Coming to the shop on saturday morning in a good temper in anticipation of a busy christmas Saturday I came here and found our christmas tree laying on the floor. lights destroyed. Very sad! First action I made:  I reinstalled the tree.

Good prepared we bought two light chains, so it is glooming again in the dark. But isn’t it sad, that somebody felt the need to break our nice tree? Especially in that time of the year. Is the stress level that high seeing the christmas holidays coming?

(pic form Marsupialia)

This beautiful luxury apartment is situated on the 2nd floor (lift) of a newly renovated Wilhelminian Style building in the Husemannstrasse at the famous Kollwitzplatz.

The Husemann Apartment provides :

• 3 Bedrooms with king-size, double, and single beds, respectively
• 2 Bath Rooms with shower and tub
• 1 Living Room
• 2 Studies; One has a comfortable sofa-bed for 2 person
• Balcony off master bedroom
• A very spacious modern fully equipped kitchen with cheery wood cabinets, and a table for eight people

Read more Husemann Apartment

They cannot be ignored any longer – the anarchists are demanding attention. 

Cars have been burning in Friedrichshain every night over the past few weeks due to police raids and the shutting down of ‘housing-projects’, buildings illegally occupied by anarchists and usually identified by graffiti or the black-and-red flags flying from their roofs or windows. In addition, on 3rd December anarchists attacked police stations, cars and government buildings in Berlin, coinciding with anarchist riots in Greece over the anniversary of the death of a 15 year old boy who was shot and killed by police one year ago. All this proved to be a bit too much for the Interior Senator of Berlin, Ehrhart Körting from the SPD, who further fuelled the fire on Wednesday by comparing the radical left to fascists. 

No doubt, as many an exasperated Berliner will tell you, especially around the 1st of May, when nothing short of a full blown war breaks out on the streets of Friedrichshain and Kreuzberg, these anarchists don’t really have any ideological purpose - just some vague sense that they are against everything in the world, a tendency toward violence and the knowledge that there is a scene for this kind of thing in Berlin. We’ve all seen the images of anarchists taking part in anti-capitalist riots whilst wearing Nike trainers, but there is also something unique about the anarchists of Berlin that is related to the city’s history. 

DDR architecture - blocks of flats

Most of the city’s artists, intellectuals and generally unruly types have traditionally lived in Prenzlauer Berg and Friedrichshain because this is where all the old houses are. In the 1970s the totalitarian communist state calculated that it would be cheaper to build brand new blocks of flats fully equipped with modern amenities rather than to renovate the old houses – which resulted in these beautiful buildings you can see in the photo. 

Consequently, lots of people moved out of their old apartments into brand new homes, leaving many of these old buildings empty. The people who replaced them and deliberately chose  to squat in these old flats with only one toilet per floor and no central heating or hot water, did so because they refused to have every aspect of their lives controlled by the state. 

To this day, these houses have not been renovated and the people living there are still sharing toilets and so on. There’s something admirable in that, as is there in being alternative in a country where people will stand at a crossing and wait for the green man to flash before they step out into the road even when there isn’t a single car in sight. It is also quite an achievement that the anarchists of Berlin set fire to so many cars that there’s a special website that keeps count of just how many Mercedes, BMWs, Audis and Volkswagens, are lost to them everyday. 

It’s a shame that these housing projects are being shut down in Friedrichshain- they make Berlin colourful and original.  Just as the DDR tried to dictate how people should live, the capitalist ideology is forcing itself on these buildings which will all eventually be renovated and occupied by richer, more agreeable types.  In Prenzlauer Berg this gentrification has already happened – the Bavarian and I are part of the new, trendy crowd that are replacing the alternative lot. The result? Prenzlauer Berg is boring. Most of the houses have been renovated and look the same – a classier and subtler homogenisation than the DDR blocks – but a homogenisation none the less. 

I think I might have to go and set a car on fire….

The Spiegal has a good Berlin squat eviction gallery, as does the Taggespiegal.

Hi all! Today I want to show you a nice christmas market just around the corner of Beuteltiere-shop: The “Lucia-Weihnachtsmarkt” at Kulturbrauerei Berlin. Kulturbrauerei itself is a big areal where a lot of cultural events are taking place. Its one of the few well-preserved monuments of industrial architecture from the end of the 19th Berlin Century. First it was a brewery and existed like this till 1967 after a longer “sleeping beauty”-period the richly decorated and ornate industrial-buildings were restored and a lot of creative business moved in. Especially the two big courts are the perfect surrounding for a warm and cosy christmas market in the middle of a flowering city. If you stay in Berlin these days you should go there once, it’s really nice. The opening hours are: Mo – Fr 15 to 22 and Sa – So 13 to 22 o’clock.

(pics by Jochen Loch, linked to their source)

This morning the New York times has an interesting article on real estate in our favorite city….”Berlin Real Estate holding firm”.

The banking crisis has left some wealthy Germans worried about leaving large amounts of money in their accounts or investing in stocks and shares. They have turned instead to bricks and mortar and a result has been increased sales to locals. This is a real change in a city where fewer than 15 percent of the 3.4 million residents own their homes.

Mr. Frank says he has noticed a change in the foreigners now coming to Berlin: “There are more entrepreneur types arriving, more people setting up businesses, especially Internet start-ups.”

Still, most large corporations have not relocated to Berlin from Munich, Hamburg and other cities, much to the disappointment of the capital’s administration.

