Black Cat alley

In every city, there are hidden corners and alleys where time lingers a little longer, where memories gather like the last rays of the evening sun. Malmö has many such places, but for those who know where to look, some streets carry not only history but stories — whispered by old walls, echoed by pawprints on cobblestones, sung in forgotten choruses beneath the moon.

This is not just a tale about cats. It is a story about freedom, about being an outsider, about the restless pursuit of belonging. It is a story about those who refuse to be tamed, who forge their path even when the world tries to silence them.

Before we delve into the alleyways of Lilla Torg, before we hear the midnight song of the Malmö cats, we must start with a figure who embodies this spirit more than any other. She is the woman who moves like a shadow through Gotham’s and Malmö's nights, the thief, the rebel, the unbroken. She is Catwoman, a symbol of freedom and defiance.

And through her, we start to grasp the myth of the cat — and the magic that still lingers in the heart of Malmö. It's a magic that whispers through the alleys, dances in the moonlight, and weaves itself into the very fabric of the city, a magic that only those who truly understand the spirit of freedom can feel.

“Whiskers in the Wind

In every alley, shadows curl,
silent as secrets, swift as night.
Beneath the moon, forgotten pearls
glisten in eyes that burn so bright.

A whisper stirs the sleeping street,
a pawstep soft, a purr, a grin.
No leash, no master to repeat,
just fur and freedom wrapped within.

They do not beg, they do not bow,
their loyalty is earned, not sold.
Their hearts are fierce, their heads held proud,
their songs are sung in echoes bold.

And somewhere near, her shadow gleams,
a cloak, a tail, a stolen gleam.
Catwoman walks where stories blend —
In Malmö’s streets, where myths transcend.”
Malmö July 2025

Female Freedom, Identity, and the Queen of Grey Zones

Catwoman is one of the most complex figures in popular culture – as much a heroine as an anti-hero, and often a foe as an ally. She exists beyond the usual categories, constantly shifting roles and moral compasses, always with her purpose, voice, and path.

Her evolution is a captivating journey that started in 1940, with her debut in the very first issue of Batman. She was then recognised as “The Cat,” a glamorous jewel thief sporting a fluttering fur boa and sparkling jewels. This marked just the beginning of a transformation that saw Selina Kyle – Catwoman’s most renowned alter ego – change from a thief to a survivor, from a sex symbol to a feminist icon, and from a burglar to Batman’s equal.

Over the years, she has evolved from the Golden Age’s playful seductress, through the lively 1960s icon portrayed by Eartha Kitt and Julie Newmar, to Michelle Pfeiffer’s sensual yet scarred interpretation in *Batman Returns*, and Zoë Kravitz’s raw, queer-coded survivor in *The Batman*. Always with the cat as a metaphor – sleek, free, independent, unpredictable.

Her relationship with Batman remains central – attraction and conflict, respect and opposition, love and rivalry. She is the freedom he dares not embrace but can never stay away from. Their dance is eternal, a game between two souls caught between desire and duty.

Catwoman has become a symbol of female autonomy. She is not a female copy of male heroes but an expression of something uniquely her own – of resistance, of sensuality as power, of justice outside the law. In recent interpretations, she has also become a symbol of queer expression, of the ethical dilemmas in the grey zones, and of the strength to never let oneself be defined by anyone else.

But why begin with Catwoman when this is a tale about cats? Because Catwoman embodies the same mythic power found in every cat: independence, the right to refuse to belong, to walk one’s path, to stay true to oneself. Catwoman is humanity’s effort to capture the essence of the cat in human form.

And precisely for that reason, the trail now leads us to the real cats – to the small cat community in and around Lilla Torg in Malmö. This community, like Catwoman, embodies the same mythological force found in every cat: independence, the right to refuse to belong, to walk one's path, to be true to oneself. It is here, in this lively community, that magic, memories, and history still whisper along the cobbled alleyways. The cats of Malmö, like Catwoman, have inspired cultural works; their stories and songs echo through the works of Lloyd Webber and T.S. Eliot. That is where the genuine stories are, the songs that never quite fall silent, the songs that Webber and Eliot listened to before they created their works.

That is where we will pause, for here begins my narrative of the feline kingdom in Malmö – and why Cats, despite its association with Broadway and the West End, has always been, at its core, a story born in Malmö.

Memory from Black Cat’s Alley, a place that holds a significant role in Malmö's cultural scene.

As you enter the charming alley where Larochegatan meets Lilla Torg, you will be transported into Malmö’s captivating feline haven. The historic half-timbered houses lining the street have long been a refuge for cats, adding a distinctive charm to this ancient location.

I've heard from Munkustrap the younger that Lloyd Webber himself made a secret visit to Malmö in the late 1970s, exploring the feline world that inspired his creation of ‘Cats’, the musical. This feline world, a unique aspect of Malmö's culture, is a rich source of inspiration for many artistic works.

Memory! Memories! Who doesn’t have memories of Malmö? Those unfortunate souls who haven’t been here, of course. Strange folk. But the rest of us—yes. The lead song of ‘Cats’ can be heard every night in Malmö, in its original version. There’s just one problem: it never seems quite finished. The cats rehearse it again and again, unfortunately, without a conductor, so to the untrained ear it might sound a little chaotic. This was the part they sang the night I took their picture, adding a touch of mystery and curiosity to the experience.

