Wrong Era
A lone trumpet player sits beneath the overpass along the Highline. He traveled there alone, and he will travel home alone. He creates for the sole purpose of his own enjoyment; no instrument case lies in front of him. He’s not begging for money, but rather for redemption of the artistic community in which he resides. The loss of such great musicians and talent, the closing of the Chelsea Hotel, and the increasing digitization of music haunt his mind.
This man yearns to be part of the past, to be remembered as a great musician. His improvisation goes unnoticed by many. They take it in stride, his music, like a permanent installment in a museum to a time long gone. Those that do notice listen without observing. There is no one standing in front of him, and it is difficult for him to discern those listening from those simply walking through. This interaction truly represents the community of the neighborhood of Chelsea. Creation and improvisation for the sake of itself is abundant. Therefore, this musician can feel validated in himself despite not ever discovering who is experiencing his music.

Highline Creative Response (Video)