Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Slawomir Mrozek
Hans Werner Kettenbach
Walter Nigg
Viktorija Tokarjewa
Joey Goebel
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Magdalen Nabb
Anthony McCarten
Donna Leon
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Tomi Ungerer
Magdalen Nabb
Ute Krause, Ute Krause (Ill.)
Magdalen Nabb
Magdalen Nabb
Magdalen Nabb
Magdalen Nabb
Magdalen Nabb
Magdalen Nabb
Tomi Ungerer
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Barbara Hazen, Tomi Ungerer, Tomi Ungerer (Ill.)
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Friedrich DĂĽrrenmatt
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Patricia Highsmith, Paul Ingendaay (Hg.)
Donna Leon
Hansjörg Schneider
Tomi Ungerer
Joey Goebel
Walter Muschg
Tomi Ungerer, Tomi Ungerer (Ill.)
Rolf Dobelli
John Vermeulen
Magdalen Nabb
If there was one thing which Karla and her family could do well, it was to make a noise. To make sure that they all had enough room to make a noise, they moved into a tall, narrow house in which each member of the family had a floor all to themselves. But the most interesting thing about the house was the attic, for it was there that Karla found a cello with which she could make the most wonderful noise! But that wasn’t all: at the very far end of the attic was a rusty door. When Karla finally managed to open it she found a wild garden watched over by a stone lion. The lion showed Karla a mysterious world: the world of silence and soft sounds.
»The fact that this subtle yet topical story comes across in such a cheerful and entertaining way owes much to Ute Krause’s splendid illustrations of her own text. At times the pictures are so breathtaking that one could easily imagine that the young Tomi Ungerer had a hand in them, and then suddenly one is reminded of Sempé or the wild romanticism of – well, of Ute Krause, of course.«Deutsche Welle