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It was late on a Saturday night, and I was having a beer with two other buskers in Syracuse, Sicily. It had been a strange weekend, part of a strange week, and we were commiserating on the difficulties and challenges of performing in Sicily. A Hungarian singer, who I’d seen do a mean Dylan, mentioned that Innsbruck was one of the best cities he’d ever worked, and it was that advice which brought me there fifteen months later.
After the ambiguity of busking in Salzburg it was a real thrill to walk through town, on my way from the train station to my hostel, and see a violinist, a clown, an accordionist, and two living statues. That was definitely a good sign. Better still was to come two days later when a police van pulled up in front of me and the officers, while I nervously continued my performance, walked right past me. They walked by again ten minutes later on the way back to the van, never saying a word to me.
The busking went very well, but was only part of the joys of Innsbruck. A woman, whose name I later learned was Suzanna, gave me a flyer and free ticket for a storytelling performance series that week. “You speak some German, right?” she asked, and I lied through my teeth when I said “yes”. That night I went to the show, and it was fascinating. The storyteller, Karen (performing under the name of “Frau Wolle”) was such a brilliant artist that the cadences of her voice and the nature of her performance that I didn’t need the language to be enthralled. Better still, the performance was being sign language interpreted, and the signers were also extremely evocative. Between them I got a pretty good gist of what was being told.
There’s an improvisation game called “yes, and” which is built on the premise of never saying no during a performance but building on whatever is already happening. Marrus likes to make an analogy to life, that taking this attitude brings amazing things into one’s life. I said yes when I took the ticket and when I went to the show, and then went further by talking to Karen afterwards.
She invited me to the next night’s performance, which was a joint affair of stories and musical numbers by “Dr Idoo”, a digeridoo player who accompanied himself on harmonium and guitar. He and I chatted briefly before the show, and casually mentioned, as musicians are wont to do, that jamming would be a lot of fun. I performed one of my new pieces, with which I’m particularly pleased, after intermission and then was called up again at the end of the show for the promised jamming.
It was amazing. We listened to each other, responded to each other, and played off of each other’s ideas. It was a fantastic experience; he is a brilliant musician and we just clicked. After we’d ended the song we were called on by the audience for an encore, which was a new experience for me. And it went just as well, while being completely different. I had a blast.
I had already been planning to return to Innsbruck next year, but that performance clinched it. I’m talking to Karen about performing with her again, and I’m hoping that comes to fruition. One of my favorite Europe stories yet!
Between Dr. Idoo (whose given name I’m blanking on) and Pete the Clown I also got a lot of tips on other good busking areas in the vicinity. I’m encouraged that when I told them my next stop was Bolzano, Italy (which was also recommended by my Hungarian friend), they were both very affirming. I loved Austria and I’m eager to go back, but my heart belongs to Italy!
After the ambiguity of busking in Salzburg it was a real thrill to walk through town, on my way from the train station to my hostel, and see a violinist, a clown, an accordionist, and two living statues. That was definitely a good sign. Better still was to come two days later when a police van pulled up in front of me and the officers, while I nervously continued my performance, walked right past me. They walked by again ten minutes later on the way back to the van, never saying a word to me.
The busking went very well, but was only part of the joys of Innsbruck. A woman, whose name I later learned was Suzanna, gave me a flyer and free ticket for a storytelling performance series that week. “You speak some German, right?” she asked, and I lied through my teeth when I said “yes”. That night I went to the show, and it was fascinating. The storyteller, Karen (performing under the name of “Frau Wolle”) was such a brilliant artist that the cadences of her voice and the nature of her performance that I didn’t need the language to be enthralled. Better still, the performance was being sign language interpreted, and the signers were also extremely evocative. Between them I got a pretty good gist of what was being told.
There’s an improvisation game called “yes, and” which is built on the premise of never saying no during a performance but building on whatever is already happening. Marrus likes to make an analogy to life, that taking this attitude brings amazing things into one’s life. I said yes when I took the ticket and when I went to the show, and then went further by talking to Karen afterwards.
She invited me to the next night’s performance, which was a joint affair of stories and musical numbers by “Dr Idoo”, a digeridoo player who accompanied himself on harmonium and guitar. He and I chatted briefly before the show, and casually mentioned, as musicians are wont to do, that jamming would be a lot of fun. I performed one of my new pieces, with which I’m particularly pleased, after intermission and then was called up again at the end of the show for the promised jamming.
It was amazing. We listened to each other, responded to each other, and played off of each other’s ideas. It was a fantastic experience; he is a brilliant musician and we just clicked. After we’d ended the song we were called on by the audience for an encore, which was a new experience for me. And it went just as well, while being completely different. I had a blast.
I had already been planning to return to Innsbruck next year, but that performance clinched it. I’m talking to Karen about performing with her again, and I’m hoping that comes to fruition. One of my favorite Europe stories yet!
Between Dr. Idoo (whose given name I’m blanking on) and Pete the Clown I also got a lot of tips on other good busking areas in the vicinity. I’m encouraged that when I told them my next stop was Bolzano, Italy (which was also recommended by my Hungarian friend), they were both very affirming. I loved Austria and I’m eager to go back, but my heart belongs to Italy!
