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About Literature / Hobbyist Elizabeth DavisFemale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 7 Years
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Literature
Notes for Beethoven Pastorale
Symphony Number 6 in F Major, Opus 68 "Pastorale"
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Most of the familiar titles attached to Beethoven's works were put there by someone other than the composer.  The Pastoral, however, is one of only two symphonies Beethoven himself titled, its full title being "the Pastoral Symphony, or Recollections of Country Life."
Beethoven wrote the sixth symphony right after he wrote the fifth, and in fact he had written the fourth, fifth and sixth symphonies all between 1806 and 1808.  Working on both the fourth and fifth symphonies at the same time during those years, Beethoven then turned to the sixth, debuting the fifth and sixth symphony together on the same program in December, 1808.
These symphonies are all within Beethoven's Second Style Period, often cited as the beginning of Romantic music.  But despite the programmatic elements of this symphony, Beethoven is still very much keeping to traditional form and structure. 
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Literature
Palaver Poppycock + Prattle 10
To the Rescue – Symona and Tavan and the Dreary Gray
Symona and Tavan crouched together behind an outcropping along the edge of the cliff side, peering occasionally over the top to look at the castle towering in the far distance.  Queen Kathleen was inside, they knew that much.  But Symona still had no idea how they were supposed to be able to get to her.
"How are we ever going to get in to that big, scary place?"  Tavan asked, echoing Symona's thoughts.
"I don't know, Tavan."  Symona then shushed the satyr, holding her forefinger up in front of her lips and making the universally known shhhhhh sound.
Symona scootched forward, then plopped down on her belly and settled down, laying flat on the ground, propping her elbows in the dirt and resting her chin in her cupped hands.  Her flute, Melody, was still in its hard case, tied on to the lower rings of the small backpack she had for the moment taken off and laid down beside her.
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Literature
Palaver Poppycock + Prattle 09
Getting to Know You – Day Two with Tavan
When Symona woke in the morning, she was a little disoriented and confused at first.  The bed was too soft to be her camp cot, and she was alone in the little cabin.  There were no other beds at all, bunk bed or regular for instance.  And it was a little too chilly.  There were also no windows anywhere that she could see.  So if there was a window, it was shuttered or behind curtains or something. Whatever was going on, the room was still pretty dark.  What had woken her?
Then she heard it again.  A pretty loud crowing from a rooster or something like that, far enough away that she could not be sure where the bird was, but close enough that it was plenty loud enough to be the alarm clock.  At least she was pretty sure it was a rooster crowing.
Symona rolled out of her bed, and realized she was still in the clothes she had been wearing the night before. 
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Literature
Palaver Poppycock + Prattle 08
A Mighty Fortress – Baron Nefarious and the Dreary Gray
Baron Nefarious had a castle.  It was amazingly similar to the Harlech Castle in Wales in fact.  If you could see it from overhead, it would look roughly like a huge rectangle with towers in each of its four corners, surrounded by a wall that pushed out in front to make the wall more of a pentagon with a large gate in the middle of the front point rather than another tower.  The walls that curved around at the four towers were another ten feet higher than the rest of the wall, which itself was about thirty feet tall all around.  Topped by a parapet or low wall on the outer side of the main wall that was an embattlement with a continuous series of merlons and interjecting lower crenal openings all the way around.  His minions would have ample cover to fire down with crossbows, regular bows, and any number of more lethal weapons as well, and would have a nearly perfectly unobstr
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Literature
Palaver Poppycock + Prattle 07
Aftermath – Wandering, Alone and Lost
A heartbeat after the blinding flash, a whoosh of pressure passed over Symona from the distant detonation of exploding robots and gate.  It was, however, still more than enough to knock her back off her feet to the ground.  She saw rather than felt people rushing past, heading over to the place where Stevie had pulled His Royal Nonsense, Prince Poppycock, and his brilliant white stallion winged unicorn to the ground.  Everyone seemed to be milling around him, and Symona could not hear anything he was saying, but he apparently was saying something and was very agitated and animated.  His arms were flailing wildly as he gesticulated and stomped around in a small circle.  He then stopped abruptly, and after a short moment of more stentorian speech, leaped up on to his stallion's back, then took off for the horizon.  But His Royal Nonsense and his mount stayed on the ground this time, so
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Literature
Palaver Poppycock + Prattle 06
Meet the Villain – The Baron Awakes
Baron Nefarious, or Neffie as that one annoying skylark insisted on calling him, did not wake happily from his slumber.  For one, it took him a while to get all the braces, eye shade mask, ear plugs, and CPAP breathing mask untangled from one another and set back on their various posts and rests so the maintenance robots could clean them later.  For another, he was stiff and sore.  Today, it seemed to be a pinched nerve in his left shoulder.  Maybe he had slept on it wrong, he was not sure.
In any case, it was just the latest in a long litany of aches, pinches, bruises, sprains and pains that made him realize how mortal and broken he really was.  He felt almost like he was transforming or morphing himself into something of a robot every night when he prepared for bed.  The wrist braces had heavy metal rods on both dorsal and palmar sides of his hand and wrist, and a large plate that wen
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Literature
Palaver Poppycock + Prattle 05
