Ever wonder what would happen if you took a renowned artist and put him to work an environment where he’s least expected? Would this artist still be the recipient of the recognition that society bestows him when put in the proper limelight? These are some of the questions that reporters at the Washington Post asked themselves almost two years ago when they devised a little experiment to test what would happen in such a case. The results were, unfortunately, not surprising.
For the purposes of the experiment the reporters had a violinist play his fiddle at the L’enfant Plaza, a more plebeian metro stop than most, for about 45 minutes. During this time about 1,100 people passed by.

Here’s what happened:

He began with “Chaconne” from Johann Sebastian Bach’s Partita No. 2 in D Minor, one of the world’s most difficult pieces to master.

Three minutes went by before something happened. Sixty-three people had already passed when, finally, there was a breakthrough of sorts. A middle-age man altered his gait for a split second, turning his head to notice that there seemed to be some guy playing music. Yes, the man kept walking, but it was something.

A half-minute later, he got his first donation. A woman threw in a buck and scooted off. It was not until six minutes into the performance that someone actually stood against a wall, and listened.

Things never got much better. In the three-quarters of an hour that he played, seven people stopped what they were doing to hang around and take in the performance, at least for a minute. Twenty-seven gave money, most of them on the run — for a total of $32 and change. That leaves the 1,070 people who hurried by, oblivious, many only three feet away, few even turning to look.

source: Pearls Before Breakfast - The Washington Post April 8, 2007

Over the course of the entire performance only one person recognized the artist. Joshua Bell was playing some of the world’s most beautiful masterpieces on his Gibson ex Huberman, a $3.5mio instrument, in near complete indifference. Three days earlier he had filled the house at Boston’s stately Symphony Hall, where mediocre seats went for $100. Two weeks later he would play to a standing-room-only audience so respectful of his artistry that they stifled their coughs until the silence between movements. But on that day at the L’enfant Plaza metro stop, Joshua Bell was just another mendicant, competing for the attention of busy people on their way to work.

What does this teach us? Are we all “touched by genius” but only a few to have fortune to find the approriate context to have it expressed in? Kant argued that one’s ability to appreciate beauty is related to one’s ability to make moral judgments. But there was a caveat. Kant felt that to properly appreciate beauty, the viewing conditions must be optimal. Optimal doesn’t mean heading to work, focusing on your report to the boss, maybe your shoes don’t fit right. Maybe I’ll get lucky one day and pick up a Manet at a flea market.