My theatre work started when I was studying art and architecture under Kandinsky, Klee and Gropius at the Bauhaus in Weimar in 1924. One day, Kurt Schmidt, rushing by, said: “Hey, Schawinsky! Come to my atelier tonight at eight!” When I arrived, several of his friends were already there. The gathering ended in a theatrical improvisation in which a hilarious group of characters danced, acted and exclaimed a lot of nonsense—Napoleon, Goethe, a dog, Frau von Stein, Voltaire, Bismarck. Rags, hats, umbrellas and other objects served as costumes and props. I was fascinated. It reminded me of my boyhood marionette and puppet theatre, but this, of course, was much more sophisticated.

The following day, Schmidt asked me if I would join in the preparation of a full-fledged stage performance. We met at the theatre workshop in the park. It was a large gothic pavilion that was empty except for a grand piano and an old armchair.