Local Piano Recital Review

Last summer I filled in for the pianist of the First United Methodist Church here in our new little town. Their regular pianist was, until this past Sunday, teen phenom John Patrick Hutchinson, who is already a world-class classical pianist at the age of seventeen (actually, I think he turns eighteen today, based on my foggy recollection of the pre-concert notes; happy birthday, JPH!). Hutchinson gave a farewell concert called A Final Measure: Notes Before Departure this past Sunday evening at the church; it’s his farewell because he’ll be heading to conservatory in a couple of weeks.

Instead of being held in the sanctuary, where the piano is unfortunately hidden by the organ, it was held in a small chamber just off of the sanctuary—and it was packed. The old men of the church started grabbing additional chairs from various Sunday School classrooms and other church hidey-holes as attendees poured in—as they continued to do well after the advertised start of the program. It was really amazing seeing, in this small city in an obscure corner of South Carolina, several dozen people—I estimated about 80 people in attendance—turning out to hear this young man play.

The size of the crowd matched the size of the talent. Hutchinson played with a beautiful, perceptive touch, drawing out the colors of each piece. His dynamics were varied and intense, and he played the technical passages of each piece with a light deftness that made the notes almost float.

The program was very balanced between Romantic, Impressionistic, Baroque, and modern classical. He opened with Franz Schubert‘s Sonata in A Major, D. 664, a piece from the first half of the eighteenth century that foreshadows some of the developments of the latter half of that century. There were harmonies and colorings of chords that sounded almost twentieth-century in nature; imagine how daring this piece would have been in Schubert’s time!

I did not record any of his performance—refreshing, there were no cell phones whipped out during the recital—but I’ll share performances of his pieces from other people. Here’s Alexander Gavrylyuk playing the Schubert:

After this three-part sonata, we had a brief intermission. Hutchinson resumed the second half with the Andante from Alexander Scriabin‘s Sonata No. 2 in G# Minor, Op. 19 (Sonata-Fantasy). The piece hinted at the developments in tonal experimentation of the early twentieth century (apparently, Scriabin developed his own system of atonality independent of Arnold Schoenberg‘s [in?]famous twelve-tone composing system). This piece balanced late-stage Romanticism (and even Impressionism) with some of those more—shall we say—daring innovations of the early twentieth century; overall, though, I’d say it evoked Chopin.

Here’s Yunchan Lim playing the piece:

Next came J.S. Bach‘s Prelude and Fugue in D Minor (not to be confused with his famous Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, the one always heard in scary movies). I love a good fugue, and this piece really highlighted Hutchinson’s precision, as well as Bach’s beautifully mathematical mind. It was a shorter piece, which made for a nice little refreshment after the longer Sonata-Fantasy.

Here’s a performance by Marta Czech:

Hutchinson closed with the most modern classical piece of the program, Emma Lou Diemer‘s Serenade/Toccata. It’s a piece that experiments with lively polyrhythms and often harsh dissonances, but does so without descending into pure noise territory—the dissonances serve a dynamic and musical purpose. There are also some flowing and painterly sections, which give the piece something of a contemplative yin to the more experimental yang.

Here’s a performance from my alma mater, the University of South Carolina, performed here by Paige Broadworth on 4 February 2024:

After a standing ovation, Hutchinson returned to the piano to play a jaunty ragtime tune. I’m not sure of the title of the piece, but it was quite fun. The little old lady sitting next to me started telling me her whole life story during the encore, so I couldn’t quite appreciate the piece in full, but it was fun and bouncy.

If I had to choose one word to sum up this recital, I’d pick “color.” Hutchinson pulled the unique tonal colors out of each piece; indeed, the program, other than perhaps the Bach selection from The Well-Tempered Clavier, seemed to focus on pieces with rich, complex tone colors. And like a master painter, Hutchinson interpreted the colors of each piece with a skill beyond his years.

Also: what a gift! This church has been blessed with a phenomenal young talent; so has the town. It is proof that even—perhaps often—it is in out-of-the-way places where talents are bursting forth. Yes, perhaps those provincial talents inevitably are drawn to the cultural centers—New York City, LA, Nashville, Des Moines—but they come from all across our vast, great nation.

All I can say is, bravo, Mr. Hutchinson! We hope you come back home for another performance soon.

Memorable Monday [Morning] Movie Review: The Empire Strikes Back [(1980)]

Back in late 2022 and early 2023, Ponty and I did a series of posts about our favorite films. I ranked 1980’s The Empire Strikes Back as my number one pick. If we redid the lists, I doubt it would rank that high, but it would certainly be in the top five.

