Joshua Bell in the Subway

More than one pastor has mentioned the Washington Post experiment involving Joshua Bell. The world-famous violinist played in the D.C. metro during rush hour, with his violin case open in front of him. As described in the Washington Post:

In the three-quarters of an hour that Joshua Bell played, seven people stopped what they were doing to hang around and take in the performance, at least for a minute. Twenty-seven gave money, most of them on the run -- for a total of $32 and change. That leaves the 1,070 people who hurried by, oblivious, many only three feet away, few even turning to look.

Usually I've heard the incident discussed as evidence for the proposition that we've built up an immunity to truth and beauty. The Washington Post article is more nuanced than I'd expected -- it is definitely worth a read. The reality is that people going to or from their train at rush hour generally have somewhere to go at a particular time... and do not appreciate the implicit bid for their time, attention, and money of a performance they've not asked for. Of course they will do their best to ignore a busker if they possibly can. The interesting thing to me is that:

[T]he behavior of one demographic remained absolutely consistent. Every single time a child walked past, he or she tried to stop and watch. And every single time, a parent scooted the kid away.

This makes perfect sense. In our society, young children tend not to have much disposable income -- and they do not need to use what money they do have for the necessities of life, which are supplied by the parents or guardian. Children are not expected to pay for things themselves, whereas adults are very much aware of a social expectation that if you stop and enjoy a performance, you have a moral obligation to throwing in some money. Moreover, it is the parents/guardians, not the children, who are responsible for making sure things happen on time, for getting the schedule right. Of course, children would want to stop and listen. And of course, adults would want to scurry on, doing their best to pretend not to notice anything. (That's an important defense mechanism on the subway -- you remain alert for genuine dangers while feigning complete obliviousness to the weirdness all around you.)

I also suspect you might have a different result if you had someone playing pieces (even classical ones) that are very well-known. The opening chords of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony come to mind, for example. Mr. Bell had only a few seconds to capture his potential audience's attention. Those few seconds would probably be sufficient for an expert to recognize a master musician, and maybe even a superb instrument. Cf. Malcolm Gladwell, Blink (2005). But most of us would hear "violin music" and recognize it as vaguely "classical" - unless it was such a well-known classical work that it is instantly recognizable. We simply don't know enough to appreciate the very best classical music unless the context is right. Once you get us in a concert hall, we can often (to some degree) distinguish between different levels of skill and passion, but the framing definitely helps.

I think if you take away the busking context, you also end up with more people willing to stop and enjoy. For example, where you have a large number of people dancing to a well-known song in a public place, with no request for donations, people can relax and enjoy the surprise. See e.g., Sound of Music | Central Station Antwerp or Don't Stop Believing | Ohio State.

And you might have a very different experience if you did this in a food court, where people are already sitting down and expecting to stay a while -- rather than when they are on their way to work. Consider the flash mob performance of the Hallelujah Chorus, for instance. Of course, this is also an example of a non-busking performance of an instantly recognizable piece -- but the fact that people are already sitting down would give them more opportunity to assess the quality of the music they are hearing even if it were unfamiliar.

There's another thing to think about here. We're used to hearing background music in stores and restaurants, so we're used to tuning it out. It may influence our mood and perception of the place and its merchandise (surely that's what the retailers or restauranteurs hope and expect), but we learn not to pay close attention to it.