The Salón At The Parlour
March 23, 2024
The Salón at the Parlour drew a crowd of musicians, painters, writers, yoga instructors and creatives interested in seeing what might happen when art and community come together for a few hours on a Saturday morning.
On this chilly, bright day, about forty such kindred spirits gathered in a midtown backyard garden. There was an air of playful unpredictability. Chatter and laughter, sleepy smiles and long hugs all mingled amid the steam rising from hot Origin coffee. A barista served up endless refills in mismatched mugs.
The salon is held at the private home of married Tulsa artists Trueson and Zia Daugherty. They’ve organized recurring art-focused events for the past year, with growing success. Zia welcomed guests at the gate while Trueson stood near the glass-door entrance to their eccentric, bohemian house, nicknamed The Parlour. They’ve made the space work as both a cozy hub and an art gallery.
In the center of the living room, between an antique harpsichord and a piano, sits a soapbox—about a foot high of solid, light-colored wood. But for the purposes of the salon, the box is a stage. After about 40 minutes of everybody mingling and settling in, Trueson stepped up to explain the rules of the gathering.
First rule is, you must stand on the box. “No one is too good for the box,” Trueson said. The box is a place to experiment: share your latest poem, sing a ditty, play an instrument, dance, show us your latest painting and tell us about the colors and shapes your mind couldn’t let go of.
There is a three-minute limit for you to “do your bit,” Trueson said. He held an hourglass to keep time. If you want to share, simply get up, ring the bell on the piano and start. As Hemingway might have said if he’d been there, there is nothing to creativity: all you do is stand up on the soapbox and bleed.
Our focused energy in the present moment became the blank canvas upon which Trueson and Zia invited Tulsa’s artists to unfurl their art—three minutes at a time. Later, I would think back on each of the artists taking their turn on the box. Some were well-known on the local creative scene, while others were newcomers. Around each turn, I heard the shushing of whispers, inspired conversations, shared laughter.