At the time, I noted that Empire was the first film I ever reviewed for what would become Monday Morning Movie Reviews. At the time, I just called it Monday Movie Review, perhaps knowing there’d be days I’d miss the “morning” deadline. Regardless, the review of that film marked something of a turning point for The Portly Politico, moving away from primarily political topics and moving more decisively towards cultural ones.

With that, here is 28 September 2020’s “Monday Movie Review: The Empire Strikes Back“:

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Monday Morning Movie Review: The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971)

One of the flicks on my mental “to view” list for some time now was today’s feature, The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971; that’s an Amazon Affiliate link; I receive a portion of any purchases made through that link, at no additional cost to you). It’s been wickedly hard to track down online, although I’ve seen its sequel, Dr. Phibes Rises Again (same affiliate link as above) available on a number of platforms. For whatever reason, I never cared enough to find the DVD (ibid.)—or to even consider looking for it!

So when the sequel popped up on YouTube a couple of weeks ago, I decided to hunt down the original. Surely YouTube would have it as one of their free (with ads) flicks, yes?

Well, no. But someone—or two someones—had uploaded it to YouTube. I can’t vouch for how legit it is that they’ve done so, but they’ve head the film uploaded for seven years, so I imagine American International Pictures or the copyright holders of the various Great American Songbook tunes in the film don’t care or don’t know about the upload (hopefully I’m not outing them with this review). Regardless, two gentlemen in New Castle, Pennsylvania, have a little horror show called New Castle After Dark (website) in which they dress in the kind of tuxedos nerds wear to the prom. They also smoke lots of cigarettes and drink dark beer while they make some general comments about the flick.

It’s a charming setup, and I appreciated that they didn’t cut into the film too frequently. From what I recall, they do an intro, then host a segment midway through the film, and finally close with some concluding remarks. It’s just the right about of interstitial commentary, and I think it’s super cool that they’re trying to capture the spirit (no pun intended) of late-night horror hosts.

Here’s the flick with their commentary if you want to check it out yourself:

The premise for Dr. Phibes is insanely fun and campy: the titular doctor, who holds dual doctorates in music and theology, seeks revenge on the surgeons who he believes botched his wife’s surgery some years earlier. He methodically murders each doctor according to the Ten Plagues of Egypt from Exodus.

Phibes himself is a gruesome character. While his wife was going into surgery, he attempted to rush back to England from Switzerland. In the process he crashed his car, sustaining injuries that made it impossible for him to talk. To do so, he used his knowledge of music and acoustics to create a voice box (through which he comically drinks some champagne at one point). He also has a full, automaton band that plays jazz and pop standards from the 1920s (the setting of the film) and, anachronistically, the 1930s and 1940s.

Vincent Price portrays the devilishly ingenious doctor, so imagine Price’s stentorian voice filtered through an old landline telephone wire. It’s so goofy and awesome.

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Monday Morning Movie Review: The Last Man on Earth (1964)

I started writing this review Sunday evening and decided to spend time with Dr. Wife, who is now done with residency and living here in our South Carolina house permanently! This morning was full of errands, including taking Nugget to the vet for her annual visit and taking care of things around the house. Ergo, I’m finally getting around to finishing up this review. —TPP

Also, this post includes some Amazon Affiliate links (the book and movie titles). I receive a portion of any purchases made through these links at no additional cost to you. —TPP

On Saturday I wrote about Richard Matheson’s novella I Am Legend, which I enjoyed reading over the past week. What prompted me to purchase the book was re-watching its 1964 film adaptation, The Last Man on Earth. The film stars Vincent Price is the role of Robert Neville, the titular last man on Earth not to succumb to a terrible plague that turns people into vampires.

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TBT^4,294,967,296: End the Income Tax

Once again it’s tax season in the United States.  I won’t bore you—again—with the details of our bizarre, nightmarish tax situation, but to suffice it to say that, at the time of writing, yours portly and his dear Dr. Wife are about $5500 poorer and Uncle Sam is probably paying for a federal inmates gender reassignment surgery.  Next year will be much easier, but it’s always a pain.

I think what I resent most is that the federal government is now party to every economic exchange I make outside of purchasing a brownie from a sidewalk bake sale.  Any money I earn gets reported.  Indeed, I probably report more than I really need to, because I do take seriously Jesus’ instruction to “render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s.”  I just wish Caesar was spending my money in the national interest, not in the niche interests of some special interest group or immigrant group that got here fifteen seconds ago.

But it is—for another year, at least—done.  Now I’m free to enjoy Spring Break and to wait, watchful and eel-like, for next year.

