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73 „Antilope“, Höhe: 10 cm, Bimini-Modell 
Nr. 721, Kat.-Nr. 450, S. 342. - Wiener Privat 
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Aus der Londoner Zeit von Fritz Lampl stammt die Publikation „The Mystery of the 
Pink Elephants“ von Mary Maloney (Oxford University Press, 1945, S. 84, 85, 87). Die 
Autorin beschreibt darin den Glasbläser „Johann“ (alias Fritz Lampl) bei der Arbeit: 
If you have ever been in a carpenter's shop, or in any place where people make things by hand, 
you will have some idea of Johann’s workshop. The biggest thing in the room was a solid wooden 
work-table dose up under the window where it would get the best light. On it was a confusion of 
small tools and various lengths of coloured glass rods: Shell pink, rosy pink, strawberry pink; sea 
green, grass green, emerald green; pale sunlight yellow, yellow as deep as amber; blues and reds 
and mauves and browns, and if there is any other colour you can think of I am quite sure it was 
there too. Did I say it looked a confusion? - so I did - but Johann could have put his hand on any- 
thing he wanted in the wink of an eye, or with his eyes shut for that matter. But the thing that 
would have struck you most in the workshop was a little jet of flame that hissed out, with the 
strength of a viper’s tongue, from a narrow pipe fixed to the table. For the beautiful things which 
Johann made were of glass, yes, even the Pink Elephants, and, as Johann was to show the chil- 
dren later on, that little jet of flame was very important. . . First Johann turne.d up the flame and it 
hissed out with a most venomous sound; then he picked up a short piece of the glass and, hold- 
ing it delicately between his fingers and thumb, he put it right into the flame, all the time turning it 
skilfully between his fingers; never once was it still, and the brittle glass was turned into a glowing 
motten ball which looked as if it must sureiy melt away; but just at that instant Johann took the 
rod from the flame and, putting the other end to his Ups, he blew down it with soft regulär puffs 
until gradually the motten ball filled with air and became a bubble, as glowing and delicate as the 
finest soap-bubble that you have ever blown at bath time; but this one did not break and dis- 
appear; as it cooled it became again hard, clear, shining glass. Finally, Johann withdrew the rod 
from his lips and, picking up one of his small tools, he snapped the bubble cleanly away. . .