Wilson continues to draw, lost in absolute concentration, seemingly oblivious to everything around him. After an eternity, he raises his head. "This is how I think," he explains, holding aloft the pencil. He shows the group a drawing: a milk bottle with nails stuck all over it. "I thought I would have a screen over the stage with a film of someone driving nails into a milk bottle, but the milk doesn't run out."
Giacomo Manzoni, the befuddled composer, asks what the milk bottle means. "What does meaning mean?" returns the director. "I'm an artist, not a philosopher. I draw pictures. I don't draw meanings. The audience creates the meaning."
The composer continues to grumble. "But the scene takes place in a bordello. The audience won't know it's a bordello. That milk bottle doesn't have anything to do with my opera."
"You don't have to be in a bordello visually," Wilson shoots back. "This milk bottle is interesting to look at."
Versace stares blankly at the two men.
Nine months later, "Doktor Faustus" opens to roaring cheers.