I’ve waited long enough. It’s about time I enlightened you, Dear Reader(s), on the origin of my name. Assuming there’s more than one of you (or if, as I sometimes wonder, I only have one reader with multiple personality disorder and a bunch of fraudulent IP addresses, more than one of your identities) who’s speculated on or suspected about the subject, I will now illuminate.

The original Pannonica

The original Pannonica

Pannonica was the nickname of Baroness Nica de Koenigswarter, an expatriate of English and Hungarian descent who was a friend and patron of many New York jazz musicians from the 1950s to her death in 1988. Actually, consulting a biography I see now that Pannonica was part of her given name, which in full is Kathleen Annie Pannonica Rothschild. ‘Nica’ was the nickname, shortened from Pannonica.

Anyway, it seems her father, Charles Rothschild of the fabulously wealthy English banking dynasty, was an amateur entomologist who for whatever reason had an abiding interest in the flora and flora of the Pannonian Plain in central Europe. On this blog’s Képtár page can be found images of some of these plants and animals– their species or subspecies name, pannonica, means “of Pannonia.” The Pannonian Plain is the basin of the Pliocene Pannonian Sea, which was a separated section of the Paratethys Sea, which was in turn a subsystem of the Alps-Himalaya geomorphological system. Sciencey digression cribbed from Wikipedia. Without consulting some sort of arcane Hungarian dictionary, I can’t tell you where Pannonia comes from. So, anyway,  Chuck apparently thought it would be neat to acknowledge his passion in the naming of his daughter. His brother Victor became a baron, his nieces were granted daughter-of baron status and, just to seal the deal, Pannonica married a French diplomat named Baron Jules von Koenigswarter, making her I guess a double baroness.

Her suites, first at the Stanhope Hotel and later at the Bolivar Hotel, were the site of jam sessions and frequent visits from some of the most important jazz musicians of the era. She had particularly strong friendships with Charlie Parker (it was in her rooms that he died) and Thelonious Monk.


Simple yes-or-no, up-or-down, mustard-or-ketchup poll:

(Just so you know, I was tempted offer an “all of the above” third choice but I just know most people would have selected that one and the results would thus be so tainted that I’d have to wash my hands three times in a row.)