It is not so much climate change as the changing habits of the townspeople, which are sometimes brought home instead of souvenirs from trips or living abroad, which determine the fact that the four seasons no longer have such an impact on life in the main streets of the city. Of course, no one is going to drink coffee on the street during the November rain, but the early spring sun is a reason enough to start bringing tables outside. And if cafes were to put a heater, people would be able to enjoy the outside for three quarters of the year.
And where there is coffee, a doughnut, planned or random meetings, and conversations, there is music. Throughout the ages, traveling musicians (and other artists) have made a living where they knew they would be heard. Nothing has changed. A street is a concert hall with the fastest-changing repertoire where old-timers fit in with newcomers and beginners with those who have been playing for decades. No one knows whether the passer-by, who may be a prosecutor, architect, bureaucrat, schoolkid, carpenter, or doctor, will like it. That magic between the musician and the listener doesn’t happen every day but without it, to quote the poem by Jovaras Kelpšas, the city is just buildings.
This month, we talk about (not only) street music that is not only heard but also felt in our hearts, both with its performers and those, who walk around, listen, record and even organize it. From the gray-bearded Mr. Vytautas, who welcomed the members of our editorial team into his house in Kleboniškis, to Barbora, who has played almost all the concert halls of the world but does not hide her violin on the train. Karolis who cannot live without European streets shares his international experience and Kristijonas, who has set up a studio in an old synagogue, remembers his baptism in Palanga.
Simona strives to make city events as interesting and open to everyone as possible. Audrius, sitting down in a Georgian restaurant, explains his unique ideas for making the city’s musical background interesting, meaningful, and valuable. We also managed to get an artificial intelligence-enriched interview from the alternative people gathering in Šančiai, and the photographer Remis presented his unique interpretation of the term in images. This time the issue is spacious! After all, there is music hidden between the lines.
