Denton, 11.19.2025

For this month's Joan of Bark Presents at Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios, curator Sarah Ruth Alexander added a new wrinkle, driven by her love of poetry (dating back to childhood exposure to Carl Sandberg's "Fog" -- a fave of mine back when too). In between the musical performances, this evening's program featured five readers declaiming poetry (by others, or their own) -- an inspired choice that changed the rhythm and flow of the evening in a good way, I think. 

Composer Kory Reeder read a poem from a favorite collection, then Sarah Ruth and Melanie Little Smith played an improvised set with a graceful ebb and flow and an elegiac tone, starting with a somber theme on dual harmoniums. The musicians donned veils and faced away from the audience as they moved through episodes of electronically sampled vocals, electronic effects and percussion, wood flutes and vocal interjections that floated on the music.

At one point, Smith repeated a plaintive "Where are you?" which Alexander countered with screams before they returned to the harmonium theme. Because I live under a rock in Fort Worth, it was only later that I learned that Smith's husband and collaborator Des Smith -- their mural work adorns several locations in Denton -- passed in August. That knowledge made Suzanne Terry's reading of an original poem about surviving cancer (which followed Smith and Alexander's set) particularly poignant. Smith is an artist of singular intelligence who is unafraid to express powerful emotions onstage. 

Veronica Anne Salinas is a deep listener and sound artist currently based in Marfa, where she's the Chinati Foundation's 2025 Land Management Fellow, and her performance incorporated field recordings, sound processing, and the acoustics of the greatly improved Rubber Room to create an immersive environment that was conducive to slow breathing and contemplation. The soundscape she created evoked the power of winds or oceans, unfolding slowly until she introduced an element of pulse, culminating in a cleansing crescendo. A compelling and dynamic experience that also lowered my blood pressure. 

Featured reader Tammy Melody Gomez gave a performance that combined skillfully crafted imagery with forceful delivery, drawing on a large back catalog of material to create a statement that was thoroughly of the moment, emotive and cathartic, her cadence and inflection driving with the force of a runaway locomotive (or a punk band on a particularly good night). Gomez hosts Second Sunday Spoken Word at Fort Worth's Arts Fifth Avenue and in that setting, where she creates a welcoming space for writers to present work and receive feedback, her own performances can be somewhat muted. Here, it was invigorating to hear her in full flight, feeding on the energy from an appreciative crowd as she performed her verbal exorcism. 

I missed the first performance by Tammy's Bandinha at the Grackle Art Gallery in Fort Worth, but I was fascinated by the lineup. Violinist Tamara Cauble Brown's CV includes stints with Telegraph Canyon, Polyphonic Spree, and Clint Niosi, but I never really envisioned her as a free improviser. Likewise pianist-vocalist Paul Slavens, whose own work, solo and with Ten Hands, is primarily geared toward songcraft (although he's acquitted himself well in improv lottery situations I've witnessed). 

On the other hand, bassist Aaron Gonzalez (who'd earlier intoned some of his own poetry, marked by his characteristic quirkily humorous wordplay, and a heartfelt tribute to Daron Beck) brought a breadth and depth of improv experience to the table, and helped ground and channel the group's flow. Drummer Eddie Dunlap, veteran of Master Cylinder, Mondo Drummers, years in the Jubilee Theatre pit band, Rage Out Arkestra, and now Hijazz Ensemble, is a special musician who elevates any ensemble he performs with. 

Together, the four are clearly feeling their way, but everyone involved is listening and leaving space, responding to what the others play and not trying to bogart the conversation. The first couple of numbers felt tentative, but the players had the discernment to end them at a sensible point, rather than meandering. A burst of vocal gibberish from Gonzalez prompted a Dada-esque explosion, with vocal hijinks all around. The last piece was the best, replete with hints of ideas to be developed in the future. There's a freshness to this musical conversation that brims with promise. I look forward to hearing how it develops.

That left it for your humble chronicler o' events to close things out with some Fort Worth bragging and some new scrawl I penned for Sarah Ruth when she extended the invitation. This year's Joan of Bark Fest takes place on Saturday, December 13, and includes a sound walk along with a stacked bill. Don't you dare miss it.