Wuilly Arteaga playing for evening commuters at Penn Station.Credit...Ashley Gilbertson for The New York Times

A Peace Icon Moves to New York, Where ‘Everything Is Safer’

After surviving jail in Venezuela, a self-taught violinist gets the chance to play once more.

Mr. Arteaga is a self-taught violinist and a Venezuelan dissident.

My violin has always been my ticket to freedom.

I was raised in Valencia, Venezuela, by a poor, evangelical Christian family. I loved slipping away to a local internet cafe where I learned about music. The owner told me that if I helped him with the business, he’d pay me. I used the money I earned to buy a cheap violin. I had only enough cash for half: The kind owner told me I could pay the rest later.

My family didn’t approve. They forbade me to play, forcing me to dedicate myself to the church and our faith. So at 15 years old, I fled home and began to practice on the streets.

From then on, my music school has always been outside.

I played my way through my country’s collapse — on street corners and at rallies protesting the government. I played for pickpockets as they robbed people, so I would not be robbed or killed myself. And I played during the 2017 protests, where the national guard shot at me with rubber bullets, threw tear gas at me and destroyed my violin.

That year, the government threw me in jail and tortured me. What got me through that month behind bars was the belief that I would play once again.

And I did. But now I play here, in the United States, where I can play in freedom.

At first, everything about New York City scared me. When I got here, for example, I assumed the Bronx was much less safe than Caracas, because I had heard it was a dangerous area. But in the Bronx I found I could walk the streets safely before the sun came up. That is nothing like Caracas, where you can’t go out with brand-name clothes or smartphones without the risk of being mugged. Everything here is safer.

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The self-taught musician is living in New York because it is unsafe for him to return to Venezuela.Credit...Ashley Gilbertson for The New York Times

Still, I was intimidated — scared of being insignificant in a city of so much talent and so many cultures. But I’ve overcome my reluctance thanks to my violin, other musicians and the subway.

My favorite place to play is inside Penn Station, where the acoustics are so good. Travelers arrive there from so many different parts of the country, and I feel like I’m giving them a welcome to New York.

I also love Times Square. There, it’s as if I’m playing Madison Square Garden. People scream and applaud and dance like they’re at a concert. They make me feel like a star.

When I’m done playing I buy something to eat with the tips I receive. These tips are how I support myself, and people back home. When I play even for a short time I make good money because New Yorkers are so generous.

Two or three times, people have approached me with a $100 bill and offered words of encouragement. Many people give me $2 bills. I’ve learned they are for good luck — something I feel I’ve now found.

One experience I’ll never forget: It was 2 a.m. and a policeman approached to tell me I couldn’t play past 1. The crowd told him he had to let me continue; I insisted that he was just doing his job. Then the policeman told me he loved my music, but he didn’t have any cash to give me. So he gave me his police patch instead. It was a simple act, but for me, given my experiences with the Venezuelan police, it was invaluable.

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A patch given to Mr. Arteaga by a New York City Police officer.Credit...Ashley Gilbertson for The New York Times

I’ve also been blown away by the other musicians I’ve met in the streets of the city. One of the first was a singer named Marley. I was passing through 34th Street around midnight. There were people around, but she was singing with so much inspiration that her eyes were closed. It reminded me of when I was playing in the protests. I told her that her voice was very beautiful, and when she realized I didn’t speak English well, she spoke to me in Spanish. We talked and sang together that night, improvising.

The next day I bought an amplifier and began to play without fear, because I understood that here I could play with my eyes closed without worrying about the police harassing or attacking me. I got to know other musicians, and now sometimes five or six of us play together, like at a big concert. I love how open New Yorkers are — they never hesitate to show you if they like the music.

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Many New Yorkers can't stand Penn Station. Mr. Arteaga loves it.Credit...Ashley Gilbertson for The New York Times

Just as the streets of Venezuela were my music school, the streets of New York have been my freedom school. Here, day by day, I am learning its true meaning.

Wuilly Arteaga is a self-taught violinist and a Venezuelan dissident.

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