From choir to solo singing
The applause for the previous student has barely died down when Tulin, 14, steps onto the stage at Steinway Hall. It is 15 June 2025, the day of the Apolline Fest.
For those of us who have been following her for three and a half years, this is no trivial matter. It's a real leap of faith. Tulin has decided to accompany herself on the piano for the very first time.
The false start (or the art of bouncing back)
She settles down, focused. Silence falls over the room. She places her hands on the keyboard to begin Ariana Grande's Hampstead... and surprise. An organ sound, left over from the previous student's settings, resonates instead of the expected piano.
There is a moment of uncertainty. The audience holds its breath. Will this hiccup throw her off balance? A teacher quickly intervenes to restore the correct setting. Tulin takes a breath, refocuses, and starts again. This time with the right sound.
Far from spoiling the moment, this minor incident makes what follows even more beautiful: she didn't give up.
From the choir to the "I"
Before Apolline, Tulin had "always sung", as she simply puts it, but often hidden in the comfort of a choir. Moving from the choir to the solo microphone means accepting that you are no longer just one voice among many. It means embracing your own voice.
In the hall, the silence is now total, attentive.
Yet inside, it's a storm. Tulin confided in us before going on stage: "It's stressful and I'm afraid of messing up, but it's not too bad either. " She has her little rituals to help her cope: drinking lots of water, concentrating. She knows that stage fright is a somewhat clingy companion: "It stays with me for most of the song, but normally it goes well."
Liberation
And indeed, it's going well. Better than well.
On stage, Tulin seems calm. She sings what she loves – a pop repertoire she listens to on repeat, from Billie Eilish to Ariana Grande. She's not defending a school exercise, she's sharing a moment of pleasure.
Then comes the last note. Tulin lifts her hands from the keyboard and stands up.
At that precise moment, there is no longer any doubt. The entire room bursts into applause and cheers. But what we remember most is her face. That broad, relieved smile says more than any speech could. She did it.
Final word
Today, with the benefit of hindsight, Tulin has a message for those who are still hesitating to take the plunge:
"In any case, everything they've worked for will be fine. People in the audience often don't see that we're stressed, they just hear our voices, and that's what matters most."
Trust in your work, accept the unexpected (even a piano tuned like an organ!) and savour the moment. That's exactly what Apolline is all about.
Want to experience this moment with us? Watch her performance on stage at Apolline Fest 2025 by clicking here.