Winner
Ming-Li Sabina Wolfe, 16, from Brooklyn, N.Y., selected the obituary “Astrud Gilberto, 83, Dies; Shot to Fame With ‘The Girl From Ipanema’” and wrote:
In 1951, my grandfather’s family moved from China to Brazil. He left after one year to study in the U.S., but his parents stayed until 1975. When “Getz/Gilberto” was released, my great-grandparents mailed the record to my grandfather, which he played while writing love notes to his girlfriend — my future grandmother.
When Gilberto released “The Astrud Gilberto Album,” his parents sent it again, but this time to my married grandparents’ home in Connecticut. From then on, their Sundays were spent cleaning to “Corcovado” and “Dindi.”
This summer, 58 years later and two years since my grandfather’s death, my grandmother came to visit my mom and me. Their record player had sat in our closet for decades, but when she arrived, we dusted it off. She sat and played those records on repeat. Like Farber mentioned, Gilberto can “evoke images of summers imagined or lost.”
The other night, my grandmother, mother and I were walking in the East Village when we heard the familiar chords of “Agua de Beber.” I realized then that music is transient, not singularly tied to lonely moments next to a record player or cool summer nights surrounded by family. Through art, the living and the dead are lost in a dance. My ancestors speak to me through the art of a dead singer, while I repeat their mistakes.
Lately, I’ve been wondering, “What is a life’s work?” It’s one that keeps people alive and Gilberto has raised three generations.