Poppyland – Back to the Grazing Unicorns and Meeting His Royal Nonsense
As she got close enough to almost touch the delightful equines, she heard the faintest trumpets or horns playing, off in the distance.  Maybe from over the hill that was rising up behind the herd.
It was a fanfare, she thought.  First just one, then several, playing a few more notes, until finally it sounded like something similar to the Rimsky Korsakov March of the Nobles.  Only it also had a dancing, prancing faster kind of two beat going on too, like the dance from the opera where Orpheus went to the underworld that Jacques Offenbach wrote and they later turned into a ballet called Gaite Parisian.  Her mom had a CD with Arthur Fiedler conducting that can-can, which was the music most people knew.  Only this now was just a hint of that kind of dancing music, not the full blown production.
At least, not until the parade leader crested the hill and flew up to t
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Literature
Palaver Poppycock + Prattle 04
Interlochen Interlude – Unlocking Pan's Gate
Symona had a rare free hour, and she wanted to spend it alone.  No cabin mates chattering in her ear or anything like that.  So she decided she would go find the Pan statue and hunker down behind it in that little pine copse he was tucked away in.  It was enough off the main paths that she would have the privacy she wanted, but not so isolated that she would get lost or anything like that.  She just wanted to have a little time alone that was not tied to being in a practice room focused on the music.
She found her way to the statue readily, and rubbed his lower hoofed foot by way of a greeting as she picked her way through the scrubby branches to get around behind him, then sat down with her back to the foot or so wide wooden pillar of the statue's base.  Pan would keep watch for her while she relaxed and just stared up at the sky through the greenery of the spiky pine branches. 
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Literature
Palaver Poppycock + Prattle 03
Scene By the Brook and National Music C[r]amp Jokes
They were going to play the scene by the brook movement in orchestra.  Symona thought it was a little slow, but then again, they were not supposed to sound like rushing rapids, just more like a babbling brook that was just slowly making its way downstream on a lazy afternoon.  This was a movement from the sixth symphony that Ludwig van Beethoven wrote.  Sixth out of Nine or maybe ten, but the last one was something that Beethoven himself didn't get to finish, so there were only a couple movements for it in his sketchbooks or something and nobody ever played the number ten symphony.  Just the more famous ones like the ninth or the fifth.
Symona loved the flute part.  At the end of this movement, which was the second one in the whole symphony actually, she even got to be a bird.  Or at least play what sounded like a bird call.  All the upper woodwinds got to be birds
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Literature
Palaver Poppycock + Prattle 02
Birthday Memories – Parties at Chuck E Cheese's House
Symona's tenth birthday party had been okay.  They had a party at Chuck E Cheese's again, just like the last four years that she could remember for her and a half dozen of her friends, and their parents, and her dopey little brother Sebastian, too.  She sometimes wished she could just leave him at home, but Mom would always insist that she had to let him be there, too.  At least they could usually ditch him when they all went upstairs to go hit the games.
They did her eleventh birthday party there, too.  Symona thought maybe this was the last year they would, though.  Taylor, Maddie, Kate, Liz, Jess and Ebony were always fun to hang with, even if Ebony usually had her little sister Alexis in tow, too.  It was just too bad they couldn't fob Alexis off on to Sebastian, but she wanted absolutely nothing what so ever to do with Symona's little brother.
"I don' wanna play w
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Literature
Palaver Poppycock + Prattle 01
Home Life – Put my Llama Back!
"No, no.  You put my llama back!"
Symona hated it when anybody messed with her stuffies.  Especially when that anybody ended up being her kid brother, Sebastian.  Bastian could be a real pain sometimes.
"Since when are you allowed in my room anyway, Bastian?"
Bastian stuck his tongue out, but did drop the llama stuffie back on Symona's pillow.  "Llama llama was lonely."
"Was not!"  Symona really hated it when her little brother came in to her room.  This was her room, her sanctuary!  He had plenty of stuff of his own to play with, he did not need to be messing with hers!
"Sure he was.  Didn't you hear him calling?"  Sebastian cupped one hand to his ear and said in a sing-song lilt, "Baaaaaaaaaaaaa- stien!  I want to plaaaaaaay with youuuuuuuu!"
"Get out of my room, Bastian!"  Symona shouted.  Then, stomping her foot for emphasis, sh
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Literature
Meeting Tavan
The boy sat, hunched over a bowl of something steaming.  His scraggly black hair hung to his shoulders and reminded Symona oddly of an old sheep dog.  Probably because she could not see the boy's eyes when he let his bangs hang down in front of his face, they dropped almost to the tip of his nose.  And his hair was wavy enough to hang in loose ringlets that almost but not quite looked like dred-locks only the kind you got if you had wavy hair that you never combed or brushed.  And he definitely was not a neat, tidy, brushing kind of guy.  Symona saw that from the stains that ran down the front of his dark brown shirt.  Even that color was not enough to camouflage the trails of dirt and food stains that ran down it like splattered wax from that one decorative candle that Mom had back home on one shelf in the end of the hall walkway.
The boy had his left hand thrust into his hair at the top of his forehead.  Fingers tw
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Inspiration for Tavan by Fictacello Inspiration for Tavan :iconfictacello:Fictacello 0 0 Pan at Interlochen MI by Fictacello Pan at Interlochen MI :iconfictacello:Fictacello 1 0 Dyed egg, pattern by nature by Fictacello Dyed egg, pattern by nature :iconfictacello:Fictacello 0 0 TwinkleTwinkle Little Starfish by Fictacello TwinkleTwinkle Little Starfish :iconfictacello:Fictacello 1 0

