‘The World Passes In Front Of Us’: Meet NYC's Subway Performers

NEW YORK CITY — Some say the subway is the lifeblood of New York City, but for others it’s a stage.

They play for an audience of millions a day — all that’s needed is $2.75 for a ticket.

Their livelihoods suffered as the coronavirus burned through the city, but they're bouncing back.

Their voices, instruments and bodies join a symphony of humanity, creativity and, sometimes, depravity echoing through the city’s subterranean caverns.

And though they play on what’s arguably the city’s largest stage, they’re also its keenest spectators.

Meet New York City’s subway performers.

'The Music Is For Your Soul And Ears'

A crowd gathered at the 34th Street station on a sweltering late September day to listen to an R&B singer with a voice so powerful it could fill the space without the aid of a microphone.

Azusa SHESHE Dance belted "Mustang Sally."

“I’m bringing you Southern roots in Northern jazz country,” SHESHE told Patch. “I’m purposely bringing something different.”

SHESHE — who covers classic soul and blues singers from Etta James, James Brown and Ray Charles (music that has “some meat") — told Patch she has a Queen Latifah movie, two creative kids of whom she's intensely proud, and a Chattanooga choir to thank for her thriving underground career.

“Who doesn’t sing in the shower," SHESHE quipped. "And what Black girl doesn’t sing in church?"

SHESHE's journey into the world of New York City subway performance begins with the 2007 remake of “Hairspray."

Her kids, who loved the movie, inspired SHESHE to audition, reluctantly, for a local production of the movie musical in Chattanooga.

SHESHE landed the part of Motormouth Maybelle. The first time she sang at rehearsal, the theater went silent, that is, until the director jumped up and slammed down the piano lid with a bang.

SHESHE waited in terror.

“This is going to be one helluva show,” he said.

“It was like the best first experience of my life," SHESHE added. "I got hooked.”

After many local performances, an aunt encouraged SHESHE to move to New York City, where she has, among other places, performed on the Apollo’s stage.

Her success led SHEHE to a Music Under New York audition in Grand Central Station that was blessed by a technical glitch: the microphone stopped working.

SHESHE just kept belting Big Mama Thornton’s version of “Hound Dog" without it.

“When I get out," SHESHE told Patch. "The judges are on their feet."

SHESHE remained skeptical about the practicalities of subway performing until her first three-hour shift came to an end and she counted her cash. She's made $400.

“Are you kidding me?” SHESHE remembers saying. Her doubts were quelled.

SHESHE notes the job comes with some risk, but her past life in Tennessee — she has a degree in criminal justice and, worked in local courts — left her well prepared.

“I know how to protect myself,” she said.

And if there are some bad actors, there are more fans.

Some can hide 45 minutes behind pillars to watch her set, others send praise from overseas, and a few without cash deposit cigarettes in her tip bucket. (“I don’t even smoke,” she said with a laugh.)

“I love it, even if I had a contract and was making millions of dollars, I would still do it,” she said.

“There’s nothing more rewarding. I wish everyone would have five or 10 minutes to have everyone loving what you’re doing.”

Unfortunately, the appreciative crowds dried up during the pandemic and the work hasn't been quite the same since SHESHE returned.

Straphangers are more likely to give digital tips, and that's only when they’re around.

“It’s definitely a desert,” she said. “The only time you have crowds is when a train stops.”

The day Patch visited SHESHE at 34th Street, a train must have stopped because the crowd was there.

Among them, a newfound fan named Helen who spent the better part of 20 minutes tapping her foot to the music.

“Whenever I see someone I like, I stop,” Helen said. “The music is for your soul and ears.”

'There Were No Cops This Day'

Zuique, a Brazilian guitarist who plays classic American and British rock, is used to the kids who try to steal his tips, but he can't forget the "super high" man who stared him down as he held a knife.

“There were no cops this day,” Zuique told Patch.

Zuique has been performing in Manhattan's 42nd Street Station since August and already has had a fair amount of such run-ins.

Even as Zuique's guitar drowns out the click-click-clicks of nearby turnstiles, he's aware of the ever-present threat that has left him with a controversial wish: he wants more cops in the subway.

