Oh....Copenhagen. My amazing week in Denmark began with a fabulous busking session right when I arrived. In fact, I think enough happened to swing a normally-formatted post with a numbered list and everything.
Køpenhavn: 4 and 9 November 2012
Valeria and I pulled into Copenhagen Central Station and decided to hop on buses to our respective destinations: her hostel and my CouchSurfing host's home. However, the bus meant getting money, and it was Sunday and there didn't seem to be any Bureaus-de-Change open near the station. Since I had a mishap with my bank card (accidentally shipped it from Scotland to the US), I didn't have access to an ATM for the first three weeks of my trip. I earned money by busking, then changed that money from Euros to Czech Krona back to Euros, and I intended to change what was left into Danish Krona. Despite retrieving my card in Berlin, I aspired to complete my whole trip without using an ATM (I made it until Reykjavik, but unfortunately caved). Since I couldn't change money, the only way to pay bus fare in Copenhagen this day was to withdraw money from an ATM then change it to coins in a bar somewhere. Orrrrr, to go busk. Additionally, it was a beautiful day, much warmer than Germany, and busking is a great introduction to a city. And so I said goodbye to Valeria and went out to find a spot on Strøget, the pedestrian shopping street.
When I had taken about ten steps, a man outside a cafe got my attention. He asked if he could take my photo, since I was very colorful. It's true, I was wearing my piano dress with clip-on flowers in my hair and red lipstick, wearing my green backpack covered in flag patches, and towing my colorful accordion box with my red coat strapped in. This was nice, because he and his two friends were really friendly about it, and the guy looked super Scandinavian. It was my first impression of Danish people, and Scandinavians in general, and it was a good one! Here's the photo he took, which he sent over:
I kept walking, passing a group of traditional Andean buskers and a couple men on guitars. I chose a spot just far enough away from one guitar player, in front of a closed jewelry shop. I didn't expect to stay long because it is a popular busking street and I was right across from a store with an open door, but no one gave me any trouble. It was also mostly flat enough for Flaca's mechanics to work! I arranged my luggage and unnecessary outerwear and got to work.
Things were weird with Flaca. For whatever reason, she was incredibly quiet. Her appeal is mostly visual, but I count on the sound coming from her feet both to attract attention and also as a cue for me if she is working, so I can look out at people rather than at her. She wasn't moving perfectly either, probably because the rubber band was on its way out. Mostly, she wasn't attracting attention.
I decided to do my old act. One gimmick of that act is the student loan sign which isn't great on the road, being in English. Everyone speaks English in Copenhagen, though, so I decided to display everything. It was so nice doing the old stuff! There are so many songs I haven't played for a couple months now because they don't work with Flaca, or I just haven't worked them out yet with her. I've missed them! I decided to take advantage of my fresh slate in the new town to get super into it, focusing on my full performance and trying to play off people. It paid off, and this act attracted more attention than Flaca's. Since I hadn't seen Danish money yet, I had no idea what tips were worth as they came in, so I couldn't estimate earnings. In the end it wasn't a hugely lucrative day, but it solved the initial problem of not having any currency and it was super fun.
1. An Irish family stopped by twice: two adult males and about four little boys, wearing matching tweed caps. They asked if I speak English, then asked if I know Irish tunes. I said I could do "Whiskey in the Jar," which they approved. I hadn't done it since St. Patrick's Day so it was rusty, but that mattered not since one little boy took over singing. So precious! They stopped again on their return trip and asked me to play another. I chose "The Wild Rover" this time, and a couple measures in, mentioned singing. I told the one boy that he had a much better singing voice than I, so he should sing, but the little munchkin insisted that I do the vocals as well. This is not something I usually do, but I raised my voice in a little sing-along. I secretly hoped the Irish pub across the street would hear this commotion and pay me to play inside. These boys were lovely, and it was a nice interaction!
2. I got a tip from a lady who looked to be very typically Danish. She was an older woman with long grey hair, wore a dress, and rode a typical vintage-style bicycle with a basket with flowers woven in. Her warm smile and words were another vote towards Danes being Great.
3. A teenage hooligan walked by with his friends during "The Final Countdown" and he gave me a typical rock star pose and hand gesture. Nice.
4. A middle-aged couple stopped, and we talked. "What is it called?" the woman asked. "An accordion!" "But what exactly would you call one of that size?" "A red 12-bass piano accordion." She explained that she used to have an accordion and has recently thought about picking it up again. I explained that mine was from eBay; a gift from my parents. "You have nice parents!" they exclaimed. "Yeah, well when they bought it they didn't expect me to end up playing it on the street in Copenhagen!" Hee hee.
5. Another busker band set up quite close on my other side: accordion, double bass, and a third. I'm sure they were great, since I love that kind of thing, but they were so close! But they packed up quite quickly.
6. The first Great Dane I had met stopped by again, and this time saw everything unpacked. He took another photo:
7. A [crazy woman] walked by, muttering, "...taking the energy out of the women and putting it on sofas in the wind." You tell 'em.
I packed up for the sanity of shop workers, but it was getting busier on the streets! I was going to do another set with Flaca because it was dark and the lights would add to the effect, but I wouldn't really find another spot. Also, I was looking forward to meeting Henrik, my seemingly adorable host :). I saw a few other buskers: a juggler doing a big circle show, a guy who had walked past me playing guitar and singing with lots of equipment and selling CDs. Over the course of my week there I heard a man playing "Memory" on the clarinet about fifteen times.
I didn't busk again for a few days. We did, however, record a video on election day. I went out again the following Friday, for a brief set in the late afternoon hours. This time I set up on another pedestrian shopping street where I had previous seen buskers and high school students selling various goodies as a fundraiser. Oh, a youth/high school choir had been out at one point.
This set was quite bad. I forgot about the previous reaction to Flaca and used her, but I made very little money. I did attract attention, and had a lot of strollers halted to watch. Kids did look around the back, as they do best, but their parents didn't always give them something to throw in. This was probably a bad time of day, when folks were going home, but it was still disconcerting. Copenhagen's a cool place, why the bad rates?
I may possibly go back though, because my host turned out to, in fact, be adorable in real life. If I do go back I will seek non-shopping pitches and try to find the best possible act for this city. Regardless of the lack of money made, busking in Copenhagen was great.
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