Norwegian composer Danielle Dahl’s first solo album, Loosening Orion’s Belt, was released by abstract tits, Dahl’s own label, on April 20, 2018. The record, a chamber work, seeks to deconstruct and examine different types of relationships–sexual or familial–through one’s own lens in just under forty-five minutes. It’s almost like therapy. While the title is borrowed from a verse in the book of Job (38:31), the apparent self-portrait takes on themes that are less-than-biblical: part of Dahl’s therapeutic process is participation in BDSM, explicitly and earnestly elicited in the second half of the record. The padded minimalism of Loosening Orion’s Belt lends itself to that feeling, as if it’s a letter Dahl writes to specific people with no intention of sending it. Though the instrumentation doesn’t necessarily imply minimalism, Dahl delicately layers psychoacoustic phenomena, a capella treble ensemble, synthesizers, Japanese instruments, solo voice, field recordings, and a commercial jingle to create a deliberate landscape of sound.
This layering warps the regular experience of listening to a record. Throughout the piece, it feels as if the sound is happening to the listener, rather than the listener choosing to hear it. Indicated in the tracklisting as two distinct sections (it seems pre- and post-discovery of BDSM as a coping method), Loosening Orion’s Belt begins by addressing parental shortcomings and imposed pressures. The first track, “Prelude/Centre of the flesh” introduces Dahl’s sonic weaving as a gentle crescendo of textures and slow-burning drones. They invite a chant-like opening melody with text taken from an Allen Ginsburg poem. On “Old Mother,” the third and longest track on the record, Dahl sings over field recordings taken in a jungle and synthesizers, attempting to convince herself that her mother-daughter relationship is not necessary. After the vocal line ceases, the field recordings continue for a few minutes, the familiar sounds of outside becoming background noise to the listener; when the gradual build of the field recordings abruptly stop, the sonic void, like the absence of a parent, is jarring and almost frightening.
Danielle Dahl
In contrast, the fearfulness of the first half of Loosening Orion’s Belt shifts to a feeling of bravery and consciousness in the second half. The Danielle Dahl of the latter-record songs, the BDSM Dahl, presents herself with musical meatiness and heft. During the climax (ha) of the record, “Utopian Love Song,” Dahl confidently describes the ways her lover is more of an emotional support than her parents. The sweet melody and text is accompanied by a simple, major chord progression and counter melody played on synthesizer. During the repetition, a gradual, electronic slide begins ascending. Eventually, the other layers fade out while the slide still ascends, up into stratospheric whistle tones.
The record closes with “Hands,” an antiphon to the first track. Its church music-like melody and accompaniment allows the listener to absorb the text, which describes a tryst between Dahl and her partner. “Hands” also acts as a summary of the previous twelve tracks: the duality of it reconciles the difficult themes presented in the record.
The listening experience of entire record is uncomfortable, sonically and in subject matter, but not in the way that we are accustomed to the occasional uneasiness of art music. It’s not disjointed, it’s not angular, it’s not thorny. Dahl’s exploration of psychoacoustic phenomena clutters the senses, and the deeply personal and vulnerable essay is socially illicit. The two ideas match each other and form a cohesive, abstract work. Loosening Orion’s Belt manages to be at once familiar and foreign, mysterious and accessible, taboo and wholesome.
