Music in the Streets

On any given afternoon in Toronto, one can walk through the UofT neighbourhood and hear the music of an interesting kind. Often on the intersections of Harbord and St. George or Bloor and St. George is a man with an autoharp playing his own brand of music. His sound is large, echoing and brilliant. It rings out through the streets in a dreamy fashion that manages to penetrate your thoughts. While the timbre and harmonic qualities often remind me of the Christmas season, his music can be heard all throughout the year. He plays with a easy smile on his face as passer-byers respond with similar enjoyment. His music has a distinct quality to it that reminds me of Toronto. Perhaps it's the friendly environment, the politeness, or the general sense of comradery often found within our city streets.
These qualities make up the best part of our city. If anyone ever attempts to cycle or rollerblade through our city they may understand a little bit more about what I am writing about. Cyclist all know the dangers involved in our streets, often overcrowded with cars and pedestrians. Yet we still negotiate through it all, aware of the eminent fear of potential injury or even death. One result of this fear is the friendly comradery that you will find between two cyclist when paused at an intersection. It seems strange, but I found it absolutely true. Often portrayed in a simple nod or gesture, both cyclist are aware of the risks we take and the need for cautious observation. The gesture implies the acknowledgment of each others existence, something that motorist often forget. It's as if to say, I'll look after you if you do the same for me. This spirit lives deep within the core of our city, and can be found in the strangest of places.
I find this acknowledgment from our musicians and street performers as well. I often move around from place to place with a guitar strapped to my back. The guitar becomes a kind of badge that symbolizes my efforts as a musician amidst the thousands of others. When passing by other musicians with similar badges, I often get a smile and a nod, another way of saying good luck and god speed. You can compare the struggle of establishing one self as a musician in this highly competitive scene to the struggle a cyclist endures to stay alive while traveling through the streets, either way, the people you run into during your travels will likely offer a kind and reassuring acknowledgment. Something that I think characterizes this city. For whatever reason we seem to want to look out for one another. And if there is some common ground that becomes apparent in the process we take advantage of the opportunity.
Don't get me wrong, not everybody in the city is on our side. Mainly impatient motorist or cranky, stressed non-musicians turning up their ipods because the busker is drowning out their top forty pop hits. But it is apparent to me that these people don't get it. The city offers a closeness and intimacy found only when large populations co-exists in such close corners. If you really desire the peace and serenity found in silence and non-disturbance, perhaps a smaller city may suit your needs better. For the musician on St. George and Harbord playing his autoharp, the spirit within our city allows him to exist. His music often acts as a pick-me-up when feeling overwhelmed with the stresses of school and its inevitable deadlines. All he asks for in return is a friendly smile and a nod.