It is almost impossible to traverse the tunnel between the 1 line and the Port Authority Bus Terminal without spotting a Bible verse.
Thousands of people each day pass signs lining the walls with Biblical passages. At the center of these declarations sits a table with religious pamphlets, and in front of the table someone is always pacing and booming a sermon at the ceiling, intent on saving souls on their way to the 7. For many commuters, the daily contact with religion may be fleeting, but it is an essential part of the commute. For subway preachers and musicians, it’s a way of life.
One man who identified himself as Shawn sat quietly at one side of the pamphlet table as trains roared above and beneath him. He spoke of getting “saved” after being “on a kidney machine for 14 years.” Because he now collects disability payments, he says, “He [Jesus] has got me doing this.” The tunnel setup, which he said was affiliated with the King James Bible Baptist Church, currently has no other geographical manifestation, according to Shawn.
Shawn was neither assertive nor abrasive but said those who didn’t believe would “burn in hell.” He said the Port Authority tunnel setup has been in operation for two and a half years, at first only on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, then increasing its presence to 24/7. “We can’t go home,” Shawn said. “Too much stuff to carry.”
Other subway presences preach solo. On the 42nd Street NQRW platform, a man named Joachim strummed a guitar and pounded his bare feet to the beat, while sitting next to his sandals, open guitar case, and sign delineating the best method of prayer.
Joachim—he prefers his name to be spelled with Hebrew characters—called the platform “holy ground” and said that he had to take his shoes off to “sing Him praise.” He said he has been working the subways for six years and is no longer homeless.
“God sent me to work here,” he said. “I could have been working different jobs for more money.”
The tunnels can be home to talent, too. A consistent contributor to the tunnels is the audition-only company Music Under New York, which helps performers organize and reserve spaces and times in the subway. In the Times Square station, Michael Montaperto performs classical guitar. He entered the program eight years ago and calls in every two weeks to book the spots that he wants. “I can play as long or as short as I want to. ... It’s kind of a free life, in a way,” he said.
Montaperto said he is not skilled enough to book more ritzy gigs or do studio work, so subway platforms are good stages for him. He appreciates the disconnect of this type of musical performance. “You don’t have to focus as much as you do when people buy a ticket to see you play,” he said.
But he feels like he “definitely serve[s] a need,” referring to the ability of music to calm the angry passersby. “I’m a musical therapist for the commuters of New York City,” he said, laughing.
At the Union Square stop, a short, bald freelance violin player with glasses, who declined to be named or have his face photographed, played the “Summer” concerto of Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons” with considerable technique. He identified himself as a native of Israel and three-year resident of New York who sometimes plays the tunnels to keep his skills fresh and make a bit of money. He was eager to return to playing to the always passive, rarely engaged audience that is the subway.