With that, here is 10 April 2025’s “TBT^65,536: End the Income Tax“:

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Monday Morning Movie Review: Wuthering Heights (2026)

Dr. Wife and I went to see Emerald Fennell’s adaptation/reinterpretation of Wuthering Heights (2026) the other weekend after a long day of lugging our stuff to our new home.  The director’s name—which sounds like a extremely colorful spice—should give some insight into what the film was like.  I’ve never read Emily Brontë novel—yes, literature girls, you can sacrifice me to Emily Dickinson—but Dr. Wife had, so she filled me in some of the details.

The original novel is the bleak tale of a doomed romance denied by the strictures of propriety, social class, and cash.  The movie is an excessively plodding first act that culminates in twenty minutes of sexual depravity followed by a tragic death.

The film is gaining notoriety because it’s smut.  My wife kept calling it “Wuthering Glutes,” and we had fun making jokes involving the word “wuthering” and other anatomical features.  The popular consensus is correct:  it is basically an excuse for a swarthy heartthrob to assert his will over Margot Robbie while women swoon lustily.

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Memorable Monday Morning Movie Review: The Super Mario Bros. Movie (2023)

Dr. Wife and I went to see the smutty literary adaptation of Wuthering Heights (2026) this weekend, not because Dr. Wife is into that kind of thing, but because there’s been so much buzz around the film, she wanted to be part of the cultural moment.  I was going to review that film today, but that’ll have to go on the backburner due to time constraints.

The quick version:  like all modern movies, it’s thirty minutes too long; the script is flabby and ponderous; and the middle act is basically just chick lit p-word smut.  It setup several ideas that never had payoffs.  It did have amazing sets and costumes, and the sense of bleak tragedy from the novel (which, to be clear, I haven’t read) was, according to my wife, there, even if the film took great liberties with the source material.

But I digress.  A piano student of mine brought in a little Mario doll he’s had since he was a baby.  He asked me at the end of his lesson to film a quick movie review of the 2023 hit The Super Mario Bros. Movie; I obliged:

That being the case, I figured I’d reblog this review of the film from 2023.

With that, here 22 May 2023’s “Monday Morning Movie Review: The Super Mario Bros. Movie (2023)“:

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Monday Morning Movie Review: Ponty Praises “24”

Just a heads-up:  this review contains a lot of Amazon Affiliate links.  I receive a portion of any purchases made through these links, at no additional cost to you. —TPP

Good ol’ Ponty sent over an unexpected treat:  this excellent review of the early 2000s hit television series 24—at least, it’s his review of the first three seasons, along with his initial impressions of the fourth.

I remember when this show debuted.  It was the perfect show for the War on Terror, back when that conflict still enjoyed some popular support among the American people.  It was quintessentially Bush-era American:  a brave lone warrior, coupled with a good counter-terrorism team, found the terrorists, while also resorting to (and often being the victim of) “enhanced interrogation techniques.”  It was a time when we wanted terrorists, both on-screen and in real life, to get roughed up indiscriminately, “human rights” be damned!

24 delivered.  I hadn’t thought of the show much since those halcyon—and, it turns out, dying—days of cable television until Ponty sent along this review.  So come bask with us in those pre-Great Recession days, when it seemed like maybe we could actually install functioning, Western-style democracies in the Middle East.

With that, here is Ponty’s review of the television series 24:

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Monday Morning Movie Review: 28 Days Later (2002)

The next film in the 28 [Unit of Time] series, 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple hits theaters this weekend, and yours portly is hoping that Dr. Wife and I can squeeze in a matinee showing this Saturday.  It also seems that Shudder has a couple of the earlier films on its service, including 28 Days Later (2002), which I stayed up late last night to finish watching.

I wasn’t sure I had seen this flick before, but several of the key scenes did click with me (like the father getting a single drop of infected blood in his eye, causing him to go made with the Rage virus).  I have seen it, but I’d forgotten most of the major plot points and the ending.  With the new film releasing this weekend, it was a good opportunity to refresh my memory (Shudder also has 28 Weeks Later [2007], which I watched recently as well).  I’d forgotten what a great film it is.

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Monday Morning Movie Review: Gremlins (1984)

Over the glorious Christmas Break Dr. Wife and I sat down to watch one of my favorite childhood flicks, Gremlins (1984; that’s an Amazon Affiliate link to a Blu-Ray of the film, along with Gremlins 2 and The Goonies; I received a portion of any purchase made through that link, at no additional cost to you).  She had never seen it before, and as it is a Christmas movie (at least, it takes place at Christmas), I thought we should give it a watch.  I also knew that she would love Gizmo, the plucky Mogwai (she did).

I remember a similar scenario many years ago with my older brother’s first wife:  we all sat down and watched Gremlins, which she had never seen before, and it was a delightful experience.  Dr. Wife was feeling under-the-weather when we did our viewing together, but she thoroughly enjoyed it.  I did as well, even though I did not enjoy wrapping Christmas presents (poorly) while we watched—ha!

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