The Day the Music Got Locked Up

He’s a music man: Byard Lancaster, renowned jazz musician, was arrested for panhandling.

photo: Lexie Giarraputo

In a city full of crime, the cops bust a world-famous musician for playing music.

by Daryl Gale

For more than four decades Philly jazz great Byard Lancaster has blown his sax in concert halls around the world. This morning, he gives a command performance in front of a judge – charged with disorderly conduct last fall for playing on the street at 17th & Arch.

Lancaster is scheduled to appear at 8 a.m., Jan. 11, in room 404 of the Criminal Justice Center, where he faces a maximum penalty of 90 days in jail and/or a $400 fine for "playing various instruments, causing alarm in front of Wawa asking passersby for change," according to the police report filed by the arresting officer. Lancaster vehemently denies the panhandling charge, and wonders aloud how his music, hailed by critics worldwide, could be considered "causing alarm."

"I wasn’t panhandling," he insists. "Panhandling is against the law. I’m a teacher and community activist, I don’t break the law. Plus, I have my own money. I had a pocket full of credit cards when I was arrested."

But, again according to the arrest report, there was a coffee can near Lancaster that the officer considered a plea for spare change. Lancaster says while he often plays on the streets, he never actually solicits money from passersby, and the donations to the coffee can are strictly voluntary.

Interviewed in his spacious but modest Germantown home, Byard Lancaster is visibly angered by the arrest, but more disappointed in the treatment by police of street musicians in general. Surrounded by signed photos and personal mementos of some of the leading musicians, politicians and celebrities of the last half of the 20th century, Lancaster answers questions and tells his side of the story while noodling around on the sax, piano and flute. Even goofing off in his dining room, his talent is staggering. Softly playing on his stereo is a cut from Continues, his ninth solo CD, due out in May.

"This is my 27th year of playing on the streets of Philadelphia and this is the first time I was detained for it. On Oct. 18 I was taken by paddy wagon to the Ninth District, at 21st and Hamilton. The officers only told me that the sergeant wanted to talk to me. When I got there, Sgt. Leisner told me in no uncertain terms that they were cracking down on street musicians. He said, ‘The atmosphere in this district is changing in regard to street musicians. We cleaned up the prostitutes, now we’re coming after you guys.’ Then they let me go."

Lancaster says that a few weeks later, on Election Day, he was picked up in front of the Wawa at 17th & Arch.

"I didn’t even have my instruments out," he says, "everything was in my bag except my flute, and that was in my hand. I wasn’t even playing when he stopped me. He searched my bag, and that’s where he found the coffee can. If there was someone ‘causing alarm’ at that Wawa, it wasn’t me. Maybe it was the guy the officer let out of the wagon to put me in. When I asked him why I was being taken in, he actually said to me, ‘I’ll think of something by the time we get there.’ This time they kept me at the Ninth District for an hour and a half, still handcuffed. I asked five times for a phone call, but was refused."

Lancaster says he wanted to use that phone call to contact City Councilman Frank Rizzo, a longtime family friend and former employer to older brother Bert Lancaster, noted civic activist and Rizzo aide. Contacted at his office Tuesday, Rizzo was less than sympathetic to the city’s case.

"Of all the nuisances we deal with in this city, street musicians are the least amount of nuisance," Rizzo says. "I enjoy hearing these guys. I wish we could fill every corner in the city with musicians. I’ll probably get in trouble for saying this, but I always slip them a little money. To be honest, I wish I had the talent to play like that. There’s something about listening to a good musician, even for a few minutes, that brightens your day."

Rizzo goes on to speak glowingly of Byard and the whole Lancaster family, whom he praises for their musical and academic talents. In addition to Bert and Byard, there’s Mary Ann, a Ph.D. Educational Consultant and, of course, also a musician. Rizzo also says that if street musicians are going to be treated like annoying panhandlers, maybe it’s time for city council to step in and make the distinction.

"I’ll be reviewing this case and keeping up with this," Rizzo promises, "and if there’s some way for council to help, I’ll be the first in line."

Attempts to reach 9th District Sgt. Thomas Leisner for comment were unsuccessful, the officer answering the phone saying Leisner is on vacation. But Officer Carmen Torres of the Philadelphia Police Public Affairs Unit says all police personnel involved acted well within the bounds of their duties.

"We were called for a disturbance at the Wawa," Torres explains, "and officers responded. The officers observed him with a coffee can, and asking passersby for change. That is disorderly conduct. He was arrested, detained, then presented with a summons and released."

Told of Lancaster’s legendary status in jazz circles, Torres expressed sympathy that an icon could be reduced to playing on the street for spare change.

"That really is too bad," Torres says, "I hope he has family to help with his problems."

The only problems he has, Lancaster says, are with narrow-minded people who think playing on the streets is a sure sign of poverty. He has played for Presidents Bush and Clinton and performed with jazz notables fromJohn Coltrane to Rahsaan Roland Kirk.

"I don’t need the money, I need to make music," Lancaster says with a laugh. "I get paid to play in clubs and on albums, I play on the streets for the pleasure of the listeners. Musicians have played on the streets for years; sure, to supplement their income, but maybe more importantly to practice their chops in front of people. Jazz musicians especially bring a message that people on the streets may not normally get to hear. Jazz makes people think. I’ve been playing jazz since 1949 and the music still sounds revolutionary to me. I’m on a mission to deliver a pure message of music, like Coltrane said, ‘A Love Supreme.’"

Asked about his mission in front of the judge at his hearing, Lancaster smiles and talks about sending a wider message to the citizens of Philadelphia through his arrest.

"I hope people inform their elected city officials that street musicians are part of the cultural fabric of our city, and that we need their artistic expression. This kind of treatment is an embarrassment, not for me personally, but for the city of Philadelphia."

Next week: The hearing, the aftermath, a talk with Jules Epstein, Lancaster’s attorney and former WXPN DJ, and an examination of street musicians in Philadelphia and across the country.