Blog of a NYC subway performer and musical saw player

She Probably Doesn’t Remember Me

The Saw Lady — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 21:35:50 +0000

Making my way to my busking spot in the subway, as I was climbing up the subway station’s stairs, an elderly gentleman who was going DOWN the stairs volunteered to reverse his steps and help me carry my busking gear up the stairs. He must have been at least 70 years old. He then said to me: “I hope both you and I will have a Happy Thanksgiving”.
I was a bit puzzled, because the day this happened was December 4th…We’ve already HAD thanksgiving this year!
But he continued: “For next year. This means we’ll make it through another year! You are the first one I’m wishing this to”, he said.
This cheerful gentleman started my day with a smile!

‘Changes’/Scott Munson for musical saw and piano

A very tall African American gentleman and his friend stopped to say ‘how are you’. “She probably doesn’t remember me”, the tall one said to his friend. “Last time I saw you it was at 59th street”, he said to me.
I recognized him – he used to be the sanitation man at the 59th street subway station!
He told me that he is retired now. I asked him if he still does music and how his band is doing. I also asked him if his son still plays keyboards and he said that his son programs keyboards now.
I asked him if his sister still plays music on glasses. He said that he hasn’t seen his sister in a while, so he doesn’t know.
I was really happy to see him – I’ve wondered what happened to him as he disappeared from the 59th street subway station scene. He used to be a fixture there.

Photographer: © Chuck Capriola

The homeless guy with a bad leg that I always see begging at the bank in Queens walked by. He told me that he is on his way to Queens. He lives in Brooklyn. He got a brand new cane which he jokingly said is also good for self defense. He told me that his son who has twin girls is living with his fiancé. They will get married next year. His two little granddaughters drive him crazy, but he loves them. His soon to be mother-in-law does drugs, and he doesn’t like that. He’s been to jail himself, but now he has two lawyers that keep him out of trouble.

Photographer: © Nicholas Loomis

A lady from Korea told me that she has seen the musical saw in Korea. The Korean word for ‘saw’ is ‘top’, she said.

Buskers’ Game

The Saw Lady — Sun, 22 Aug 2010 15:59:48 +0000

As a busker (street musician) I find this busking computer game amusing: it teaches buskers to avoid falling washing machines and chairs thrown at them by people living above their busking spot, who don’t enjoy the music:

Hosted by Daily Free Games

Bend

The Saw Lady — Tue, 17 Aug 2010 21:39:34 +0000

Subway buskers also perform above ground, in “legit” venues…:
I was interviewed for WNYC radio. Here is a piece they played – ‘Bend’ by Scott Munson for string quartet and musical saw (my playing).

I recently played this piece with the Manhattan Chamber Orchestra at Symphony Space and it got reviewed in the New York Times (last paragraph).

This piece is on my upcoming classical/contemporary music album, which I hope to have ready this winter.

Why I Play Music on the Street

The Saw Lady — Tue, 17 Aug 2010 20:19:44 +0000

Every now and then I come across poetry about busking – the art of performing on the street. Here is a poem by JIMMY ISAMBARD, who is an artist and musician living in London, UK:

Photographer: © Rachel S. Geylin

Why I Play Music on the Street/Jimmy Isambard

I’m a street musician, I come when I please
Open my box, take a breath then tickle the keys
And if the people who walk by like what I play
They listen, donate then go on their way.
Some drop a few coins or a five or a ten
Sweets, flowers, even a kiss now and then.

I play for the heck of it and I play for fun
I play for good vibes and civilization.
I play for keeps, I play for relief,
I play for company or a place to sleep.
I play for the moon and for lost friends
I play for the rivers and snows and the rains
I play for money and I play for love
I play for the Devil I play for God
God lays his hand upon my hands on the keys
And guides me through harmonious paths to peace
And the Devil slips a slippery snake up my ass
And listeners grow lusty and loose all sense of class.

Gather around folks, let me show you the light
Bring on the darkness, long live the night!

I’m just the musician, I can’t choose my crowd
So when I’m on good form, they both come on down
Yes, I play for God Almighty and the Devil too
And they dance like lovers on a romantic cruise
When the devil smiles with his big juicy red grin
I rock the boat and sweat like a fat whore on a swing
But when the light of truth shines upon my mortal soul
I sprout wings and strum as sweetly as any angel

I shouldn’t play for the devil, it does me no good
Gets me in trouble and into a rotten foul mood
But some hypocrites listen to such clean godly things
That the Devil inside me bursts out as I sing.

Gangsters with guns give me money to play
Policemans tell me to go away
I play for lots of neighbours who don’t like the noise
Rotten old bags who hate all young boys
I play for morons who are too drunk to dance
They fall on their face and crush my guitar.
The rich man takes a photo and leaves
The poor man empties his pockets and weeps

I play for the sick children, soon to die
And their parents with tender love in their eyes.
I play a native song for the immigrant
To welcome them to this distant land
As if to say ‘Your accepted old chum
Don’t miss your home, stay and have fun!’
I play for the guys trying to impress the chicks
They swagger and give me generous tips;
It seems to work on girls ev-er-y time,
So I do the same when I’m trying to impress mine!

