Flametti: oder vom Dandysmus der Armen

Flametti awakens in a cramped, gas‑lit flat, dressing with the precision of a stagehand while juggling ledgers for his rag‑tag variety troupe. He polishes his coat, lights a cigarette, and silently counts the meager earnings and debts owed to a jodeling family, a contortionist, and a “damenimitator,” all while his irritable housekeeper slides a weary tray of coffee through a narrow kitchen slit. The routine is a comic ritual of survival, a portrait of a self‑styled dandy trying to keep his low‑budget cabaret afloat in a city that seems indifferent to his ambitions.

Leaving the apartment, Flametti steps into the smoky alley behind the butchers’ hall, greeting a bored policeman with a brisk “Salü!” as he heads toward a tiny river lot he’s rented for rehearsals. Along the way he passes eccentric performers and the everyday bustle of a bustling metropolis, hinting at the chaotic creativity and financial tight‑ropes that will define his quest to turn poverty into a flamboyant spectacle.