A place, a road, a door, and some characters. Its simplicity, depth, comedy, and profound playfulness makes this one of my top Krazy Kat cartoons. To see the entire full-page comic, click here. Vladimir and Estragon are simply imitators!
Ignatz fashions himself a boomerang brick and shows it to Officer Pup. Ever mindful of Krazy’s welfare, Pup “get’s rid of it” by hurling it off a magic mesa. From that point, or even before, we know what will happen, and here it is in the image above.
Somehow, without explanation or comprehensible mechanism, the scene has shifted. This primal drama of love, longing, and anxiety is being played out…on a stage! See the boards, the curtains drawn aside, the lamp? And Ignatz, like the character in Bunuel’s Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie who suddenly realizes that the dinner party he is attending is in front of an audience, catches the situation and tries to apprise Krazy of it. “Pssst…let’s go!” Pup will suffer the dramatic consequences of the prologue, and they don’t want to be around for it.
As they make their escape, the theater seems to have disappeared, or is it always there? May I paraphrase Marlowe’s Mephistopholes in his response to Faust, who asks him, “Tell me, where is this place that men call hell?”
The Stage hath no limits, nor is circumscrib’d one self place; for where we are is our stage, and where this stage is, there must we ever be.
click image for full strip
From it’s completion in 1913 until about 1930, the Woolworth Building, funded by all those drugstore nickels and dimes across the country, was the world’s tallest. A “cathedral of commerce” it was promptly dubbed, and a monument it truly is. The entire facade is clad in white terracotta, intricately sculpted in a dizzying array of ornamental shapes. The lobby is a stunning melange of gothic and byzantine sytles, with gorgeous gold and azure blue mosaics. Every little piece of architectural furninture is created with brilliant gothic detail.
The structure was built quickly, and paid for in cash. Click on the drawing here, from The Building of Manhattan by Donald MacKay, to get a detailed view of the innovative foundations that hold it all up. (I heartily recommend this book for any urban infrastructure fanatics.) The topmost surface of the bedrock in Manhattan is not on an even plane; it dips and rises in folds. To some extent, this subsurface geology is responsible for the clustering of high-rises in midtown and downtown, with a relative slough in between. The bedrock on the Woolworth site was said to be deep, too deep to excavate the entire pit down that far, so the caisson tubes were sunk instead. Well, deep is a relative term, and what was deep in 1913 might not pose a problem today. Thus, I daily watch over the huge “bathtub” of the World Trade Center site, excavated down to bedrock. (See this post for a video a bedrock blast.)
Here are two views of the tower from the conference room where I work. Nowadays, here in the United States of Fear, you can no longer visit the lobby of this great building. Since 9/11, a sign posted on the sidewalk warns away tourists, and guards won’t let you in the door. Yep, I’m sure those Islamic terrorists are busy scouring the AIA Guide to NYC for landmarks to target.
The golden ball on a pedestal is on the top of the AT&T Building, the lobby of which is shown below. The building was erected in stages: in 1927 the Broadway portion, faced in white, severe and enormous Doric columns was finished. The entry is a vast space with the feel of a temple, and includes a memorial to the dead of WWI. The contrast with the Woolworth Building, just across the street, is extreme
And while we’re at it, here’s a Krazy Kat strip illustrating the need for gun control.