Down in the "Tubes"

They play for you every day on your way to work. They cherish freedom and have high aspirations, too.

By Bhuchung D. Sonam

It was Friday afternoon and the sound of a guitar was heard from the Orange Line stop at the Downtown Crossing station. Beth Fridinger strums guitar and sings as a crowd of people pass by. A man put a dollar note in the empty guitar case lying on the floor. Fridinger smiled and nodded her head.

"I mostly do cover songs. Ideally, I would like to sing my own songs," Fridinger said. "But more upbeat songs do much better here." She kept fingerpicking as she talked.

Fridinger is a singer-songwriter who writes "truthful songs from the heart that encompass a mix of blues, classic rock, country, and bluegrass." She grew up in Boston and took piano lessons as a child. Later she learned to play guitar and sang in a gospel band called Sisters with Heads.

She was laid off from her job six years ago and later became a photographer. She started playing on the streets and in the subway in 2006.

"I hear people talk about layoffs every day now, and being a musician these days is incredibly hard," she said. "But it is very satisfying."

For musicians like Fridinger, playing in the subway enables artists to earn incomes while doing something that they are passionate about. It also allows them to meet different people - fellow musicians who offer to collaborate and business owners who invite them to play.

"I don't know where it may go. There can be a good collaboration. It's all possibilities," she said.

On the other side of the Downtown Crossing T Stop, as the passengers for the Red Line milled about the platform, Stanislav Antonevich, a former music professor, played his violin. After completing a sonata, he flapped the pages of his music book to find another piece to play.

Antonevich explained that he studied music at the Longy School of Music at Harvard University, earning a double masters degree in Jazz and Western Classical music. He later taught at the House of Arts in the United Arab Emirates. He said he recently quit, noting "freedom is what each artist needs."

"Pay was good in Emirates but I was a slave to a daily routine," Antonevich said. His agent wanted him to come back but freedom is "too precious."

Fridinger shares this sentiment but noted freedom sometimes comes with a price. "It is tough to brave the cold, the crowds and sometimes dangerous people. I got robbed once," said Fridinger.

In his student days, Antonevich played in the subway. He finds that people are less giving now than before. He takes a more philosophical view. "This is how things are when times are rough."

When the economy goes haywire and people try to find solace, Antonevich, Fridinger and others endure sunless days to bring a little life to the underground. For the musicians, it is as much to earn their living as the freedom to follow their dreams and to play what they want.