BART busker reflects on 7 years of playing violin for tips at San Francisco stations

In his spare time, John Bridenbeck is a busker in the Bay Area. Here he performs for commuters at the BART Powell St. station. In his spare time, John Bridenbeck is a busker in the Bay Area. Here he performs for commuters at the BART Powell St. station. Photo: Blair Heagerty / SFGate Photo: Blair Heagerty / SFGate Image 1 of / 12 Caption Close BART busker reflects on 7 years of playing violin for tips at San Francisco stations 1 / 12 Back to Gallery

You can often hear John Bridenbeck long before you see him.

The notes of Bridenbeck's violin sail softly through the air at many of the BART stations he visits with his violin, playing Bach or Vivaldi pieces to the fast-moving commuter crowds. He's often wearing his signature cap with a violin case propped up in front of him and a small speaker that acts as accompaniment.

Bridenbeck has been busking at BART stations for the better part of the past seven years, at one point doing it full-time and relying solely on tips he receives from strangers. He is part of a community of sorts, comprised of buskers who can be seen and heard at all times of day, entertaining BART commuters across the Bay Area.

"I involve myself with the community of buskers and there's a lot of us that do the same," Bridenbeck said. "There's a dozen people out there that I'll see from spot to spot, and sometimes we'll even go get lunch after we're done busking. We'll talk about new spots we've tried out, trade off spots, so I would say most of it is a community. There's lots of travelers that will come through and be here for a couple of weeks, and we take them under our wing and show them some spots before they jump to the next city."

Bridenbeck's observant nature can be seen in a number of the ways he does his busking at each BART station. During his time when he was busking full-time, he would meticulously track the times and places that paid the most on spreadsheets to best optimize his time. According to him, the best tips generally came from the Embarcadero, Montgomery, Powell and Civic Center stations — "that is by virtue of all four lines running through those stations," Bridenbeck said — but he often travelled to other parts of the BART system, playing for passengers disembarking from the Walnut Creek or MacArthur stations.

Bridenbeck spent six years busking full-time, with 2017 being the last year where busking was his main source of income. In 2015, he did an analysis of his income and figured that he was averaging $38.04 an hour, with a standard deviation of $16.41, saying that about 70 percent of the time he was just within that range. An average day was comprised of playing two or three hour sets as trains moved in and out of stations, and a typical (but not spectacular) day would often yield about $100.

"The money is better than minimum wage, but not by a whole lot," Bridenbeck said of busking. "It's physical labor. It is hard work. You don't always get a spot. While the law of large numbers means that you're going to eventually make the same amount, sometimes you'll have several bad weeks and that can be emotionally taxing. ... I'd say a lot of people do leave busking because of the money and the stress. It does weigh on some people more than it does me."

A lot has evolved since Bridenbeck's early days of busking in 2012; among the changes he's noticed has been the rise of cashless tipping.

"I've definitely had lots of people say, 'Don't you take Venmo?'" recalled Bridenbeck.

By Bridenbeck's estimate, only one in 10 buskers have ventured into the brave new world of using QR codes for Venmo, PayPal or Square as an alternate for cash tips so far. He believes that number will eventually evolve to 10 out of 10 in another 10 years.

"My friends that have done that are noticing that [QR codes are] another source of income," Bridenbeck said. "But people are tipping via PayPal and Venmo and other platforms, so I think it's a useful thing for buskers to be doing — and if you aren't doing it now, you're starting to go the way of a dinosaur."

One other noticeable change to busking has been the uptick in commuters wearing headphones — which, Bridenbeck noted, is not great for business.

"I think a greater contributor to what might be declines in income is the ubiquitousness of headphones these days," Bridenbeck said. "A lot of people on the subway system have something in their ear, and it's just kind of hard for me to wiggle in there if it's blocked out."

In 2016, Bridenbeck answered questions about busking as part of an "Ask Me Anything" post on Reddit. Among some of the sadder changes to his busking group since then has been the people who've since moved on or passed away.

"There was a really great community of people that I knew I was going to see at certain stations when I went there," Bridenbeck said of the earlier years. "But I want to say around two years ago, things just really started changing with the people that were out busking. I had a bunch of friends switching to more traditional careers where you have an employer and a paycheck. I had too many of my fellow buskers pass away from various things, some staple figures in San Francisco. There is a guy who used to play harmonica at the cable car, Blue. I think he started doing it in the '90s and he was just a rock in our society; then he got cancer and wound up dying in a tent over on Fourth and Bryant, because he was a homeless veteran. Some people have moved on."

Bridenbeck no longer busks full time; instead, he has found work as a neuromonitoring technologist for brain and spine surgeries in a local hospital. Despite his job, he still loves to perform for those traveling the railway, following the siren call to play the violin at places like the Powell Street station, which he frequents. So far, he's visited 17 of the 48 BART stations, with plans to play at every location.

The interaction with people is what brings Bridenbeck back to busking when he has a spare moment. He's seen the gamut of reactions to his violin playing, from people walking past him making a face and plugging their ears, to more tender moments, such as when one listener began to cry and shared with him that their mother played the violin and had recently passed away.

"It is a source of satisfaction for me to go out busking," Bridenbeck said. "I feel very weird and off if I don't do it for a week or two, and then I immediately feel better once I go out there. I definitely still open my (violin) case because that's what I've been doing for years and an extra 30, 40 bucks for a set — that isn't insignificant no matter how much money you make — but I get to smile at people. I can't stand on a street corner and smile at strangers without somebody being like, 'Well, that's a weird dude. What's his ulterior motive?' But if I open up a case and play the violin, I could smile at anybody and they'll smile back, and it's not weird."

Dianne de Guzman is a Digital Editor at SFGATE. Email: dianne.deguzman@sfgate.com