Burgtheater, Solingen (Jan 24th 2010)
It would be a mistake if the idea of being in a cul de sac, or Stra§e gespert (street closed), might give the impression of inaction.
After finishing the Bergische breakfast, we put on our coats and went outside. It was still snowing lightly as we walked past several craft shops selling knives, scissors and other blades of this city, which has long been famed for its fine sword-making skills, towards the inner courtyard of its ancient castle. Around the large doorway on the far side, a plastic arch shaped and designed as a theatre proscenium had been erected, with the single word 'Opera' at its apex in coloured letters. Going in, we found ourselves in a narrow hallway, in which were piled heaps of cardboard cut-out miniaturised sets, puppets and mechanical toys, as well as operatic musical scores, other sheet music, and racks of CDs of the kind which music shops typically have for sale. A sign at the end of the hallway indicated the way into the theatre, and with the permission of the owner-director we went in.
When Walter Benjamin's book Einbahnstrasse (One-way Street) was published in January 1928 as an anthology of kleine Forme (short forms, or 'small opera'), the front cover showed a busy city street with three large red framed arrows (with the word Einbahnstrasse in the middle) all pointing one-way to the right, and an empty pavement apart from a black dog sitting looking into a doorway which was also on the right.
Perhaps the direction of the arrows and way the dog was looking simply signify the way into the book by opening it, and it is true that the claim that Benjamin deliberately took his own life at the border between France and Spain in 1940 is now disputed. In the zone between street, private house and passagiata, the strong opiate he took was probably given for medical reasons.