If facing your fears and overcoming trauma had a soundtrack, it would be a recording of bassoonist Joy Guidry and trombonist Kalia Vandever’s double-billed performance last month at National Sawdust. They complemented each other perfectly, with Guidry giving audience members a musical interpretation of what it feels like to overcome racial oppression and self-doubt followed by Kalia’s ethereal trombone improvisations that carefully articulated fragments of her past.

Poet Phillip B. Williams warmed up the audience before the two instrumentalists came on stage by reciting a series of poems from his latest book Mutiny. Williams brought listeners to chills reciting his sonnet "Mushmouf's Maybe-Crown."

“My madness my master, many mistake my mood manhandling my mode.” 

Commanding the room with the articulation of a West African griot, he used alliteration to describe the trials of instability and self-destructive habits. The poem aligns with his book’s title, as sabotage can be sourced from one’s own madness. Williams’ compositions primed the audience for an exploration of the black queer experience to which Guidry followed up brilliantly with their electrifying performance.

It was exhilarating to experience such a full range of emotions from Guidry’s production. Their music moved from eerie frequencies harmonized with “parseltongue-like” whispers, to legato classical bassoon sounds reminiscent of Ravel’s Bolero, to comedic critiques of America’s racially oppressive past. Joined by electronic musician Scott Li, Guidry began with a soft, spacy soundscape layered under an audio clip of a voice questioning Guidry’s methods of survival with so many odds stacked against them.

Li played low synth melodies and deep, vibrating bass sounds as Guidry went from playing a deeply introspective bassoon passage to screeching into the microphone, indicating a yearning to express their natural self, even if it doesn’t align with traditional standards of beauty and pleasure. Guidry’s rejection of long-established customs continued in their performance as they played an audio clip of a prominent African-American pastor saying, 

“If God wanted to judge America, he wouldn’t need the Supreme Court system. If he wanted to judge America because of sin, he would judge me in 88, at the Freaknik in Atlanta.”

Guidry offered us a hilarious rejection of the judgmental “old-time” southern baptist way that afflicted them while growing up in Houston. At the end of Guidry’s performance, they expressed how difficult it was being Black and queer in the South, which required them to take space from their hometown. That space is a double-edged sword, as Guidry misses family, especially their brother, but also needs to heal from an area that has been racist and homophobic towards them. 

Kalia Vandever graced the stage immediately following Guidry and Li’s intimate musical offering. “What do I make of a face that holds no place in my memory? Who mothered me?” Vandever  repeated as she sat with her trombone in the center of an elegant arrangement of white flowers layered on top of a sheer fabric. The display formed a semicircle around her chair and her foot pedals, which she used to loop and distort the sounds of her instrument. Improvisation was key to her performance, as Vandever is an artist who plays what she feels, when she feels. 

Her latest album, We Fell In Turn, was completely improvised and recorded in an upstate New York cabin with the help of her producer and engineer Lee Meadvin. “Think of a food from your childhood” was one of the several prompts Meadvin used to help her draw inspiration for the improvisations. In response to this particular prompt, Vandever thought of a mochi cake her mother used to make, which led her down a path of more hushed recollections from childhood. 

Vandever believes, “the things we are meant to forget, we hold them in our bodies.” As she performed cuts from the album, her gracefully distorted trombone sounds both mourned versions of her former self and also voiced an excitement for newfound freedom. Vandever’s legato playing also gave listeners space to consider fragments of their own past. She concluded her set fittingly with “Unfaltering,” the final song on We Fell In Turn. The piece began with a looped four note pattern that Vandever wove together with an improvised trombone melody. Her crystal clear tone was on full display as she held long whole notes with light vibrato interwoven between the phrases of her solo. Captivating the audience with musical interpretations of her childhood memories, Vandever received a resounding and well-deserved standing ovation when she finished her performance.

About Jordan Carter

Jordan W. Carter is a revolutionary emcee, multi-percussionist, and music educator hailing from Southwest Atlanta. He is the son of Valerie and Derrick Carter as well as the brother of Nia Carter, Derrick Carter Jr., and the late Sherita Carter. Jordan makes music to express himself creatively, put on for his hometown, and to help others find God in their own uniqueness. His musical production often incorporates 808s, electric piano, and vibraphone as homage to his jazz, southern marching band, and classical background. Jordan’s majestic blend of these styles inspire an uninhibited love for all people. He currently lives in Brooklyn, NY with his longtime partner, Priya, and their two dogs BiBi and Cheeni.