Ooooooh, big day in the tiny town.
Or at least, big day for my little chickens.
All squeaky clean and garbed in concert black, walking two long blocks from the B&B where we’re staying, then across the piazza, then two more long blocks up to Santa Chiara.
Nervous and joyful energy. They knew they were well prepared and that the performances would be strong and so were able to relax.
All the students here at the festival have an opportunity to perform at public events and we’ve attended concerts most afternoons and evenings, some here in Casalmaggiore, others in neighbouring towns and villages.
Some of these attendees, I’ve learned, are of such a level of excellence they already have managers back in their home country.
Others have mothers.
An early arrival in the Aula Magna, the big hall, to tune instruments and get into ‘the zone.’
You’ll please indulge my iPhone photos. I dutifully videocam’d with one hand and attempted to snap with the other. A day for memories, not photographic excellence.
The first movement of a piano trio by Haydn. Blurred in the background is the page turner, a critical job, one I nervously held two nights ago.
Oh, a mother’s dream to see her two little chicks up on stage. No arguing, no bickering, just lovely tuneful music.
They played the third movement of the same trio. For some reason the organizers swapped out the cello parts, likely as the Princess is again playing in a large cello ensemble in a couple of nights, and they needed to share the fun!
And here, a Beethoven trio, with a cellist from Shanghai. In the small world department, this girl is taught by the mother of the Princess’s teacher. Got that? Jeuwen, also 12, is very sweet and arrived with her father. She and Liliana have gotten on very well, despite the language barrier. It’s very sweet to see them giggling and gesticulating together.
Well, whew! Wasn’t that fun!
And now, off to the ‘watermelon party’ in the cortile, the courtyard downstairs.
These are precious moments indeed. The other day I remarked as we ambled along the Po River, “Sometimes I feel like I am the luckiest person in the world.”
Homeboy replied, “Oh, Mummy. You always say that.”
I guess I do.
The Country Mice 