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		Message board > Word of the Day     
			
		 Word of the Day 
		
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 crisholm
 
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							| Word of the Day 
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							| Well, dear friends, the time has come. I loved Ldthemagicman �s, Edromedina �s and Redbull �s lengthy arguments, but I got caught by Magneto �s simplicity.  Marion �s warnings are to be taken into account. Some explanations are a bit lurid - all that apparently innocent hunting... In the end, I must choose Moravc �s non-manicheistic definition, as it allows for both nice and evil creatures (allowing for those jars that remind us of Elinor Rigby!).  By the way, SCREELPOKE, according to  Jeffrey Kacirk �s �Forgotten English Calendar �, is �a name bestowed on a crying child; from �screed �, to cry in a shrieking manner. So many of you were close enough, at least in what sound effects are concerned. The calendar mentions Dvorak �s unique symphonic poem, �The Noonday Witch �, who would snap up the crying child if it didn �t behave (I do not know why it is mentioned in the calendar, because after all it must have been in Czech and the word is Mid-Yorkshire dialect). I �ve googled it and, to my surprise, it also means � A person who writes begging letters asking for money, using a different name or personality for each like Thernardier in the novel Les Mis�rables. � There �s even a blog with links under the name! Thanks to all of you and keep playing! Hugs! |  22 Nov 2010      
					
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 moravc
 
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							| Thanks a lot! I never thought of that :-) 
 The piece itself was formally premi�red on 21st 
November 1896 in London under the conductor Henry Wood. A letter written
 by Dvoř�k to the Vienna critic Dr. Robert Hirschfeld, shortly before 
its performance by the Vienna Philharmonic under Hans Richter on 20th 
December 1896, allows us an insight into the comparative structures of 
the poem and its accompanying music:  Dear Dr. Hirschfeld, Yesterday and
 the day before that I was already awaiting your letter, and I was about
 to write to Dr. Richter about the matter [concerning the concert 
programme], because I did not know that you are going to prepare the 
analysis of all three works. To come straight to the heart of the 
matter:
 Motif I, the child playing quietly, is a species of idyll
 Motif II [Oboe]  is an imitation of a cockerel [commonly misunderstood 
to be the child becoming peevish, but proven otherwise by Dvoř�k �s 
addition of  �ki-ki-ri-ki � in the score], which the child is given to 
play with by his mother to keep him quiet;
 The mother becomes angry:  
Motif III [Flute and Oboe] represents the child when he cries  The 
mother becomes quarrelsome and scolds the child [Viola]: Then the 
mother says she will go to fetch the Noon Witch.
 The motif appears  
concisely expressed and carefully prepared.
 The child calms down and the
 former scene is re-enacted.
 The appearance of the Witch as she opens 
the door slowly and walks up to the mother [Violin]:  Bass clarinet 
below in the bass.
 She says to her: �Give me your child� [Trumpet and 
Trombone]:
 She [the mother] becomes desperate:  The music now develops 
more and more;
 the Witch seizes hold of the mother, who shrinks back, 
and being afraid for the safety of her child she clutches him to her 
bosom. As for the music, it is a description of the Witch:  in between 
the mother screams:  [listen for the Woodwind section - the subdued 
screams of the mother - beneath the Witch �s theme in the Brass] until 
page 32,
 where the mother, almost dead from being chased and scarcely 
breathing, collapses:
 The orchestra becomes more and more subdued until
 page 33, no. 14:
 It is midday � the father prays, without any 
knowledge of what has happened.  he opens the door  and discovers his 
wife unconscious on the floor.
 The mother�s motif [Oboe] appears again: 
 The father tries to revive her, and gradually she begins to breathe 
again:
 She regains consciousness. Modulation to A major:   This figure
 and a sudden crescendo lead to the motif that follows, where the 
father, in despair at the loss of the child, displays the greatest 
agitation:  The Witch vanishes:
 
 Most respectfully yours, A. Dvoř�k
 P.S.
 In great haste! Your letter arrived in the evening, and I must go to 
the post office.
 John Clapham, �Dvoř�k�s unknown letters on his 
Symphonic Poems� in Music and Letters (1975, LVI: 277-287). Translation 
provided by Susan Reynolds.
 
 Anton�n Dvoř�k �s magnificent classics
 
 http://www.youtube.com/v/StluJPBLJfM
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jGXRJOmeqzc
 
 
 Here is the mini-film The Noon- Witch on youtube
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=csRvIUZ7TBY
 
 |  23 Nov 2010     
					
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 moravc
 
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							| The Noon Witch - ballad / poem by Karel Jarom�r Erben, Translation: Susan Reynolds By the bench there stood an infant,
 Screaming, screaming, 
loud and wild;
 �Can�t you just be quiet an instant?
 Hush, you nasty 
gipsy-child!
 
 Now it�s noon, or just about,
 Daddy�s coming home for 
dinner:
 While I cook, the fire�s gone out -
 All your fault, you little 
sinner!
 
 Hush! Your cart�s here, your hussar
 - Look, your cockerel! � Go 
on, play!�
 Crash, bang! Soldier, cock and cart
 To the corner fly away.
 
 Once again that fearful bellow -
 �May a hornet come and sting you!
 Hush,
 you naughty little fellow,
 Or the Noonday Witch I�ll bring you!
 
 Come 
for him, you Noonday Witch, then!
 Come and take this pest for me!�
 - In 
the door into the kitchen,
 Someone softly turns the key.
 
 Little, 
brown-skinned, strange of feature,
 On her head a kerchief pinned;
 With a
 stick � crook-legged creature,
 Voice that whistles like the wind!
 
 �Give
 that child here!�
 �Lord, forgive This sinner�s sins, my Saviour dear!�
 It�s a wonder she still lives,
 For see � the Noonday Witch is here!
 
 Silent as a shadow wreathes,
 The witch towards the table�s slipping:
 Mother, fearful, scarcely breathes,
 In her lap the child she�s gripping.
 
 Twisting round, she looks behind her -
 Poor, poor child � ah, what a 
fate!
 Closer creeps the witch to find her,
 Closer � now she�s there � 
too late!
 
 Now for him her hand is grasping -
 Tighter squeeze the 
mother�s arms:
 �For Christ�s precious torments!� gasping,
 She sinks 
senseless with alarm.
 
 Listen � one, two, three and more:
 The noonday 
bell is ringing clear;
 The handle clicks, and as the door
 Flies wide 
open, father�s here.
 
 Child clasped to her breast, he found,
 Lying in a 
faint, the mother;
 He could hardly bring her round,
 But the little one 
was � smothered.
 
 By the way ALL Czech kids know this "ballad" by heart! :-D Me too.
 
 |  23 Nov 2010     
					
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 crisholm
 
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							| I cannot envisage a most deserved prize! |  23 Nov 2010     
					
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