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Activity


Symona had a rare free hour, and she wanted to spend it alone.  No cabin mates chattering in her ear or anything like that.  So she decided she would go find the Pan statue and hunker down behind it in that little pine copse he was tucked away in.  It was enough off the main paths that she would have the privacy she wanted, but not so isolated that she would get lost or anything like that.  She just wanted to have a little time alone that was not tied to being in a practice room focused on the music.

She found her way to the statue readily, and rubbed his lower hoofed foot by way of a greeting as she picked her way through the scrubby branches to get around behind him, then sat down with her back to the foot or so wide wooden pillar of the statue's base.  Pan would keep watch for her while she relaxed and just stared up at the sky through the greenery of the spiky pine branches.  The needles on the ground made a soft enough carpet or bed that she didn't even feel like she was sitting on the ground, but rather on a kind of smashed down blanket or comforter instead.

Symona leaned back, resting her head against the scruffy bark of the lower trunk of Pan's pedestal and looked up, noticing how dark the green boughs made certain splotchy areas over her heard look.  Most of the sky was totally blotted out by the layer behind layer behind layer of the needle studded branches.  And they were not the long pine needles you could make rings or necklaces out of.  These were all those super short, stubby nubs of needles that were less than an inch long and just made the branches look like fuzzy caterpillars or something if you looked at a single, individual branch.

