Photo by Alexis Magill

Liquid Courage
Gizel Vernier Takes a Bite Out of the Apple

By David Tanner

Who would’ve thought the idea of performing at the mall, which used to conjure images of Britney, shakin’ her mall-chic-booty to pre-recorded music in front of Santa’s workshop, might give way to a new idea: rocking the Apple store. 

But that’s just the tangential type of thinking that Gizel Vernier and her label, Liquid Shield, brought to the map of mall milieu in Miami. Picture the Apple store’s characteristic queue, except with the labyrinth of lines twisting into a stage. There stands Vernier, commanding the crowd with her style that combines pop, rhythm and blues, hip-hop andmusical theater.

It was on July 17 that Vernier performed for the largest crowd the Apple store has seen since the 32 megabyte iPhone was released.  Nervous scowls on their faces, geeks bumped elbows with hip-hopers while trying to push through the crowd blocking racks of software and printer cables.  No amount of nerd vitriol would thwart the vibe, however, as even apple store “geniuses” found a groove, bouncing to the beat while ringing up the errant Mac mind-slave. With jubilant, nay, giddy enthusiasm the gathered assemblage, milled from music fans, magnet school friends, and those lured in by the sound seeping into their shopping narcosis as they perused a now “upscale” Dadeland mall, watched attentively. 

Vernier opened the set with minimal accompaniment: simply a pianist and some standard tunes, “The Light in the Piazza” by Adam Guettel, “Astonishing” from the musical Little Women, and “No Good Deed” from the musical Wicked. Then, as the applause died down, the band carved the next notch into the doorframe: Comprised of friends from Coral Reef High, an arts magnet school in South Dade, she and her constantly evolving backing band started bangin’ and never missed a beat. 

Vernier, classically trained in voice and musical theater, is an astonishing talent; for the performance, the group also put together a list of originals that they performed in medley fashion.  Not even a tweeky alarm sounding off during the show threw the performance off kilter, thanks in part to a speedy staffer who, at the risk of cargo-shorted skinned knees, threw himself under a display table to silence the intrusion. 

It was surrounding that performance, however, that Kendall-based Liquid Shield studios became mired in misfortune: what should have been a time of celebration was marred by a dose of real life. In the days leading up to the Apple store show, producer and Vernier’s high school friend Travis Wright unceremoniously lost his day job, Gizel was the victim of a home invasion, and the night of the after-party barbecue, head of Liquid Shield Nick Fury’s, car was broken into. It was an especially bitter pill that the hard drive containing years of production and Vernier’s press kit were the only items not recovered by police. 

But life at Liquid Shield went on undaunted, and in the face of it all everyone stayed positive.  The Shield crew continued to work around the clock, in shifts.  Members took turns crashing on the sofa, perhaps awakening to Master Fury’s famous pancake breakfast, flagons of Kool-Aid and platters of Oreo’s (Wright’s favorite), or what Vernier calls “London Tea.”  Treading gingerly through a minefield of smack-talk, paramilitary press pass parked firmly in hand, Vernier’s story unfolded.

Twenty-year-old Gizel Vernier, an exciting, bubbly powder keg of energy, met Jovan Figueroa at a barbershop where he works for a friend.  She invited him and the rest of the staff to a Feb. 13 performance of “Titanic the Musical” at Miami’s New World School of the Arts.

“Of course nobody showed,” Vernier said. 

But it wasn’t long before Figueroa heard Vernier singing an Alicia Keys cover. He was impressed. She sang Figueroa an original song called “I Know What I Know,” that she and Travis had been toying with. 

“I knew immediately that I had to take her to see Nick,” said Figueroa, who is now her manager. That was in April, and since then, Figueroa, Wright and Fury have teamed up and produced a list of tracks including the song that caught Figueroa’s attention, “I Know What I Know,” a strong, synth-pop track called “Only One,” the sparse theater-style piano piece, “In My Arms,” the pop club banga’ “Mr. Magoo” and others. 

The Apple show just recently fell into their laps through some serious hard work and a strange series of events.

“Normally an artist needs to already be registered with iTunes to get a show at Apple,” Figueroa said. “I was introduced to Joe Martinez, the manager of the store, and he was so impressed with Gizel that he fought for permission to let her perform.”

With only two weeks to prepare, each day Gizel spent three hours practicing with the band, an hour at vocal practice and two hours on choreography.

“We got a lot of work done in a short amount of time. Sometimes I can’t believe we pulled it off,” Vernier said. “I had to make sure the band was tight, the backup singers were on key, and the dancers were ready … I didn’t get to focus on my performance until the last minute.”

That kind of dedication makes Vernier stand out among her peers, but it’s also problematic. Vernier is hard on herself - a perfectionist. (In middle school, a ‘B’ brought tears to her eyes.) 

However, that dedication will likely pay off: The performance may have already put Vernier on the fast track to getting her music on iTunes, a process that normally requires a lot more work, and a lot more patience. 

“I felt relieved that the show went well technically, but later when I saw the video I felt like I could have done better,” Vernier said, as Figueroa cut in.

“In the studio she always wants to redo her vocals even though we’re usually happy with her first takes,” Figueroa said.

Fury is also amazed at Vernier’s level of motivation, considering her age. “She also knows when she screws up, which is good for us as producers,” he said.

As so often, with a little strength, possibility can arise from tragedy, Vernier’s drive stems from an emotional childhood. Her mother came from a strict family where singing or acting was frowned upon. She died when Vernier was 14 from complications due to multiple sclerosis.

She moved in with her father, a talented actor who devoted his life to his children instead of following his own dreams of stardom. He has only recently again pursued acting.

“I’ve always told myself that I would fight for what I want,” Vernier said. “I think that’s why people come up to me after a performance and tell me that my singing moves them emotionally … of course that makes me want to keep trying even harder.”

Find out more about Gizel Vernier at shesamovie.blogspot.com

Vernier will perform at 6 p.m., on Saturday, Aug. 8 at the Apple Store at The Falls, 8888 S.W. 136th St., Miami.

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