A gray-black horizon. Twilight reveals horses grazing. Dark silhouettes of riders on a gently arched bridge, among stirring leaves. Monolithic shards of stone. Lonesome cowboys. A woman. And a guy who might be a philosopher, or at least an accountant. A bizarre building appears—half fort, half temple. Birds against the sky, sun behind trees. Sitting on the temple stairs, the philosopher bows his head. Clouds. The stereotypes of an American western against a background of Austrian Expressionism, in the form of Clemens Holzmeister’s crematorium in Vienna’s central cemetery and Fritz Wotruba’s