I hustle and rinse, I dip and I slide
It’s my job is to keep our streets alive.

I play for the grannies who remember their youth,
I play for the children on a trip with their schools,
The goodies ignore me, some think its funny
But the smart kids give me their sweetie money.

I play for the toddlers in their push-chairs
Some stop crying, others burst into tears.
I play for the teenagers who look at me like
I was their naked granny on a one-wheeled bike.

They say change is inevitable and I play for change
So I’m getting richer and wiser as I keep playing the game.

I play for the extroverts who sing and dance
And the introverts who stand in a trance
I play for the happy ones who leap in the gutter
And also the sad ones who tremble and flutter

Like every note is a terrible monsterous wave
Driving their lost raft far far away
‘Pleeaase don’t capsize me!’ their silent eyes say
And generally I don’t… but not always!

I play for the newly married husband and wife
Who are sky-high and only too pleased to oblige
And when the guests are gay and aglow
I play notes that ring like bells of gold
I hear mystic vibrations in the air
Sounds of energy I forgot were there
And it feels like I’ve been playing since before I was born
And at the same time like I have never played before
I have been holding my horn forever to my lips
But the moment is as new as a first magic kiss.

I play for the free and for slaves,
For the sick in their beds and the dead in their graves.
For the bears, the monkeys and tigers too
I really did, it is ALL true
I play for food I play for drink
I played for absolutely nothing…
I played for nothing a hell of a lot,
But thanks to nothing I got as good as I got.

I play to de-spell the most evil blues
I play to find something, somehow new
I play to bring joy and because I’m mad
I play like a maestro and I play really bad
I rage with my music against the machine
I play and I scream ‘Come on man, break free!’
I play every note like it was a knife
Slicing away the cruelties of metropolitan life
Ripping apart the cold stranger’s gaze
Exploding joy into somebody’s dull day
I stand on my head and roll on the street
And caper and tumble and stamp with my feet
And late at night, I lie down with a smile,
Because the people I make happy make my life worthwhile.

And one sweet morning when this life is over
I’ll lie down on the earth with my tuba
My clarinet on my chest and my uke under my arm
To set off on the band tour of no return.
But if you kneel and listen very carefully you’ll hear
Me tooting and howling way down there.
And when any musician opens their soul on the street
I’ll be bopping downstairs and digging the beat.

Drawing Portraits on the Train

The Saw Lady — Mon, 16 Aug 2010 17:44:22 +0000

While busking at the Whitehall Ferry Terminal in Manhattan, a guy who works on the ferry-boat asked me if I’ve lost “one of those” – he said as he pointed at my musical saw. He said that he found a musical saw on the ferry boat, together with a bow in a brown case. He said that he turned it in to the ‘Lost & Found’.
A musical saw must be a rarity for people to forget on the ferry…

Photographer: Jose Polanco

when I was done busking I took the subway train back home. I set next to Orin – the guy who draws portraits of people on the train. He tells people that they can give him whatever they want for their portrait. He has a pad of white paper and a black marker. He did two portraits in the time I sat next to him.
He is originally from Jamaica but he has been in New York for 35 years. He never knows where the people he draws might get off the train. Sometimes he starts the day drawing 20 portraits of people who leave the train before he finishes their portrait. He does about four hours a day in the trains – that’s about 50 drawings on average.
He said that he has seen me play at the Union Square subway station and that next time he sees me playing he’ll do a drawing of me.

Homeless, Haikoo & the New York Times

SawLady — Thu, 12 Aug 2010 21:14:17 +0000

When I was busking at the 14th street subway station, Joe, the homeless man who has an artificial hook hand, sat on the bench for more than an hour. He told me that he could hear the sound of my musical saw from upstairs, so he knew that I was here.
He remembered that he owed me $2, even though it was at least a year ago that he asked me for that money. He gave it back to me, to my amazement.
He told me that he has a sister in Illinois. Also, his three kids are there with his x-wife. He owes $45,000 in child-support to her, but he hates her, so he keeps drifting. He loves his three kids, though. His daughter wants to be either a judge or a cop or a lawyer.
His middle son is good but his youngest son, Joe Jr., is in trouble. He drinks, like his father, but he also broke into cars and the judge said that if he doesn’t stay in school he’ll send him to jail.
Joe keeps traveling, searching for a place to stay which is not a shelter.
He found a magazine with an article about the production of his favorite movie – ‘The Wizard of Oz’. He also likes ‘Gilligan’s Island’. He told me that he saw the only surviving actress from this show on TV. She’s 80 years old now.
As usual, he asked me to play the ‘Star Trek’ theme for him. I also played ‘Over the Rainbow’ for him, because I know it’s his favorite.

A lady named Sophia sat on the bench for a while. She wrote something on a piece of paper, then put the paper in my donations box, saying: “I wrote a haikoo”. It says:

Subway Saw Lady
I stayed to listen today
Your smiles dried the rain.

She drew a little flower on the corner of the paper.

Photographer: © Laura Kidd

Non-subway related stuff:
My concert at Symphony Space last Thursday with the Manhattan Chamber Orchestra was really fun. I am very grateful to have had the chance to play with such wonderful musicians.
The New York Times classical music critic, Allan Kozinn, reviewed the concert.

