I was walking through Town Hall in Sydney just now, and on my way through the turnstiles I noticed there was a rather large crowd that had formed just away from the commotion of the daily commuters. I then heard, over the din and noise, some violins screaming at a blistering pace. I kept walking, as Rose and I have our antenatal classes on tonight and I wanted to get home to ensure we got there on time…but I stopped as I was walking past and then stopped. The playing was just amazing, and so I stopped and listened for a bit.
Some amazing buskers smashing it out in Town Hall at the moment. Incredible. twitter.com/stevehopkins/s…
— Steve Hopkins (@stevehopkins) April 2, 2013
I’d had a good day, but it was mainly spent in the rather monotonous surrounds of an office building. I’m lucky that I get to choose my work location; and I had chosen the venue today, but it’s funny just how much those environments can sap you of your mood and enthusiasm. Walking back through Town Hall, I was confronted by such enthusiasm and joy, I couldn’t help but be stopped in my tracks.
The artists where still school age, and were dressed in their uniforms like they’d just come from class. The cello player was sitting on his case and the two violin players were standing right next to him to hear his cue and play. The laughed as they played, and moved in amazing sync with each other. They found the rhythm instantly, and looked to each other for the beat and the feeling of the music when they missed it. The were inspired, and what struck me most was that they were inspiring each other in the process of making music. At one point they played Greensleeves, which is fairly standard. But about half way through, without so much as a nod to each other, they shifted gear and changed the tempo to move faster and play slightly behind the beat. They laughed as they did so, and so did I. I wanted to remember that feeling.