Michael Torke: Sessions, 3 A.M.
Ecstatic Records
The New York Times has called American composer Michael Torke (b. 1961) “a master orchestrator whose shimmering timbral palette makes him the Ravel of his generation.” However interesting it might be to do so, his latest release doesn't allow the validity of the claim to be tested when it's a solo piano affair. What Sessions, 3 A.M. does do, however, is afford the listener repeated opportunities to appreciate Torke's seemingly inexhaustible gift for melody.
He's produced a staggering amount of material since the ‘80s, its range extending from orchestral pieces and operas to chamber settings, string quartets, concertos, ballets, and vocal works. It's been performed widely and received its fair share of recognition; his recent Sky, for instance, composed for violinist Tessa Lark, was a finalist for the 2020 Pulitzer Prize and received a Grammy nomination for best classical instrument solo.
At the more intimate and exposing end of the spectrum is Sessions, 3 A.M., not just for being solo piano pieces but for being ones performed by Torke himself. Recorded at the Samurai Hotel Recording Studio on May 18th this year and issued on his own Ecstatic Records imprint, the forty-five-minute release comprises fifteen succinct statements by the Milwaukee, Wisconsin-born composer.
Consistent with the album title, they're atmospheric mood pieces, enticing, soothing, and contemplative—put simply, nocturnal reveries. With the titles referencing building-related aspects of cathedrals and churches—pediments, friezes, cornices, and the like—it's hard to resist drawing a parallel between musical and architectural structures and their shared concern for order, design, and form. Quoted material on the release's inner sleeve implies simplicity was also a guiding principle in the music's creation.
Calm is instated and reflection induced by the melancholy opener “Nave,” representative of the release in its elegance and lyricism. A hint of minimalism seeps into the material on occasion, but these pieces are more akin to études than pattern-based exercises. It might even be better to simply characterize them as instrumental songs so as to not emphasize the technical aspect associated with the étude. These oft-lilting expressions are unfailingly mellifluous, “Chancel” and “Frieze” but two examples of many, and often tender and gentle too (see “Transept,” “Lunette,” and “Truss”). A lovely recording, all things considered, whose charm does much to argue on behalf of Torke's music. Stripped bare, it's no less beguiling than when dressed in ornate orchestral garb.October 2023