by The inappropriately tropical sounds of The Girl From Ipanema float through the cooling evening air in Covent Garden as shoppers pass a few buskers to an inspired rendition of the bossa nova classic.
In front of the young singer and the guitarist who is with her is the guitar case, holding a handful of coins. Little is added as they run through Misty, Fly Me to the Moon and a hilarious Silent Night. But their efforts are not unappreciated. Dancing around them are the twins Hubert and Harold Pereira, known street performers. Hubert says London has good ones, but in New York and other US cities, “they’re better because they’re bigger”.
Prohibition completely ignores the professionalism of what we do. We have safety protocols and we are all insured in case something goes wrong
He’s referring to how full bands, across the Atlantic, play in the streets with elaborate sound systems. In contrast, measures are underway to limit street performers in terms of sound and space, and to ban the use of “open flames, pyrotechnics, fireworks, knives, sharp objects or the like”.
Next week, Westminster councilors will meet to discuss the tightening of bus controls. A licensing system introduced in April 2021 has not stopped the flow of noise and disturbance complaints.
Inside a Ritual beauty shop, the jazz duo outside can be clearly heard, but the manager, Poppy Constable, isn’t worried.
“Personally, I think busking is a beautiful tradition,” she says. “From a business perspective, it can be difficult when I’m talking to customers, but I think other things cause a lot more noise pollution. I think it’s a happy thing when people show their talent.”
The only person who resents him is the street performer Daniel the Magician, who asks the guitarist to turn down his volume so as not to drown out his own act. “The buskers are the problem with licenses,” says Daniel. “They play as loud as they want, and nobody does anything about them.”
Most of the acts in Covent Garden do not have a Westminster council performance licence; instead they self-regulate under the auspices of the Covent Garden Street Performers’ Association. They are proud to be part of a tradition that goes back hundreds of years, at least to the days of Samuel Pepys and probably much longer. They say Westminster is unfairly targeting them, as most of the complaints, they say, relate to musicians in Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus.
Richard Filby’s juggling act and comedy, performed on the large cobbled space in front of the Inigo Jones-designed actors’ chapel, St Paul’s, are the kinds of sharp knives that worry Westminster councillors. “It’s a real cloud,” he says of the aforementioned regulatory enforcement.
Filby, who started out in Queensland, Australia, 15 years ago works in Covent Garden daily: it is his main source of income. His act theoretically violates some Westminster regulations, but he is particularly quick about the knife ban.
“It completely ignores the professionalism of what we do,” he says. “We have safety protocols, we have experience, and we are all insured in case something goes wrong. There has never been a complaint about safety in my act.”
On the other side of the piazza, Daniel, originally from Poland, is stuffing a long balloon down his throat while calling out to passers-by. “Hi Dad,” he shouts to an older man standing with his wife. “You’re out of jail! Great. But who is that woman? She’s not Mom.”
There is laughter as some members of the audience leave. It’s a tough way to earn money: you have to stop the audience first and then keep them away from the warm interior of shops until he comes to pass the hat around. Daniel says the stress made him quit doing it full time.
Today, many people do not carry cash, so performers offer card reading machines. Daniel asks for a contribution of £5 or £10, a request that most viewers feel unable to resist. “Today is not a good day,” he says.
One observer, Michael Umama from Colombia, says that the level of street performance in London is very high because it is a sustainable Darwinian environment. “It’s a real testament to character and talent,” he says. “If you restrict these people, you are clipping the wings of someone who has something to offer the world.”
But what people may not be destined to fly high? In Piccadilly Circus, a young man with a microphone and a loud backing track is murdering Snow Patrol’s Chasing Cars.
A few feet away is the Criterion theatre, where David Gore sits in the box office. It’s all in favor of the profiteers, and the theater supports all forms of creative art, but the lack of quality control is a lament.
“That man is out of tune and out of key. Everyone turns the volume up to 11, and it’s the same four songs all day. All those songs you liked? I hate them now.”
Lowering the size may be an achievable ambition for Westminster. But unless Simon Cowell becomes a consultant, there will be no control over talent.
