playing away, whileperformers showing off uniqueacts tend to congregate on themain tourist stretch leading up tothe Freedom Monument.It is impossible to tell exactlyhow many street performers 'salso known as buskers 's there arein Riga. While the idea of institutinga register for buskers hasbeen a topic of conversation inthe City Council in the past fewyears, officials ultimately decidednot to institute any registry orpermit system.

In many cities in WesternEurope, buskers take to thestreets just so that people canhear their music or see their art.They harbor dreams of fame andfortune and see busking as a pathto stardom, taking their cuesfrom the numerous world famousperformers that started out bybusking 's Eric Clapton, BobDylan and Robbie Williams, toname a few.

In Latvia it's mostoften a different story however.Here buskers, in need of scrapingenough together to earn a meagerliving, often have no option but toperform on the streets.The Baltic Times spoke withfour of these performers to findout what life is like for a buskeron the streets of Riga.

The painter
Andrej is a 39 year-old artistfrom Estonia. He paints eeriescenes from far away planets thatfeature towering rock formationsand bright moons. His paintingsrely heavily on the contrastbetween neon-bright objects ondark, swirling backgrounds.Heavy use of a paint scraperallows him to produce the sharplines that seem to make themoons rise out of the painting.His performances often drawlarge crowds. People huddlearound to see him produce thefantastic images that he can sellfor anywhere from 15 to 200 lats.

Andrej is at peace when hepaints. While it is impossible totell what he is thinking under themask he wears as he works, assoon as he takes a break hiscountenance is filled with serenity.He wears a black artist'ssmock that makes him lookalmost like a monk.The painter said that buskingwas his destiny. "We all have ourpath in life, our calling, thingsthat we are drawn toward. Weare where we are, these thingsjust sort of happen."While Andrej has never had abad experience performing onthe streets, he prefers the atmospherein Latvia to WesternEurope. He complained that peoplein the West have no spirituality,and that they always checktheir account book before buyinga painting.Andrej makes enough moneyto live simply, and has the luxuryof only going out on the street toperform when he feels like it. Hesaid that he could make fourtimes as much money as he doesnow if he decided to work fulltime, but he prefers to only paintat dusk when the weather is nice.

Laura
Many of the buskers inLatvia are not so lucky. Laura isan old Russian woman who sitson the outskirts of the mainsquares in the Old Town andplays her accordion. She is missingher front row of teeth andlooks as if she has not been ableto afford a new instrument for 50years."It is very difficult as a pensioner.The way the state works, Iam not technically a citizen andso the system makes it very hardto live. I am only doing thisbecause I need the money," Laurasaid.She noted that while 95 percentof the time people justignore her or drop a few santimsin her jar, sometimes drunks giveher problems.

The most difficult thing aboutthe job, however, is actually goingout onto the street. "I need threeor four cups of coffee and five orsix cigarettes to work up thecourage to go out and play everymorning," Laura said.Despite the difficulties, Lauradoes sometimes enjoy playing onthe street. "When I play, I amhappy," she said, explaining that"it is a way of communicatingwith the street, a way of complimentingthe street."

Fire Spirit
Dmitrijs Pudovs is a highlyprofessional busker, completewith a business card and anappointment book. He primarilyperforms at special parties, mostlyfor businesses, but he alsotakes to the streets where he spitsflames and twirls fire sticks todraw huge crowds."I play a lot of big partiesbecause they pay well, but I playin the street for my soul," he said.Pudovs learned a bit of jugglingin the circus, but hasacquired most of his skills simplypracticing on the street withhis accomplice, who plays thebongo while Pudovs dances.

Hesaid that people always react differentlyto his shows, sometimescheering wildly for simple tricksand sometimes standing passivelyafter his best moves.He explained that the worstaudience is often the richest, thepeople from large firms. "At theparties, sometimes the peoplefrom big firms are very cold, theycannot relax and enjoy the show.They look at their boss beforethey will do anything," he said.Playing at special partiesallows him to continue his craft,mostly indoors, throughout thewinter and still make enoughmoney to live comfortably.

The cello kid
She is one of the best streetmusicians in Riga, and she is stillin high school. The teenage girl,who asked not to be named, playsintricate classical music thatseems to breathe life into the surroundingbuildings.She said that almost everyoneis nice to her and that some peopleeven "give me flowers andpropose to marry me."She plays on the street to helpsupport her family. She explainedthat her mother had said that sheneeded to go out and try to find away to make some money to helpthe family make ends meet.Busking is the only way that shecan help.The more that she plays onthe street, the easier it gets. "Inthe beginning I was not happyabout it, but now it's getting better.It always better when I havefriends there to listen to me andsupport me," she said.