Everyone has mentors and teachers.  People who graceful walk (or in some cases dance) through your life leaving ribbons of wisdom and then departing on their merry way.  Some stay with you for years and evolve with you, some show up on a tuesday and leave by mid-afternoon.  The time they share with you is insignificant to the lessons they teach.  They don’t lecture as parents or instructors do, all the lessons are seen in their action — in their way.

Dominique Gabella was one of those teachers for me, and she might not know it.  During my time as a volunteer director for Seeds of Compassion, I was always a little frazzled.  We were building a movement from scratch — we never had enough money and never enough time.   A project that started as a small three day conference took up momentum and transformed into concerts, stadium events, and five days of activities.  We were asking people to donate their talents as volunteers and trying to use everyone’s amazing skills to capacity.  Needless to say, I was stressed, and often falling into a less than compassionate mindset.

Enter Dominique.

Dominique joined the Seeds of Compassion volunteer team early on.  An accomplished dancer and the expertise of a woman who had run her own company for years wrapped in beautiful long hair and a European disposition.  I came across hundreds of amazing volunteers during my work, but Dominique was uniquely helpful to me.   She would walk right across a buzzing room, look me in the eye, and ask with quiet simplicity — “how can i help you?” At moments it gave me such relief I could cry.  She came in several days a week, and did whatever needed to be done without pretense.  The woman probably should have been doing my job since she was a businesswoman who had run a company for years with mostly volunteers — her skills were so far above the work she would do for me.  She organized my volunteer forms, answered emails I couldn’t get to, researched random tasks I had promised to others but had not yet begun.  Honestly, it was grunt work.

But she would smile, take the project from my hands, and glide across the room to return later with a perfect task completed.  Never a complaint.  Never a critique.  Never a drop of ego.  She went on to run one of our biggest campaign — What Does Compassion Look Like.  Working with students and teachers and hundreds of art pieces.  She would arrive early in the morning to set up the artwork, return late in the night to take it all down.  She held each piece like treasure — delicate and golden.

Recounting her help to the project, is not what made her so special.  First, it is no secret that I love to dance.  In fact, in my next life — I’ll devote myself to it.   So, to just have a professional dancer around was wonderful.  The dance lives throughout a dancer’s entire body –  just watch Dominique pick up a pencil or glide across a room.  She is graceful and strong, and to me, that is a deadly combination.  Sometimes, late in the afternoon, when just a few of us were left, she would tell amazing stories of Switzerland or a past show she had done, or her current project she was working on, and just hearing her talk makes you feel like more of an artist.

Second, she was the embodiment of compassion.  She was not always treated with care.  We were all racing with high expectation and she was given several difficult challenges and high maintenance clients — but she always calm, focused, and joyful.  I don’t know how she did it.  I guess that is why I liked having her around.  You couldn’t help but slow down — her personality emanated the energy — “you are going to be fine”  “we are doing the best we can”  “you know this can actually be fun”.  I wanted so desperately to have that kind of presence in my leadership and management (I think the use of the word “desperately” proves I have not yet mastered the skill). I attribute her style to her European upbringing or a life in the theater, but also to her individual soul.

I haven’t seen her much since our project ended, but got an email this morning with a link to an article about her from KUOW about “Old Masters”.   How lucky we are to have teachers and friends who dance into our lives when they are so needed — making us better just by their presence.

Listen to Dominique’s story and look at some of the amazing photos in the slideshow.

Dominique Gabella, Dancer

Friday, April 10, 2009

Dominique Gabella can’t imagine her world without dance. She said that is “like silk; it’s an ingredient of my life.” Gabella has been a professional dancer for more than 40 years. Unfortunately, the older she gets, the less her body is able to cooperate with her creative spirit. Today we continue our weekly series “Old Masters.” It’s about how art shapes artists, and how age influences their art. KUOW’s Marcie Sillman introduces us to a woman who says age won’t keep her from the artform she loves.

• Slideshow of Photos
• Interview  – Real Audio and MP3
• Next Stage Dance Theater
  

Cheers to the dancer in all of us.