The composer introduces his new work LAST for solo violin and string orchestra - a series of twelve pieces described as miniature slow movements of violin concertos that invite the listener to feel retrospectively
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I’m struck by the power slow strings have over a listener. Something almost primal is activated in the brain - similar to the effects of opiates or painkillers. Slow strings blend so seamlessly that the sound becomes silky, even palliative. A solo violin weaving through this velvety texture feels like the tender voice of a consoling caregiver.
I’ve also noticed that people engage with music in more diverse ways today. It no longer exists solely in the concert hall or through speakers in the living room. Earbuds plug brains into phones, carried everywhere - music becomes the soundtrack to everyday life. After a long, exhausting day, people turn to music to unwind, to relax, to find respite, to feel cleansed. And when music serves this purpose, we often want its effects to keep coming. We might not seek the architectural contrasts that articulate classical form—the Allegro first movement, the Adagio second, the Scherzo, the Finale. Instead, we might gravitate toward a mood playlist that offers consistency and cohesion.
What if, then, you had a series of miniature slow movements from unwritten violin concertos? Not just meditations, but invitations to reflect - each one flowing into the next?
These were the germinal thoughts that led to LAST, for solo violin and string orchestra. My initial title was Grief, but I soon realised the danger in prescribing an emotional response. To me, it’s wrong to tell a listener what to feel. But if we speak about something in the past - say, something that happened last year - it becomes a more open-ended proposition.
Reflecting on the past brought to mind a common admonition: ’Don’t give me your woulda, coulda, shoulda’s - the past is done, move on!’ That’s a hallmark of Stoic philosophy. It urges us to live in the present; to fret over the past or stress about the future is futile, since these lie outside our control. But I think there are other ways to respond to the past. We can cherish it. We can mourn it. For me, the past populates the present—whether it’s last year, last month, last week, or last Sunday.
I had previously worked with the fine and polished ECCO - East Coast Chamber Orchestra - on my 2024 recording, UNSEEN. The strings were led by the exceptional Siwoo Kim during those sessions. I invited him to return as the soloist for LAST, and I brought ECCO back as well. Their sensitivity to phrasing and colour was immediately apparent in the sessions. We recorded at the Concert Hall at Drew University - an ideal acoustic for 14 strings.
Siwoo told me he approached the work like a wordless Schubert song cycle. And I can hear in his tone a personal melancholy, imbued with generosity - of the sort that holds your hand quietly in the dark. ECCO, in their layered richness, give a sense of time unfolding around that voice. Their performance seems to stretch time, making the music reach for something ungraspable. Slowness becomes spaciousness, allowing room for the listener’s own memories and reflections to surface.
Writing this music was almost an act of mindfulness in reverse. Rather than anchoring myself in the present, I followed the warp and weave of memory - not to get lost in nostalgia, but to recognise the emotional pull the past brings to the now. After all, sometimes the most meaningful way to be in the present…is to listen to the past.
Michael Torke’s LAST featuring Siwoo Kim and the East Coast Chamber Orchestra will be released on 12 November 2025. Watch the first track on the album Last Fall in the video below. The single Last Friday is released on 26 September 2025.
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