copyright 2000   		 
WIELAND
(To the audience)
Five o'clock one May morning, in Geogre Grosz's studio at the south end of town, George and my borther Helmut begin to paste pictures together.

JOHNNY

(Drunk)
It should be simple really.  The world is fucked up.  We don't like it as it is.  Simple.  Take it apart.  Put it back together in an arrangement pleasing to us.  After all, we're artists.

GEORGE

(Drunk)
Drunk artisits.

JOHNNY

(Carefully cutting a bit of paper)
It's ve-e-r-r-y simple.  A small cut here and a snip snip there... oops.

GEORGE

Inebriated.

WIELAND

George, meeting you has been - a revelation!
(A glissando)
A cold shower!  Shocking, sobering, tingling, invigorating!

GEORGE

Not sobering, surely?

WIELAND

Let us swear a vow of eternal friendship!

GEORGE

All right, friendship forever.

JOHNNY

(Grasping their hands)
Or until death - whichever comes first.

WIELAND

Til now I think we thought, at least I think I thought, that art is that which makes beauty visible and audible.

GEORGE

And now you're not so sure?

WIELAND

Your art - makes truth visible.

JOHNNY

But it isn't enought just to make art, is it?

GEORGE

Isn't it?
(Thinks)
What else is there?

JOHNNY

There's the real world, ready to be... re-made.
(Music begins.)

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