There was another kind of bushy something or other growing up from the ground around the statue itself, too.  Its leaves were all a little darker green and round.  The bigger ones were about the size of the silver dollar coin she had back at home, while the smallest ones were closer to the size of a dime, or maybe her own thumbnail.  Symona thought they looked a little bit like tiny little flute keys, especially the way they grew all in a straight line along the tiny twig like vines, as long as you just looked at one side of the vine at a time.  They really grew in both directions from their vines, so maybe it was like two dark green flutes laying side by side more, their round keys all lines up in perfect rows.

Symona had a picture of a bunch of flutes laying side by side like that back home in her room, too.  All shiny and silver, polished up to gleam.  Most of them with solid keys, but a few sprinkled in to the group shot had open holed keys, so they kind of made little splotches of darker shadows in the sea of glittery silver.  The picture was an actual photograph from flutes that some artist had laid out on top of a black velvet blanket, but you could only see tiny bits of that blanket down near the bottom right corner of the picture. Most of it was just the close up of the flutes, mostly of the keys on their main bodies.  You couldn't even see past the foot joint in most of them… except for one Suzuki student flute that was laying on top of all the rest so you could clearly see both its foot joint section and the head joint that bent back with that huge U shaped bend in it for tiny hands to hold.

Playing with the grassy "keys" of this mystery bush at Pan's feet, Symona fingered through some of the Mendelssohn Midsummer Night's Dream part, just silently, not even practicing the breathing.  It was kind of like just playing in the air, she almost couldn't even feel the leafy round "keys" as her fingertips brushed them.  Just the one spray that was closest to Pan's lowered right cloven hoof that was right against the pedestal base, and that she was really feeling the wood or whatever that statue was made up of under the leaves, not the leaves themselves.

As she "played" with the leaves at Pan's foot, Symona swore she could hear the notes ever so softly playing, muffled, as if they were from a great distance, or maybe even inside a wooden cabin nearby or something.  That was probably it.  Another camper going over the first flute part in one of the practice cabins down the road.  She stopped, and so did the music.  She waited a few breaths, then tried tapping the leaf keys again, and sure enough, the notes once again started to play.

Hmm.  That was weird.  Maybe it was just a coincidence.  Or maybe Symona was going crazy, or this was all just one crazy coincidence.

Symona tapped the grassy keys again, this time in a simple scale up and down, and the mystery flute played the notes in that very same sequence.  She tried speeding up, then slowing down as she went up and down the scale, then with some halting, dotted rhythms, and the distant notes again echoed her every movement.

Rocking back on her heels to sit up straight, Symona stared hard at the statue, then down at the leaves of that bush vine and tried to trace the vine back into the base of the bush, but she lost track of it almost as soon as it dove in to the main cluster of leaves and twiggy branches.  Then the cloven hoof twitched ever so slightly.  Symona blinked.

Had Pan just moved?  That couldn't be for real!  Symona thought she was losing it.  She shook her head, then stopped still.  Why was she fighting this?  It could be fun?  What if this was some kind of lock to a doorway to another dimension like in the chronicles of Narnia or Harry Potter or something?

Symona bent back to the woodsy flute key leaves and tried fingering a few passages again.  Going from the high D to the C and then b meant going from pressing  her left middle and ring fingers to just the pointer, to then using pointer and middle finger, but the mystery distant flute did not play until she found a leaf to be the thumb key growing down on the other side of that one twig to press in for those three high notes.  They normally were on ledger lines above the staff on the real music part.  She was starting to get into this.  It was like she was being a code cracker, only it was with flute, and she knew fingerings like they were her native language.

She was definitely on to something with the Mendelssohn though.  She didn't even know why she had started messing around with the scherzo even, the allegro vivace of his scherzo just sounded like perfect fairy secret music to Symona.  So she tried playing the opening, slowly, to see if the secret flute playing did anything.  But all she got was that faint echoing playing.  Hmm.

