The second Piano Concerto by Johannes Kipfler, Opus 33 with sauce vierge.


Why do words lend themselves, at times, with associations totally removed from reality? You would never associate Kipfler with a potato; yet, I have no trouble in accepting he could have been a composer born in Leipzig, 1862. His mother thought he was a dear little boy and even at the age of two he already showed great promise when he started banging on his Blechtrommel. (Tin drum).

Gunter Grass has a timbre to his name that can only ever be associated with being a writer of words in a certain order. He wrote the Tin Drum. You would be hard pushed to respect a writer called ‘Essenfrescher’, would you?  Perhaps this is why in the world of the famous, especially movie-stars, names are sometimes perceived as hindering fame and are changed to a more appropriate sounding pseudo. I mean Boris Karloff could never have gotten there if he was called by his real name of William Pratt or Dean Martin as Dino Crocetti, Doris Day as Doris Kappelhoff.

Names can be fluid or grindingly rasping with associations far removed from what they stand for or are. I mean, I don’t think there are many still called Hitler. The telephone book in Germany or Austria reveals not a single person named Hitler anymore. Apparently his father did not like the sound of Schicklgruber and preferred Hitler. Even the name Schicklgruber is now rare, as is Goebbels etc.

So, what to make of words and names? Why is a name change perceived to add to possible achievements. If Bach was called Kohlrabi, would his music have found less acceptance? Who was it again with, “what’s in a name?” or, “That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” Shakespeare was destined to write brilliantly with a name like that. Mozart-Concert is so symbiotic in name. It had to happen.

Would Villa Lobos have written Bachianas if named Gauncho Pistachio? Who knows?

However, after my nonsense, what seems that what ‘is’ counts most and not the given name. Hmm, I am not so sure.

I went to get my hair cut last week and when I was asked how I want it cut, I said to the girl; “I would like to look a bit more like Justin Bieber”. “Can you do that?” Why? She said, a bit bewildered looking. Much to H’s embarrassment, I sometimes act stupidly convincing. I made it worse by saying; “I want to be mobbed by teen-age girls again”.

( I was only ever shunned by teenage girls) I then realized that my joke didn’t get traction and I recanted somewhat by saying. “Only joking”, “please cut it any way you like, perhaps as it was eight weeks ago’.”  “ Please, go for it, you cut so well,” I smarmed while surrendering totally to her comb and scissors.

She took her revenge at the end of the cut by asking very loudly; “what about your eyebrows, shall I trim them ‘somewhat”. The sting was in the ‘somewhat’ indicating my eyebrows were so verdantly overgrown it was more in need of weed-killer. Ah, old age is advancing especially in ear hairs and brows. It made me repent my Bieber remark. For days I was sulking over it. H reckoned it served me right and was secretly gloating.

Even so, Justin Bieber’s name wasn’t a hindrance to his genius, was it? Mind you his fame might well be waning. He was booed a couple of nights ago. Those sort of fames based on talent quests are so fickle, they come and go like falling stars, they light the scene for a second and fall spectacularly down into darkness to be forgotten forever.

Still, I sometimes secretly wish for a light mobbing by hordes of screaming teenage girls, after all those years. Grow up Mr Oosterman, your eyebrows are showing. Keep clinging to your wreckage.  🙂

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7 Responses to “The second Piano Concerto by Johannes Kipfler, Opus 33 with sauce vierge.”

  1. Lottie Nevin Says:

    Superb post Gerard. You had me snorting tea all over my laptop hehehe! A little bit of everything here, culture, humour, music, literature and of course your wonderful way with words.

    Don’t worry about the eyebrows, Irishman has just the same problem and hmmm so do I. I went to get them waxed the other day and the young man (yes young man, not young girl) said ‘Madam, would you like me to do your moustache as well?

    Things are clearly worse than I thought.

    I’ve got a great joke about name changes but it’s far too rude to put on here. I have a feeling that you would love it 😀


    • gerard oosterman Says:

      Good you snortled over your computer. The world can do with much more snortling. You have comforted me greatly with Irishman having brow bush problems as well. As for female moustaches; I’ll think about that one for a while.
      Great adventure again in the rimboe of Bali.


  2. paul walter Says:

    Young shop-girls are always a thorny proposition.
    And no, you don’t want to look like Bieber.
    You will be lynched by fair-minded people.
    You may covet his youth, maybe the fluff he pulls, but no one with an IQ above single digit wants to BE Justin Bieber.
    The tucker looked tasty, btw.
    Tony Curtis…Bernard Schwartz.
    And Kirk Douglas’s birth name is all but unspellable and unpronounceable.


    • gerard oosterman Says:

      Hi Paul;
      Shop-girls are a curse for the aged but more so when yielding scissors and razors. I went to a Fijian-Indian barber for a while who was always checking the racing ‘form’ and putting bets on while cutting my hair. A most unusual character..especially when his counter had cards with all those sort of wise sayings from the east. I suppose to instill confidence in his customers,… but with his horse-betting ways, it seemed a bit odd. Anyway I thought i would try another barber and ended up with a large franchise whose cutters seemed to be mainly young girls.
      C’est la vie.


  3. paul walter Says:

    My barber is a continental bloke with a little shop next to a Greek club where old fellows sit about smoking, paying cards and drinking coffee and maybe some sort of clear fluid out of small glasses.
    He uses his scissors quickly and effectively, except when he tries to fob me off to a trainee, then it will be lots of combing and little cutting.
    Last time he tried it, I sat in his chair and silently defied him to turn me over for further experimentation at the hands of the underling.
    The other thing is, he doesn’t charge like a wounded bull.


  4. kaytisweetlandrasmussen83 Says:

    You have a clever way with words Mr. Oosterman. Entertaining, informative and altogether enjoyable. I am the resident barber for the good doctor, and he has no hair to speak of. Maybe poor barbering?


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