Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning.
A man with a violin plays six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approximately two thousand people passed  through the station, most of them on their way to work.
After 3 minutes a middle-aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule. Â
4 minutes later:
The violinist received his first dollar: A woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.Â
6 minutes:
A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again. Â
10 minutes:
A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.
45 minutes:
The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave  money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a  total of $32.
1 hour:
He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.
No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest  musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever  written, with a violin valued at $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold out a theatre in Boston where the price of seats averaged $100.
This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and  people’s priorities.
The questions raised: in a commonplace  environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?
One possible conclusion reached from this experiment?
If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made… what else are we missing?
The psychological angle
Humans tend to practice an advanced form of mental deletion. We do this to protect our fragile minds from the sensory overload that the rich experience of waking life offers us.
Simply put, there is just way to much to pay attention to. We have to delete a huge portion of the experience available to us, in order to focus on the task at hand.
Completing such tasks are often necessary for our survival. But…
There is a grand irony concerning the folks at the train station, rushing to work to make a the next buck.
Beyond food and shelter, we work for money that is then exchanged for “experience” – tropical holidays, entertaining diversions and the occasional concert.
Sometimes it’s worth pausing in our journey, if only to enjoy the accidental rewards we encounter along the way.
What do you think? (Reply with a comment below)
Was holidaying in Santa Monica and came across another violinist. This time he was in a mall and had a bit of a crowd.
He was different.
My family stopped and watched, and yes he was a quality musician and had travelled the world including playing the Sydney Opera House. He gave us a marathon performance, and even though I have no idea of music I could tell that this was impressive.
The guy is https://www.joshvietti.com/ ‘pop violinist’ and all he earnt out of me was a $15 CD purchase (and some word of mouth.)
As a passerby I stopped. It seems like Josh Vietti is a better marketer than Joshua Bell. But he could be even better than that. Gary North warns that in a coming depression even good musicians will work for food.
Time for people to learn sales skill, marketing, and how to be an entrepreneur eh Peter?
Hey Martin,
You’re spot on. Could be a good niche for a clever consultant to get into: Coaching classical musicians on how to make their businesses work.
The rock’n’roll/hiphop kids have it sorted with myspace etc… but, to be honest, I think many classical musicians don’t even realise they’re running their own businesses.
They’re entrepreneurs – whether they like it or not.
If I was Josh Viette, I’d collect an email address from everyone who bought a CD. Stay in touch and tell a story… then I’d be building an asset.
Thanks for the insightful comment Martin.
PS I think Joshua would have positioned himself to play during the 8-9am subway rush hour… just to make the point that much more obvious.
Hey Peter,
I’m not picking up that coaching gig, but being in Adelaide I have watched a whole lot of international buskers at the Fringe Festival.
They are marvelous marketers for the psychology of getting cash out of people on the spot (even though they all have a similar pitch), but NOT ONE seems to have any idea of direct marketing or even basic follow-up as you suggest.
Really, really sad.