Maybe she needed to play more of the song.  Symona had been stopping when she got to the end of the first four bars of the melody, because the next four were just playing one note, the F above high C on the top line of the treble clef over a couple more times.  Well, it was in rhythm, and in unison with the second flute when you played it for real, so maybe she should keep playing the line?  This time, Symona kept playing, first four measures of the ta, ta-ka ta-ka rhythmic motive, then the longer dotted quarter tied over the bar to a syncopated kick repeating note, then back to four bars of the eighth note, sixteenth notes, eighth notes rhythm again, only this time all on the A above middle C, pressing her pinkie down on a squished little half-furled leaf where a split key would be on her actual flute.

The third time, when she got to the ta, ta-ka ta-ta eighth note, sixteenth notes pattern, it stayed up in the higher register longer.  And this time, it didn't drop to a syncopated repeated long note.  Rather, this time she got to play the ta, ta-ka ta-ka motive three more times, only with an accent on each of the first of four sixteenth notes when they came up.  So even though that was something she would normally do with her breath, not her fingers, she tapped the accented notes a little firmer as she got to them.  Maybe it was a little more like percussion than woodwind playing, but it felt right.

It was as she "played" the last note of that twenty-fourth measure that she heard the distinctive "click" come from the base of the Pan statue's tree trunk like pedestal.  Was that a crack she saw?

Symona stopped playing with the leafy keys and scooted over closer to the tree trunk.  Or rather, the statue pedestal base.  It was hard to see from the front, but she was pretty sure there was some kind of crack that had not been there before.  Feeling along the seam with her fingertips, Symona found an indentation that was big enough for her to fit three fingers in all together.  When she did that, she felt something cold, almost metallic, and alarmed, pulled back.

The metal half-came out with her fingers, but it was just a pull ring.  Symona laughed softly at herself for being such a scaredy cat.  This was no time to be timid!  This was a secret and she had just unlocked the door to it!
  • Listening to: Spouse playing Quake 2
  • Eating: soon
  • Drinking: when we eat

deviantID

Fictacello
Elizabeth Davis
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
OLD: I'm a semi-retired cellist, homemaker and mother who's settled down to being a big fish in a little pond in a local amateur orchestra. I teach a handful of private students, but my pro days are behind me, mostly due to a series of hand injuries and surgeries that have left me with little endurance for full-time playing. I mostly just dabble in drawing, but hope to improve.

NOW: I'm the new Strings Instructor at a nearby parochial high school, and still play in a couple local amateur ensembles. I'm also much more active with my composition.

Current Residence: Columbia, MD (between Baltimore and Washington DC)
deviantWEAR sizing preference: XXXL
Favourite genre of music: Orchestral
MP3 player of choice: my cell phone
Personal Quote: We are what we repeatedly do. - Aristotle
Interests

Comments


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:iconmusicscifigirl:
musicscifigirl Featured By Owner May 9, 2011  Hobbyist Digital Artist
OMG I totally didn't realize who you were when I got your commission message!!!! OMG Hi Elizabeth!!!
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Fictacello Featured By Owner May 9, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Heh, it's okay. I forget who I am where sometimes myself.

Pau's just the character I started up on an old MUD a couple months ago when I went back to playing it and I'd like to make a real web page for her, not just that one blog page, but for that I need at least one nice image!
Reply
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musicscifigirl Featured By Owner May 9, 2011  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I finished the sketch earlier. I hope to start the coloring process tomorrow.
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Fictacello Featured By Owner May 10, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Cool. Looking forward to seeing how someone else sees my girl!
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:iconophelion:
Ophelion Featured By Owner Jan 20, 2010  Hobbyist
Thanks a lot for the fave and watch! =D
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Ophelion Featured By Owner Jan 20, 2010  Hobbyist
... Are you perchance a player on NWA? O_=
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:iconfictacello:
Fictacello Featured By Owner Jan 22, 2010  Hobbyist Writer
Aerdra here. Used to be Arden in beta.
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:iconophelion:
Ophelion Featured By Owner Jan 22, 2010  Hobbyist
Ahh, I didn't even know what MUDding was at the time of beta, but nice to meet you!
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DaveyDonders Featured By Owner Jan 12, 2010  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the :+fav:
Reply
:iconspacefood:
SpaceFood Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2010
Thank you so much for the watch! I know all sorts of cellists (my mother's a teacher), so it's always a joy to meet another. :)
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