The week before we left, Der Film finally announced the founding of the Prana Film company, with a remaining capital of twenty thousand marks, the rest already having been spent. Two managers were named: Enrico Dieckmann, a merchant in Berlin-Lichterfelde, and Albin Grau, an artist/painter in Berlin. The name of the company was explained (the reference was to the Buddhist concept prana, “vital breath”) and attributed to Grau, who, we were informed, “reflects a great deal on the occult aspects of life.” Accompanying the announcement was a list of nine films (!) scheduled for production next year, each illustrated with a drawing of Grau’s. At the very bottom in small print we learned that directing Prana’s first production, Nosferatu, a Symphony of Horrors, would be one F. W Murnau. “Artistic direction”—apparently a separate category—would be handled by Albin Grau. “Together,” the announcement concluded with a wan and affecting flourish, “they propose to construct the film on new principles.”

We’re filming in Dolny’ Kubín for the scenes involving the inn in the Carpathians. A dismal, crooked little town perched like a tooth on a hill. Father would say, “What kind of work would take you to a place like this?” I imagine him, when people ask, answering only: “He’s in Slovakia.” H—would be pleased to hear me imagining Father’s thoughts, after all this estrangement.

The castle, Oravsky Zamok, is not far from town. Wagner discovered it months ago, and sent a postcard. It was built on the river Orava in the thirteenth century, high on a curiously hollowed-out rock. The most elevated part is a watchtower that overhangs the Orava by more than one hundred meters. The watchtower, shot against the light, will form the final image of the shadow of the vampire passing from the earth.

Tomorrow we begin shooting on the dilapidated terrace, with Wangenheim, who so far has had only useless ideas as to his portrayal of Hutter.

Still awake. This preparation, most of my life since December: how much does it avail me now?

We start with Hutter discovering the marks on his neck, writing Ellen. It will be in bright sunlight, against a ruined stone wall. We must make certain the vines have been cleared from the battlement. We must counter excess shadow with lamps. We must be ready should the weather not cooperate. If the terrace scene comes off we’ll go on to Hutter’s search for the coffin. After the arch I’ll pass in and do the stairway, to the right of where he sees the bolted door leading down …

Sleepless, I wander the corridors. Napoleon said he made his battle plans from the fighting spirit of his sleeping soldiers.