Street Ambassador

By Jorge Casuso

June 9 -- It’s shortly before 4 p.m., and Stephen Bradford is making sure the street performers on the Third Street Promenade are rotating from their spots.

As the Bayside District’s new venue manager in charge of monitoring the dozens of singers, drummers, cartoonists, dancers, magicians, escape artists, psychic cats and clowns, Bradford has quickly learned the importance of balancing the letter and spirit of the law.

“Do I have to move?” asks a bucket drummer surrounded by an assortment of plastic containers he bangs on with drumsticks. “There’s no one behind me.”

Sure enough. It’s a Thursday afternoon, and, unlike weekends, crowds are thin and the artists few and far between. But the law is the law, and it says artists must rotate every even hour to a spot at least 120 feet away.

“It’s a hassle, but it’s a hassle we all have to go through,” explains Bradford, who is dressed in a pullover, shorts and a floppy hat. “You have to follow the rules or anarchy ensues.”

A former film and video producer, Bradford – who took over the job in early May – is used to plying the temperaments of creative artists so they can meet a regimented schedule.

“This job is very much like a production manager, making sure the people are in the place they have to be at the time they have to be there,” Bradford says.

“You need to know what makes creative people tick and get them to do it,” he adds. “In a sense, that’s what I do here.”

A graduate of San Francisco State University with a degree in film, Bradford has made a living shooting movies and videos of all kinds – features, documentaries, commercials and industrial films.

In the 1990s, Bradford applied his skills to the lucrative field of litigation – preparing video stills, photography, graphics and animation that was presented as evidence in trials.

When the company he worked for began laying off workers, Bradford landed a job at the new Whole Foods store on Wilshire Boulevard.

“I worked there for nine months,” he says. “One of my passions is food.”

Bradford was hired by the Bayside District last month to replace Steele Smith, the former venue manager who moved to the Mexican coast in December. Bradford started just in time to wet his feet before the tide of visitors hits the Promenade this summer swelling the ranks of performance artists looking to make a buck.

“There hasn’t been a monitor since Steele left, and the performers have had to settle their disputes with each other,” says Bradford. “They had had enough of being on their own by the time I arrived.”

Disagreements often erupt when someone is too close (the law requires that performers maintain a distance of 40 feet between each other) or is playing too loud (the law sets maximum decibel levels depending on the day and time), Bradford says.

“There’s a tendency to think they’re the only ones following the rules,” he says. “It’s different when they know there’s someone out there that’s their champion. I encourage them and applaud.”

It’s shortly after 4 p.m., and a caricature artist is still drawing a subject 10 minutes after she should have rotated to a new spot. Bradford approaches with his clipboard and street map where with different colored inks, he plots the location each artist occupies at a certain time.

“You’ve got to move when you’re done,” he tells her adding that the ordinance includes set up and break down time in the two hour allotment.

“Yes, absolutely,” she responds.

As he marks the map and walks away towards the next performer, Bradford explains his decision.

“She was there an extra ten minutes,” he says. “On a day like today, I’m not going to tell her to move in the middle of the drawing. It’s the spirit as well as the letter of the law.

“It’s judgment calls, you can’t just go by the book,” Bradford says. “It’s a human thing. It’s managing all these people’s personalities.”

In some cases, the kind of performance may dictate the decision. If there are few artists on the street, Bradford might ask the bucket drummer to move, but allow the caricaturist to stay put with her easel, samples and paints.

“We get more complaints about the bucket drummer,” he says.

The complaints come from visitors as well as merchants, who must put up with two hours of banging or strumming or singing in front of their shops.

The City’s performance ordinance does not set quality standards, so anyone who pays for a $37-a-year permit fee can perform, as long as they follow the rules, Bradford explains.

“We have people who are talented who have a recording contract, and others who are just starting out and trying to get exposure,” he says. “The ordinance doesn’t make any distinctions.”