A concert even closer to my heart

Last Saturday I saw a concert on a grand scale. Last night I was on my way to something a little smaller and more intimate - although as I drove over Saddleworth moor the newscaster on Radio 4 did say "we're just over an hour away from one of the biggest music festivals in the world" and I thought - blimey! The BBC are coming to Holme Valley Music Centre's evening of guitar music!

But of course they were talking about the first night of the Proms, whereas my destination was slightly less high-blown but much more important. After ten years of spending at least part of Saturday morning (and more recently, by virtue of helping out with junior and intermediate classes as well as still being part of the senior group, virtually ALL of Saturday morning) at guitar class, my elder daughter was bowing out of Music Centre concerts with the keynote solo performance of the night.

I arrived early as usual and secured a seat with a good view. The concert got off to a slightly late start with the senior guitars performing four pieces followed by a series of solos from the more junior members of the group. Watching these youngsters - ranging in age from 8 to about 12, some of them doing their first solo - reminded me of concerts past as Nat slowly gained in both confidence and ability. Some of tonight's young 'uns showed great promise, either being note perfect or playing with good expression considering their age and experience. Others missed the odd note and played on with wry grins or shakes of heads, mentally beating themselves up for not being at their best. But all enjoyed resounding rounds of applause. This was, after all, a friendly audience of family and locals, many of whom probably went through similar ordeals as children. There is a strong vein of musical appreciation and participation in the Holme Valley, and the important thing was the taking part and the wish to do one's bit to entertain.

After the solos and four more group pieces, this time from the junior guitars, we had an interval. Time for a narsecappatee and a piece of cake. There were also raffle tickets on sale. At £1 a strip I normally would have bought only one strip, but my little voice was quite insistent that I should buy two, so for once I listened to it and forked out my £2. The raffle was drawn at the end of the interval, before the second half of the show, and the very first ticket out of the draw was the first number on my SECOND strip. Thank you very much, little voice, for that rather nice bottle of Rioja!

Then it was time to settle back down to hear the intermediate guitars perform their set. By the time they'd finished my palms were becoming quite sweaty with referred stress on Nat's behalf. I took a few deep breaths. Three or four more solos and finally it was Nat's turn. She enduredjoyed a rather lengthy intro from her guitar tutor and then began to play.

She'd left her selection of music until the last minute, so the programme read simply: "Solo" but in the event she elected to play her tutor's (by now actually more colleague than teacher) favourite: Julia Florida - Barcarola by Agustin Barrios - also, it has to be said, a firm family favourite. As this was the last solo of the evening and many in the audience were either thinking they'd "heard it all before" or preparing to leave, the noise level in the room was quite high at the beginning. But as the strains of her beautiful guitar playing drifted across the hall a ripple of silence travelled back through the crowd until everyone was listening in rapt attention and you could have heard a pin drop.

When the last note died away the vacuum left by the music was filled with the most thunderous round of applause of the entire evening. I thought I was going to burst with love and pride, but I couldn't even join in with the clapping - both hands were firmly clamped around Nikki's camera with which I'd recorded Nat's whole performance! Wonderful, wonderful stuff and a fine end to her long years with the Music Centre.

After taking a brief bow she was presented with her "long service award" for sticking with her classes right through junior, intermediate and senior guitars and even during her 'A' levels, and also with a special present in recognition of all her hard work on Saturday mornings since passing her Grade 8. I wonder if her tutor knows how close she came to giving it all up? Behind tonight's virtuoso performance were the memories of years during which she plugged away playing the second or third part, the boring part that no-one notices but which is essential to the overall sound of the performance, when she was more than capable of playing the lead. More able, usually, than the person playing it, who was chosen out of seniority, or because it was their turn. When playing in a group, everyone has to be given a chance to shine, but it always seemed as though Natalie's potential was passed over more often than most.

Even though she came close to giving up out of sheer frustration and exasperation at the weeks upon weeks of playing a single note for a performance where the lead player didn't practice properly or didn't turn up, she stuck with it, showing maturity, dedication and commitment. I think too that she realised how important it is to do something because it has personal meaning. That the benefit you glean from an activity can be just for yourself, for your own satisfaction. It doesn't necessarily have to be public.

So she came through those years where her light was hidden and reached a point where her excellence was recognised and she had her chance to shine. Tonight was the pinnacle where she reaped the rewards of all her hard work and long hours of practice, and she did much more than shine. She blazed.