At the last NVSO concert in May, Gabrielle won a hand made violin. It was a big deal and landed in several papers in the area. This all led to an interview for a magazine article, which she handled like a pro. But a magazine article requires photos, so a few days later she was sent to Mike Spinelli for a few shots. (He's photographed Bob Hope, The Blue Angles, and Gabrielle. What's left? OK, all kidding aside, he's fabulous and I can't recommend him enough.) She also handled that like a complete pro.
But while all of this started with something she did (winning a competition), the most amazing thing about her was what she didn't do that day.
On the day of the competition we arrived with plenty of time to head in unrushed, for the girls to set up, chat with fellow competitors, and to warm up for the audition. A piece from Suzuki book 4 was suggested, with the option of performing something else that demonstrated a variety of style and technique. Since Gabrielle was in Suzuki book 7 at the time she opted to play bits and pieces from LaFolia. (I found it for you here. It isn't Gabrielle, but she plays just as well - from memory. [I warned you this was a bragging post, right?])
So there are all the other competitors warming up with their book 4 piece, everyone getting along well, helping each other out, feeling pretty good about what they were doing and how they were sounding. As Gabrielle's time slot was getting closer I asked her, "Are you going to warm up?" "No, I don't need to." Not snotty or anything, just rather matter of fact. I asked her again a few minutes later, got the same response, and decided to drop it.
She went in, did her thing, and we left. But it wasn't until we were back at home for a quick break in between audition and concert that it hit me.
So when it was just the two of us I asked her . . .
"Why didn't you warm up, really?"
"Mom, I would have destroyed them all right then and there."
She saw the atmosphere in the room. She saw the excitement. She saw the camaraderie. She saw the confidence. She saw what would happen if she unloaded her piece in the warm-up room. And she chose her fellow musicians over herself.
There's no denying that winning the competition was fabulous and it's subsequent attention a little exciting. But the biggest blessing was the behind-the-scenes/precious-few-will-ever-know decision of my 14-year old Rosebud.
And THAT's why I'm so proud of her.
OK, brag session over.
p.s. The girls have quartet rehearsal every week, so each Monday night after dinner I take them to practice.
Two weeks ago we load up, are half way to the rehearsal location when Gabrielle says, quietly from the back seat,
"I forgot my shoes."
Competitions, winning presentations, articles, interviews, photo shoots?
Just a little reality check!