Playing for time: buskers fight for official stamp of approval audition for a licence to busk

The Namibian opera singer named after the Kalahari desert wowed the judges with Puccini. A jazz saxophonist in a curly wig reminisced about playing with Humphrey Lyttleton and the marks for most unusual performer went to the man with the didgeridoo.

It may have looked like a cross between Pop Idol and a village fete but, in the cathedral-like ticket hall of a London Underground station yesterday, this was the new face of British busking: loud, varied and carrying the stamp of official approval.

Over the next three weeks, some 500 musicians will audition in front of a panel of judges to become the first performers authorised to play in the foot tunnels and concourses of London's tube system.

On May 19, the first 300 "official buskers" will take up their positions for a four-month trial at 12 stations from Oxford Circus to London Bridge after decades of resistance from the authorities to people previously considered little more than beggars with banjos.

Six months ago, London Underground announced it was prepared to reverse its policy and bring the capital into line with Paris, New York and Tyne & Wear by letting buskers play without fear of arrest.

But the twist for the bluesmen, accordionists and guitar players who had braved fines and turf wars to busk illegally is that each must now win an official permit to perform on one of 25 stages sponsored to the tune of £600,000 by a global drinks giant.

For performers such as Angelina Kalahari, 37, a former professional opera singer born in Namibia who normally sings in Covent Garden, it is too good an opportunity to miss.

Speaking after she had made the atrium of Canary Wharf station echo to the strains of Puccini's Turandot, she said: "It will be a fantastic stage. There is nothing more satisfying than doing something that you love. If the passers-by give some money then that's great but frankly I would sing for nothing."

The scheme will initially work by establishing a pool of 300 performers to rotate around 25 pitches. Each will receive a photocard and "several" three-hour slots at different stations per week.

The buskers will have a purpose-built "stage" and the only money they receive will be from the traditional source of coins and the odd £5 note thrown by travellers.

An hour-long stay at the most sought-after spots – Oxford Circus and Bond Street - will net up to £40 or £50 an hour although a more average return is likely to be £10 an hour, the musicians said yesterday.

If the trial is successful, it will be expanded to include more performers at more stations by the end of the year.

But all is not harmony in busking circles about the card-carrying tube performer.

Some performers see the scheme as a corporate takeover of a harmless and unfettered art form.

Until now, buskers had run an informal but organised brotherhood (80 per cent are male) of designated pitches and agreed rotas, scribbled on paper and "posted" behind tube maps and poster boards.

Until bylaws forbidding buskers were changed performers also received £100 fines from patrolling police.

Unauthorised buskers will be cleared from stations.

Opponents of the scheme, set up with £600,000 from the brewer Carling, claim it will destroy spontaneity.

GOING UNDERGROUND?

Robert McCreath

Grizzled charmer with Canadian-Scots growl. Played blues guitar with bottleneck, somewhere between Elmore James and Chris Rea.

Robert Millner

Intense, black-bearded young fiddler, played exquisite violin and shifted into Irish reel. Turns out to be opera singer who has performed at Glyndebourne.

Sandra Lee

Painfully thin soprano, clad in witchy black. Sang 'Summertime' with slow and frightening overenunciation.

Andy Rudd

Clad in battered jeans and trainers, played expensive guitar, sang mournful ballad ver-y slow-lee. Turned out to be tabloid journalist.

Angelina Kalahari

Sturdy, black-frocked prima donna, sang belting snatch of Puccini with full operatic display. Gorgeous voice reverberated off tall buildings and concrete slabs two miles away.

Tiony Hitchings

Small, rodenty blues hero. Played acoustic with electric pick-up, deconstructing Elvis's 'Heartbreak Hotel' into banshee keening.

John Walsh