My album Koi Dance is still90% off with promo code koipond. Pick it up today! —TPP
Tuesday night I had the opportunity to sit down for an interview with Roman Riva of Opium Tales. Regular readers will know that I’ve been reviewing his series of novellas (read my reviews of the first four books here, here, here, and here). We discussed music (Roman is a talented heavy metal guitarist), dogs, koi, art, and all manner of other topics. You can watch the interview on Substack or on YouTube:
Amid our conversation we talked about composing and my various musical influences. It reminded me of this post about Gustav Mahler’s composing habits.
I love this time of year, as the crisp, cool weather is conducive to creative activity. Time seems to speed up after summer, too, which creates an underlying sense of urgency to create and produce. I’ve been a tad lax on creating new works lately, as I’ve been doing some arranging for my students, but I’m eager to get back to composing original works.
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.
Yours portly has been noodlin’ on the old sax a good bit over the past couple of weeks, so for lack of a better topic—and, uh, to catch you up on my latest adventures in noodling!—here are some recent posts featuring a total of six saxy jams.
The title for today’s Lazy Sunday comes from this classic scene from The Simpsons, which I probably think about every time I pick up the saxophone:
I had a gig a couple weeks back, and it’s gotten me practicing my sax a lot more. It’s also been an opportunity to churn out some sweet, sweet YouTube content. Indeed, last week I featured three quick sax pieces; check them out if you missed them.
This week, here are three more videos of my saxophonic noodling, curated for your listening pleasure:
“Moon River” by Henry Mancini
Just a quick rendition of the classic tune from the classic film.
“The Way of the Ghost” from Ghost of Tsushima
A sax arrangement of “The Way of the Ghost” from the classic Ghost of Tsushima; I play it a bit faster than the original. Good old Ponty requested this cover, so I took the opportunity to arrange it for solo alto sax.
Indeed, you can purchase my solo sax arrangement at the following online retailers:
I had a gig down in Charleston this past Saturday night. A young man from Connecticut was proposing to his girlfriend (she said yes, by the way), and he’d hired me to play a Lewis Capaldi song before he popped the question. It was a really fun, touching moment, and I’m grateful I could be part of it (he paid me pretty well, too).
In practicing for that little performance, I had fun flipping through my music, and came upon a piano arrangement of Richard Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” that I play on the saxophone. Since I’m playing unaccompanied, I don’t have to transpose the music (saxophone is an Eb instrument, meaning that if an Eb is played on a piano, it’s a C on the saxophone), so I just read the right-hand piano melody straight off the page.
I had fun with this version, which I’m sharing today:
Other than a quick piece I dashed off earlier this week, I haven’t had much time for composing. However, my koi pond adventures have inspired me—just in time to reblog this post about one of my favorite pieces of Romantic music.
That the piece is about a river is appropriate—while my koi are swirling about in a murky pond, the watery imagery is a source of inspiration for the piece that is slowly taking shape in mind.
I actually have an idea for the cover art for the album that will feature this imagined piece. I took a picture of these cool little koi tea cups that Dr. Wife got me for my birthday on one of the pianos at school:
Regardless, I’ve always loved this piece, ever since I read about it in Roger Kamien’s Music: An Appreciation, Brief 8th Edition (that’s an Amazon Affiliate link; I receive a portion of any purchases made through that link, at no additional cost to you) and listened to it with my students.
I’m slamming out Spooky Season IV, and it’s nowhere near as ingenious as the works of Gustav Mahler. But what I find so fascinating is how composers and other creative types work, especially when they’re trying to churn out major projects.
“Workflow” get tossed around a lot, but it really is remarkable to see how the most dedicated craftsmen and artists create a consistent and detailed schedule of daily habits and rituals. I especially love to learn about what they ate for breakfast—probably my favorite ritual of the day.
Yours portly has an out-of-town gig tomorrow night for a private party in Wilmington, North Carolina. I’ll be playing a mix of French and modern pieces on my alto saxophone.
Naturally, I have spent some spare time this week after school and lessons and practicing. One of my recent favorite Romantic Era pieces is Alexander Borodin’s “Polovtsian Dance No. 1,” from his opera Prince Igor.
I made a small recording and uploaded it to YouTube:
It’s been several years now since I last taught the fun but short-lived Pre-AP Music Appreciation course that spawned some of these pieces highlighting classical and Romantic musical works, but I still love the musical selections dearly. Bedřich Smetana’s The Moldau still captures my imagination, and I still have not composed anything that comes remotely close to its beauty and genius.
Nevertheless, I routinely cite Smetana as an influence, especially when uploading my pieces to CD Baby for digital distribution. He almost always gets a mention in the “artists like” categories I fill out for each release. Hopefully he’s not spinning in his grave at the thought of that.
With that, here is 11 January 2024’s “TBT^2: The Joy of Romantic Music II: Bedřich Smetana’s ‘The Moldau'”:
This Friday, 29 November 2024 my tenth release of the year, Leftovers III, will hit all streaming platforms (including Spotify). In advance of the EP’s release, I wanted to feature the composition that is the centerpiece of LIII, “Hanging Gardens.”
Before that, though, just take a moment to appreciate this decadent album artwork:
I think I made that sandwich over the summer, and took a picture of it about halfway through. No wonder my blood pressure and waistline are showing such high numbers!
But onto the piece itself. “Hanging Gardens” is the longest piece I have ever composed, clocking in at about 10:46 (I think the YouTube video has it at 10:47). I actually wanted to make it longer—around twenty minutes—to give it a more symphonic feel, but I reached the point where I a.) had to finish it to meet the 29 November 2024 release deadline and b.) I was out of ideas to pour into this enigmatic suite.