This Saturday, August 7th, 2pm I will be playing with a 10 piece jazz band at the 8th annual NYC Musical saw Festival. 33 musical saw players registered to perform, including three who are flying to New York from Japan just in order to perform at the festival.

This is a video from last year’s festival:

If you attend the festival – come and say ‘hi’!
Where: Hellenic Cultural Center, 27-09 Crescent Street (corner of Newtown Avenue), Astoria, NY 11102
Admission: $10

Playing for Pocket Change

The Saw Lady — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 03:02:22 +0000

When I was playing at the Music Under New York busking spot at 59th street & Lex subway station, Mark and Michael of ‘Suddenly Tragic Productions’ stopped by to chat with me. They asked me a lot of questions. Of course I knew they were filming, but what I didn’t know at the time was that they were using all sorts of interesting lenses. I only learned about it from watching their video: (turn off the music player at the right-hand side of the blog before starting the video)

Thank you, Mark and Michael for a beautiful video!

Non-subway gig alert:
This Thursday, July 29th, I’ll be playing the musical saw with the Manhattan Chamber Orchestra at Symphony Space. This concert is recommended by the New York Times (scroll down to ‘Manhattan Chamber Orchestra’)

Also

Saturday, August 7th, 2pm, I’ll be playing the musical saw with a 10 piece jazz band at the NYC Musical Saw Festival (go to the festival’s website to print a flyer with all the details).

If you attend either of these gigs – come and say ‘hi’!

An Elevator Has Two Sets of Doors

The Saw Lady — Sat, 24 Jul 2010 16:22:20 +0000

When I was busking at the 14th street subway station, a teenager named Art rubbed my musical saw with his hand three times and said: “can I have three wishes?” He then went on to say: “I wish you’d play that song I like”. As I’ve seen him before many times I knew he meant the song from the movie ’13 Days in France’, so I played it.

A gentleman told me his name is Jose and asked me if I know Armand. Armand is a homeless guy who was sitting on the bench before, clapping his hands after each song I played. Jose told me that Armand told him that he is my friend. Jose said Armand is very wise and much older than what he looks. He knows how to stay young and to have his hair not turn white.
Jose had a bag of food he wanted to give Armand, but I couldn’t tell him where to find Armand. Jose asked me to tell Armand that he was looking for him, if I see him again.

When I was done busking for the day, I took the elevator down to the platform together with a lady. When the elevator got to the platform the doors opened and… there was another set of doors that remained closed. We could see a guy waving his arms in frustration on the other side of the closed doors. He wanted to take the elevator up. When we realized the doors won’t open, I pressed the ‘up’ button. The set of doors that were open didn’t close… I pressed the ‘close doors’ button and fortunately the doors closed and the elevator took us back upstairs. This end, the doors did open. The lady and I were very happy that we didn’t get stuck and we learned that an elevator has two sets of doors…

This Thursday, July 29th, I’ll be playing the musical saw with the Manhattan Chamber Orchestra at Symphony Space. Please click on the invitation above to enlarge and print. This concert is also recommended by the New York Times (scroll down to ‘Manhattan Chamber Orchestra’ )
If you attend the concert – come and say ‘hi’!

Poetry and Art

The Saw Lady — Sat, 17 Jul 2010 01:43:17 +0000

If I didn’t play the musical saw in the NYC subway, I would miss out on meeting some of the most wonderful people in the world whom I’ve met in the subway.
One such gentleman is Jeffrey Dayton, who surprised me with a beautiful poem he wrote:

You are the saw lady Natalia Paruz

Your spirit unwaivering you will never lose

Let your fingertips guide you through each melody

Your heart is pure it is easy to see

Don’t ever stop your battle is won

You know if you play they most definitely will come

Painting of Natalia ‘Saw Lady’ Paruz by Aaron Porter

Thank you Jeffrey, Aaron and all the other people I met in the subway.

I Think of You When You’re Not Here

The Saw Lady — Sat, 10 Jul 2010 20:05:16 +0000

As I was playing ‘Over the Rainbow’ while busking at the 14th street subway station, Joe Lucas, the homeless guy with the hook arm, showed up. I haven’t seen him in months. He went to Montana to visit a friend and then to Rhode Island to visit his sister. It was wild that he showed up right as I was playing his favorite song.
“Why did you come back to New York?”, I asked him.
“Because I missed you!”, he said.
He sat on the bench for a while. He then asked me to play ‘Over the Rainbow’ again. After listening to it he walked down to the uptown train platform, waving good-bye to me.

A lady told me that her youngest brother died two Fridays ago. He was 61 years old. He came home from church, ate, watched TV and all of a sudden his wife heard a strange noise. She came into the room and he was dead. It was a sudden heart attack. The lady told me that they used to be 10 kids in her family. By now it’s only her and her little sister left.
I told her that she has a lot of angles watching over her. She said she feels it.

A lady said to me: “I think of you when you’re not here”.

A guy said to me: “I’m sorry I don’t have any change but I like what you do a lot”.