In the months before the pandemic, thousands of New Yorkers rallied in the streets and subways — facing arrest and violent encounters with police — in a last-ditch effort to stop then-Gov. Cuomo from increasing police presence underground to crack down on fare evasion.

But some New Yorkers have warmed to the idea amid a recent spate of subway violence that saw Michelle Go shoved to her death on the tracks and a mass shooting in a Brooklyn subway station that left pools of blood on the platform.

While Zuique would feel safer with more police presence, he won't stop playing. The money, and the work, is too good.

“In Brazil it wasn’t good, my style especially,” he said.

Zuique’s sets feature favorites — Guns N’ Roses and Supertramp, to name a few — he discovered thumbing through among his father's vinyls while growing up in Brazil.

Zuique took a pause from music when moved to the U.S. seven years ago and started working construction, but when jobs dried up in March, he decided to take his guitar to Central Park.

The subway is Zuique’s now stage five days a week, even through hot summer days when sweat pours.

“Today, I make the same money I make in construction,” he said.

And it’s only gotten better in recent weeks as more and more New Yorkers have returned to the subway.

“Most of them just walk past, they pass and clap their hands,” he said. “There are people who spend more than an hour.”

As Zuique expands his repertoire, he’s now adding Brazilian songs to the mix.

“People like it,” he said. “I love it.”

'I See The Town Square’

As Natalia “Saw Lady” Paruz bends her musical saw, New York City’s subways vibrate.
The ethereal withering from Paruz’s instrument inside Union Square station mingled with the vibrant hum of the city itself.

“It’s amazing to be part of this tapestry,” she told Patch. “I enjoy being in the subway and playing in the subway more than anywhere else.”

And buskers — the term Paruz prefers to "subway performer" — know better than most how the city’s tapestry frayed during the coronavirus pandemic.

For 20 years, Paruz has drawn a bow along her musical saw’s edge, twisted its blade and made it sing in stations across the city. They’re not her only venue — she has a prolific career above ground, with albums, videos, a sizable social media presence and a long list of credits on film and television soundtracks, including HBO’s “The Jinx.”

But nothing compares to the subway.

Paruz loves the concert hall-level acoustics in the subway’s caverns, the passersby who share her performances on Instagram, the bustle of an entire city rushing past.

But that ended abruptly when the coronavirus pandemic hit and forced shut down the city's official Music Under New York program, silencing its 350 performers, Paruz included, who perform in New York's 472 subway stations.

When Paruz returned, she found her beloved subways had transformed into something much more empty and, at times, violent than before.

“I see the town square,” she said. But then she added, “You can also the scary people walking by and then still harassing people.”

But as the subway bounces back — ridership has since rebounded to March 2020 levels of roughly three million daily riders — the music has returned.

Crime has always been a worry in the subway, but amid the pandemic Paruz said found herself threatened by disturbed people like never before. She finds herself thankful for when she sees NYPD officers patrol her favorite haunts such as 34th Street station.

“From what I see, it's just more people who need help,” Paruz said.“I guess that's not surprising given like it's been a rough couple years and I imagine that it's stressful for everyone, even the people who need help.”

But the thin crowds are filling out as New Yorkers gingerly return to a tenuous state of normalcy. Subway ridership has rebounded to roughly three million daily riders, a level not seen since March 2020.

To Paruz, all New York City is in need of soothing after the pandemic’s travails. And few things, she believes, provide a balm like live performance.

While many performers have turned to virtual gigs on Zoom and Facebook, Paruz finds they lack the intimacy of person-to-person interactions she has on the subway.

In recent weeks, she has added more popular pieces such as John Lennon’s “Imagine” and Louis Armstrong’s “What A Wonderful World” to her repertoire.

“They soothe the soul," she said. "They soothe the spirit."

Paruz isn't giving up on the subways, or New Yorkers. She loves both too much.

“As a subway musician," Paruz said."The world passes in front of us.”

Click here to visit Azusa SHESHE Dance's website.

Click here to visit Zuique's Instagram page.

Click here to visit Natalia "Saw Lady" Paruz's website.