Yawning Bread. 26 September 2009

Singapore buskers are really bad


    

 

 

Our beggars squawk. Therefore in this clean city of ours we have no beggars. We have buskers.

But seriously....

 

Have you noticed that what passes for busking in Singapore is often just bad bathroom singing? This must be because begging is illegal in Singapore, so our beggars have restyled themselves as buskers. Frankly, I'd rather beggars just kept quiet and begged. Instead they add to the headache-inducing cacophony in our public spaces. For heaven's sake, half of them are tone-deaf, and they all have amplifiers.

Part of the problem, I suspect, is traceable to a general condition that Singapore suffers from. It is called insularity or provincialism. We just have no idea about other places and their higher standards, and so we are never impatient with our own low standards. This is true of service quality, of social etiquette in public places, of censorship, of human rights violations, and of busking.

In many cities around the world, buskers are a joy to encounter. They do interesting things; they make good music. I've even come across a string quartet from a music conservatory that held their practice rehearsals in an underground passageway. You can imagine the quality of music they treated the public to.

(And how clever, I thought. By a single stroke, they advertise their upcoming concert, they get paid for rehearsing and the public gets a wonderful few moments of great music.)

I've seen mime artists entertain children so well, parents are more than happy to tip.

But in our half-baked plan to control every activity of Singaporeans and sterilise our city -- outlaw begging! -- while trying to add a veneer of class to a society made up of plebians, we have made our beggars into squawking nuisances at every other corner.

 

Of course, I am speaking of the general case. There may be gems on the streets of Singapore and I don't meant to tar every busker with the same brush. But I think anyone who has been observing this scene will agree that good buskers are few and far between. And they're probably foreign too.

 

Yet, Singapore has a bureaucratic system for issuing busking permits. We love creating bureaucratic systems, we do. The National Arts Council (NAC) says the aims of its scheme are:
  • Help enliven the streets of Singapore and to add colour to city life
  • Provide an opportunity for Singaporeans to exhibit their artistic talents in designated public spaces 
  • Make the arts more accessible to the public

My guess is that since Singaporeans are acculturated to think that performing for coins is demeaning -- I mean, come on, we even think that providing service to customers is demeaning -- very, very few Singaporeans with talent would consider busking on the streets and apply to the NAC. Family shame would put a stop to any such crazy idea.

So who's left? The beggars.

Of course, this leaves unanswered the question how they managed to get past the auditions that the National Arts Council requires them to go through. Might the council find itself between a rock and hard place? After all, it can only approve what applicants come through its door.

But why should it approve applicants who have no talent? Does the NAC find itself unable to say No to people who are desperately poor?

And then Singaporeans actually drop coins to reward the noise-makers. We reward people for making our public spaces more unpleasant for us. How perverse can we get? Of course we know why they do that. They do it out of pity. They certainly can't be doing that because these "buskers" make good music.

A vicious cycle results. Passers-by are moved by pity. Knowing that, the "buskers" make no effort to perform better. In fact, the more wretched they are, visually and aurally, the more they may be rewarded. The social rule becomes: Give me money not because I provide good service/music/performance, but because you are rich and I am poor and untalented.

How do we raise standards when people think like that?

* * * * *

 
The doorman of the hotel helped me get a taxi after my checking out.

"Could you tell the driver he should use the meter?" I requested of the doorman. Bangkok taxi drivers like to avoid the metered rate when going to the airport.

A short conversation in Thai ensued between driver and doorman.

"OK, he use meter," the doorman assured me. Indeed, the driver turned on the meter as soon as I boarded his vehicle.

In the first fifth of the journey, the driver made a little small talk. Which country was I from? he asked. Where was I going?

Oh yes, Singapore very beautiful, he said, though he had never been here. "Singapore money very strong." 

I knew that was coming.

The remaining four-fifths of the journey had just one refrain: "You give me tip, OK? Thailand money very little. Singapore money strong. Singapore country rich. You give tip?"

This attitude is one that sees an obligation to transfer wealth simply because there is a gap in social status. Just because you (or your group) has more money or higher status, so you should give some to me. You should help me.

Wealth transfer can be justified on practical social grounds, altruism even has a good moral case behind it, but what we're seeing here goes beyond that. It's become an expectation on the part of the potential recipient that overwhelms the motive for providing good work. His lower social status is considered enough to impel wealth transfer. He feels no contractual obligation in return to do something to earn it, even when he can.

 

Here, I am merrily assuming that these noise-makers have busking permits issued by the NAC.

They seem to be because their equipment appear to meet the conditions set out by the NAC.

If they don't and seem to be immune from police intervention, then that raises another question: How do our police choose to enforce or not enforce public nuisance laws? 

 

The taxi-driver expected a tip for no extra service. In fact, his constant harping about a tip degraded the quality of the basic service he was providing in return for the agreed metered fare. When this kind of mentality takes root, standards come down; there is no impulse to raise them.

Busking in Singapore seems no different. Too often, the dynamics involved spring from the same mentality. In this respect, we really are a Third World city.

© Yawning Bread 


 

Naturally, I paid him exactly what the meter said when we reached the airport. Not a satang more. The driver cursed me, my mother and all my descendents. 

A survey-taker approached me in the transit area. When she had ticked all the necessary boxes, she said, "Thank you and I hope you had a nice stay in Thailand."

 

Footnotes

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Addenda

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