Introduction to Robert Dahm’s Piano Trio
Open a score by Australian composer Robert Dahm (born 1981) and you may be surprised to find that it’s hand-written. Most of us who still use notation these days have some kind of music processing software, resisting – or not – the seductions of the cut-and-paste function and the ability to have an ensemble of Daleks play the music back at the touch of a button. Dahm’s calligraphy is beautiful, but, more importantly, it demonstrates the amazing degree of care he lavishes on every detail. His musical language is of a highly refined, late-modernist variety: metrical structures are frequently highly complex, blurring any sense of a regular pulse; instrumental and vocal techniques are extended to create extraordinary expressive effects. But nothing is extraneous, and the calligraphic elegance is reflected in the clarity of Dahm’s aural imagination and design.
He is able to create striking effects with minimal means: in I watched you as you disappeared, Orpheus’ tragic loss if Euridice at the brink of Hades is depicted by a solo bass clarinet moving from frenetic angularity, with ‘barked’ syllables from Rilke’s Sonnets to Orpheus integrated into the line, to an exhausted, neutral pulse. In Dahm’s setting of lines from Hölderlin’s Mnemosyne, the singer must move, often mid-word, between conventional vocal production and Sprechstimme, much closer to spoken sound. This creates polyphony within the vocal line which is enhanced by the tracery of piano accompaniment.
Dahm, who has emerged as a brilliant and distinct new voice since 2005, naturally admires such contemporaries as Richard Barrett, James Dillon and Liza Lim, and has noted with approval Arvo Pärt’s ability to create music out of silence. But he describes a breakthrough moment with his discovery the music of Guillaume de Machaut, the greatest composer of the 14th century, who, reflecting a belief in divine design, used mathematical ratios between superimposed lines of music to create unprecedentedly sophisticated textures above a slow-moving, repeated plainchant melody.
Several of these musical concerns are immediately obvious in Dahm’s short Piano Trio of 2008. Big chords, ricocheting between the piano’s bass and treble, mask the ghostly appearance of the violin and cello (at the start both of these instruments are muted, playing as softly as possible, with light bow-pressure above the fingerboard to reduce the richness of overtones normally produced – the first of numerous instances of the subtle use of timbre). At one point, as in Machaut’s work, one line (here the cello) moves at a much slower rate than the other two instruments’; elsewhere the strings are treated as a texture to balance the piano. And the work’s climax – a loud, one beat texture of several superimposed metrical divisions gives way, breathtakingly, to a sudden and profound silence.
Gordon Kerry © 2010
This performance is by the Freshwater Trio, an ensemble based in Melbourne, Australia (www.freshwatertrio.com) and is used by generous
