Theatermuseum Wien [LATEST]

(almost gently) Good. Then you’re beginning to understand.

(calmly) That’s Alma. 1927. She recorded it between performances of Jedermann . The wax cylinder is in case 14. The voice leaks. Always at this hour, when the sun hits the courtyard just right. She doesn’t know she’s dead. theatermuseum wien

(smiles thinly) Biography is the lie we tell to make death tidy. This— (touches the boot) —this is residue. The museum is not a mausoleum. It’s a drying rack for ghosts. (almost gently) Good

I came to understand why anyone would keep all this. theatermuseum wien

(not looking up) You’re not supposed to feel anything. That’s the mistake. You’re supposed to see .

See what? A dead man’s boots?

(hand still on the glass) I don’t mind.