“Touch me, it's so easy to leave me
All alone with my memory
Of my days in the sun
If you touch me
You'll understand what happiness is
Look, a new day has begun.”

Grizabella, the beauty, a recluse in the house to the right, is Malmö’s "Glamour Cat," the prima donna assoluta. Her magnificent voice, like a symphony of the night, echoes through the streets, bringing great delight to all the neighbours. By day, she's usually scattered across Malmö, actively involved in our community, keeping an eye on tourists who drop food outside restaurants and cafés. Someone’s got to keep the city clean and free from barking dogs.

Grizabella the beauty, a recluse in the house to the right, is Malmö’s “Glamour Cat,” the prima donna assoluta. Her magnificent voice, like a symphony of the night, echoes through the streets, bringing great delight to all the neighbours.

AnnaBella, a red queen with flame-coloured fur, is a flirtatious lady with an eye for me. She also has a fine voice and loves to sing ‘The Gumbie Cat’. Her playful nature and charming voice make her a beloved figure in our community.

Demeter is a skittish queen and an excellent performer — a mezzo-soprano who sings ‘Macavity’ alongside AnnaBella. Her performance is a sight to behold, with her graceful movements and powerful voice captivating the audience. What a girl!

Growltiger, now that’s a character—both a fierce pirate and a comic. Every year during Malmö’s late-July summer festival, you’ll find him at the front for the re-enactment of Greece’s battle for freedom, particularly the siege and burning of the Turkish flagship. If Growltiger were a Buddhist, he’d no doubt be Frans Suell in a past life.

Jemima, the black cat who crosses the alley further down, is a kind soul, always the first to welcome the newcomer Grizabella. No hint of racism or xenophobia there. She is our hope for the future.

Jennyanydots, the old Gumbie cat, with her nurturing nature, teaches the mice to sing instead of eating them—and also offers lessons in crochet and lace-making. Many others do eat them, so balance is preserved.

Macavity, with his cunning ways, slips in from the back — the Napoleon of Crime in Malmö and a notorious food thief. Some say he resembles Professor Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes’ greatest adversary. Beware of this infamous black cat!

Mr. Mistoffelees, the young tuxedo cat, possesses extraordinary magical powers, including the ability to cause the sun to set every evening. His abilities never fail to amaze, and he loves to dance with mice… and then eat them.

Munkustrap is the verbose narrator of the alley and my primary source of information. Without his great-great-great-great-grandfather, there would be no poems by T.S. Eliot, and certainly no musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber. What a terrible loss that would have been.

Skimbleshanks, the railway cat and dedicated environmentalist, is an active orange tabby who scolds tourists for littering, meowing until they tidy up. Good cat!

Mungojerrie always has muddy paws—one half of the notorious trashcan-robbing duo.

Rumpleteazer, the other half of the mischievous pair, specialises in opening rubbish bins and scattering their contents across the street.

Rum Tum Tugger is a charming and mischievous cat with moods that range from playful to philosophical. In a past life, he was Elvis Presley—so for those wondering where the King went, now you know. And yes, his voice remains as powerful as ever.

“If you offer him pheasant, he would rather have grouse.
If you put him in a house, he would much prefer a flat.
If you put him in a flat, then he’d rather have a house.
If you set him on a mouse, then he only wants a rat.
If you set him on a rat, then he’d rather chase a mouse.”

It’s their very own Jellicle Ball—every year, one lucky cat is chosen by the Glamour Cat herself for a new, freer life in the warm kitchens of Malmö. Their mystical acts under the moon and stars, which include mesmerising dances and enchanting songs, are a sight to behold, invoking a sense of wonder and fascination.

Further away, when the wind is favourable and the stars shimmer above the Turning Torso, it sometimes occurs that Mr. Mistoffelees himself appears. He climbs the twisting tower to reset the magical lights over the Öresund, or to whisper spells into the breeze, carrying secret feline messages across to Copenhagen.

And once each year, Munkustrap the younger claims that something strange occurs by the old fountain behind Stortorget. A quiet figure, larger and wiser than all the others, sits there silently—Old Deuteronomy himself, the ancient judge from the songs. He doesn’t speak. He listens to the heartbeat of the city and then vanishes before sunrise. Some say they've seen him whispering to the moon, or casting spells that make the water shimmer with a silver light. But these are just whispers, carried by the wind, and no one can say for sure what truly happens there.

Perhaps the strangest thing of all is this: neither Broadway nor the West End has ever acknowledged the cats of Malmö. No royalties have ever reached them, no mentions in posh playbills, no gala invitations. And yet every night, they continue to sing, to dance, to chase shadows, and to dream. Because here in Malmö, they know the truth: Cats were born among these cobbled alleys and lived their first enchanted nights beneath the old rooftops. Their presence is a part of the city's fabric, a thread that binds us all.

There are many more of these friends scattered around the city, from Triangeln to the suburbs. They watch over us humans, so please be kind to them. And if you see any villains trying to poison cats, make them eat the poison themselves.

Why not join our choir next week?