The Pied Piper of New York by Amanda Hou
From Danny Boy to Rhapsody in Blue, Steve “The Whistler” Herbst has been stretching people’s imagination of whistling for decades. Bordering between the definitions of an artist and an oddity, the whistler is living to bring a lost art back to people’s awareness.
It was like coming out of the desert after 40 years and finding my tribe. Usually people don’t know anybody else who is serious about what I do. That is why I call it a loner’s art. There’s no place to go generally where you can learn how to get better.
Whistling is a loner’s art. It’s a lost art and a loner’s art. It’s like any musical instrument. You know, you can’t just pick it up and do it. It takes a lot of practice. I started when I was seven years old really practicing whistling as a serious instrument. I used to whistle everywhere I went. You know, walking to school, walking home, and when I got home, I’d go in my bedroom, close the bedroom door, and put on an album. And I would mimic all of the instruments that I heard.
I was a singing member of the University of Pennsylvania Glee Club. The director of our glee club Bruce Montgomery used to do some whistling to simulate flutes. And we were doing this concert one day and Bruce came up dry. And that was really the turning point because prior to that I had been like a “closet whistler” not because I thought it was something to be ashamed of. I just didn’t think it could be interesting to anybody else. It was just my thing. After the concert, I went up to Bruce and I said, “You know I can do that for you if you want.” He said, “It’s all yours.”
I was whistling on the street one day, minding my own business, and a woman came up to me and said if she had a 200 pound man with her, she would punch me right in the face. Because she hated what, she just found it too intrusive. I can tell you that on the other hand I’ve had people follow me for blocks like I was the pied piper and they’d catch up to me at a stop sign and said, “what was that you were whistling?”
I’ve been in commercials. I’ve appeared at Carnegie Halls, Avery Fisher Hall. But you don’t have enough of those happening in the course of a year to live off of. It used to be a greater source of frustration. You know, I’ve kind of…I’ve got used to it. It’s like, “that’s the way it is.”
I’m now doing something that I have a passion for. You know you need to have a passion for what you do. It gives me a chance to express myself. If I weren’t able to sing or whistle, it would be a big void. It would be tragic. I certainly hope that I’m never too old to be able to whistle. Hopefully I never will.
Born into a musical family and inspired by his father who played multiple instruments, Steve began whistling and simulating the oboes and flutes from “Peter and the Wolf” by Prokofiev at the age of 7. At the time, whistling was just a private thing he enjoyed on his own – not until college where he filled in for a whistling performance and blew everyone away. He went on to compete in the International Whistlers Competition and was crowned the grand champion in 2002.
For the 68-year-old New Yorker, whistling is a way to entertain and express himself. Around the mid-20 century, in what Steve referred to as the golden age of whistling, whistlers used to be the center of entertaining industry and travel with the big bands. But today, his pursuit of whistling as a serious art form is often met little recognition or even ridicule.
In the past, Steve has invested thousands of dollars making his own CD, website and preparing for whistling competitions. As much as he would love work as a full-time whistler, it’s almost impossible to make a living out of whistling alone. He has learned to keep a balance. It used to be one between whistling and his job in an advertising company. It has now become one between whistling and his career as a social worker.
