Gypsy Life

Walking along Pfauengasse yesterday I came across a musician playing accordion and singing. Her act was unusual for two reason--first, you don't see many accordionists and second most street musicians are men. I took a seat on a concrete block across the street and listened for a long while as she did Irish and English folk songs, Spanish, and German pieces and slipped in some early Bob Dylan as well.
I don't know why, but I thought I knew her from somewhere. She definitely had something. People not only dropped Euros and kept walking by (the usual thing), many stopped to listen for sometime. Three older men stayed for at least a half an hour putting Euros in her case not once but four times.

Children especially liked the accordion and her voice. Babies in perambulators turned their heads and widened their eyes with delight as parents wheeled them by. Older children stopped, halting parental progresses, and entreated mom and dad for spare change.

I had my guitar with me. I had taken it hoping to find someone playing music. But it's bad form to cramp a street musician's act. Afterall they're trying to earn a living. But after listening for sometime I took out my guitar and a miracle! I was in tune with her accordion. I quietly fingerpicked some accompaniment from my spot across the street. It sounded pretty good and she smiled, which I took as sign she didn't mind. When she took a break, I went over and asked her if she knew Adieu, sweet lovely Nancy an traditional English seafaring song done by Maddie Prior and Steeleye Span. She didn’t.

Again I had the feeling that I knew her and I was about to say something when she asked: Don't I know you from somewhere? It was both odd and familar, like meeting an old friend for the first time.

I bought her CD--A Royal Hearts Flush and headed back to my apartment, ate a quick lunch, and played her CD. It was alright, but not nearly as good as her street performance. Who was this person anyway? I took the CD from the player and in tiny red lettering was the name Brigitte Graykastle.

On an impluse, I copied the words to Adieu, sweet lovely Nancy and returned to the street. Brigitte had changed locations and was playing at the Alter Korn Market. She smiled when she saw me and I sat down in a sunny place and listened. And as I followed her around for the rest of the day, I learned a few things about the life of a street musician. Street performers must have a license to play for money and the police did check to insure she was licensed and playing in the areas assigned her. Street musicians can play only 30-45 minutes in one location and it is illegal to play between the hours of one and three.

During her enforced break, Brigitte and I went into the Moritz to warm up with coffee. She told me about busking in Munich when she was 21 and her travel to Scotland to learn the highland songs and to speak English with a brogue. "People think I'm Irish. Then when I speak German they say: Wow, you really nailed the Bavarian dialect. I am Bavarian." And she smiles.

At 300 she took up a new location at Neupfarrplatz where she did what she called her second act singing the poetry of Robert Burns and Robert Frost set to her own music. Her last stand was Rathausplatz where she did international standards in French, Spanish, and Japanese as well as English. Near the end of her time, three young girls came by--obviously on their way to get a cone at the fancy ice cream shop near the fountain. They stopped and listened and as they did, I could almost see the light blub come on over their heads as they watched this talented confident woman performing--we could do that! The girls huddled for a moment then took out their ice cream money and tossed it into Brigitte's case.
Brigitte plays once a week in Regensburg. Stop, listen and show your appreciation.

Adieu, sweet lovely Nancy, ten thousand times adieu,
For I’m going around the ocean love to seek for something new.
Come change your ring with me, dear girl, come change your ring with me,
That it might be a token of true love while I am on the sea.

And when I’m far across the sea you’ll know not where I am.
Kind letters I will write to you from every foreign land.
The secrets of your mind, dear girl, are the best of my good will,
So let my body be where it might my heart will be with you still.

There’s a heavy storm arising; see how it gathers round,
While we poor souls on the ocean wide are fighting for the crown.
There’s nothing to protect us, love, or to keep us from the cold
On the ocean wide where we must bide like jolly seamen bold.

There are tinkers tailors and shoemakers lie snoring fast asleep,
While we poor souls on the ocean wide are plowing up the deep.
Our officers commanded us and them we must obey,
Expecting at every moment for to get cast away.

But when the wars are all over there’ll be peace on every shore;
We’ll return to our wives and our families and the girls that we adore.
We’ll call for liquor merrily and we’ll spend our money free,
And when our money it is all gone we will boldly go to sea.