Yet another brief lecture from the charcoal-dust snorting professor: he asked for expression, seemed in love with the word, demanded expression, pitch-black and desperate, saw in Oskar the shattered image of humanity, an accusation, a challenge, a timeless expression of the madness of our century, and ended by thundering across the easels: ‘Don’t draw this cripple—slaughter him, crucify him, nail him to the paper with charcoal!’