Der Abend war bis vorhin ruhig, ein paar E-Mails wurden noch getippt. Dann drängte sich ein Schwall von Stimmen in die Wohnung und ich fragte mich, was draußen denn los ist. Auf den (qualitativ minderwertigen) Fotos (s.u.) könnt ihr sehen, dass ein Protestzug von ein paar Hundert in Schwarz gehüllten Linken die Schönhauser Allee in Prenzlauer Berg hinab zog. Dass ich ihren Schlachtruf trotz Chortöne akustisch kaum verstehen konnte, lag wohl an der Kolonne an Polizeifahrzeugen, die im Schritt-Tempo direkt hinter und seitlich der Demonstranten für einen ruhigen Verlauf sorgten. Auch Hubschrauber kreisen gerade noch tief über den Kiez. Berlin ist vorsichtig geworden.

Ähnliche Demos erlebte ich schon in den letzten zwei Tagen in Prenzl’ Berg, als ich mit dem Auto in einem Stau stand: Rechts von mir plötzlich rennende und grölende Linke in Schwarz. Links marschierten im Eilschritt Polizisten in Schutzuniformen mit Helmen heran. Ganze Seitenstraßen waren leer und unter den Augen der Polizei abgeriegelt  und mit großen Scheinwerfern belichtet. Ich war froh, als der Stau sich schnell wieder auflöste und viele Autofahrer (sichtlich nervös) aus dem Brennpunkt fuhren.

Generell sei gesagt, dass alle Deutschen das Recht haben, “sich ohne Anmeldung oder Erlaubnis friedlich und ohne Waffen zu versammeln. Für Versammlungen unter freiem Himmel kann dieses Recht durch Gesetz oder auf Grund eines Gesetzes beschränkt werden.” (Artikel 8 unseres Grundgesetzes). Dies wird es durch das so genannte Versammlungsgesetz. Demnach kann eine Demo u.a. nur dann von der Polizei aufgelöst werden, wenn sie …

• nicht angemeldet wurde (ausgenommen Spontandemonstrationen)
• von den Angaben in ihrer Anmeldung abweicht
• gegen gesetzte Auflagen verstößt
• zuvor verboten wurde.

Was die Linken scheinbar oder vorsätzlich nicht wissen, ist, dass sie sich durch das häufige Vermummen strafbar machen (siehe dazu § 17 im Versammlungsgesetz). Demonstrieren ja – dann aber auch das Gesicht zeigen und für das stehen, wofür man demonstriert!

Vom Inhalt der heutigen Demo kann man sagen, dass die Linken nach eigener Aussage “gegen Staat, Nation und Kapital” sind (BZ-Artikel). Vorschläge wofür sie sind, wurden nicht kundgetan. Schade eigentlich, wenn man schon eine Demo veranstaltet. Ich will alle anderen Menschen dieses Landes dazu ermuntern, ihr Recht auf Versammlungsfreiheit friedlich und konstruktiv zu nutzen. Denn gerade dieses Recht wird vom (oft aus dem linken Lager verpönten) Grundgesetz  gewährleistet, um dem souveränen Volk einen Kanal zur aktiven politischen Partizipationsmöglichkeit zu bieten. Für mich ein ganz persönlicher Grund, dem 60. Geburtstag unserer Verfassung einmal mehr Aufmerksamkeit zu schenken.

Desde hace unos días salgo cada mañana a la “difícil tarea” de elegir un café donde sentarme a estudiar. Y digo difìcil tarea porque si hay algo que puedes encontrar por todo Berlín son cafés de todos tipos: cutres sin estilo, glamourosos (los menos), bohemios alternativos (muy abundantes), cafés de barrios en los cuales familias con niños toma el kuchen (tarta) y disfrutan de los helados en verano. Algo tiene Berlín que hace de estos cafés lugares muy acogedores, donde puedes pasar horas y horas sin querer moverte de allí con el consecuente resultado para el bolsillo y la figura (yo nunca puedo resistirme a probar cuanta tarta hay). 

Pues bien, mientras buscaba qué café invadir hoy cual okupa con mis libros, cuaderno, bolis, kleenex y demás, me fijé que del otoño queda bien poco y si hace dos semanas salir a la calle era un espectáculo de color otoñal ahora de ello no que más que los restos pues cual migajas tras un gran banquete lo que hay es un extenso manto de hojas secas en las calles y aceras que parecen esperar a que alguien las recoja o a que el viento se las lleve a un lugar muy lejano. Estos días hace un viento potente, frío, que nos avisa que el otoño termina y que quizá en una semana damos la bienvenida al gélido invierno berlinés.

Pero eso aún no ha pasado y mientras escribo esto miro las ramas peladas de los árboles agitarse de un lado a otro, y veo a la hojarasca moverse cual remolino, pero me siento a salvo de todo eso mientras estoy sentada tomando un café en la Hufelandstr.

Normalmente nunca vengo por aquí, y eso que esta parte de Prenzlauer Berg es preciosa, con sus calles adoquinadas, sus edificios antiguos de cuatro alturas, todos bien pintaditos y cuidados, y sus tiendas recoletas, la mayoría de adornos para la casa hechos en talleres berlineses, manualidades de gran delicadeya pero algo caras por ser producción artesanal. También hay algunas librerías bien interesantes, creo que es en la Marienburgerstr. donde hay una librería de libros en inglés que es una maravilla, ahí es donde quiero comprarme A time of gifts de Patrick Leigh Fermor, un libro que un amigo al que no conozco (suena raro no?) me ha recomendado encarecidamente. Ahora que trabajo puedo permitirme el lujo de comprar libros nuevamente.

A los cafés de Prenzlauer les pega la música de Yann Tiersen, sé que suena rebuscado pero es así. Me encanta Tiersen y tengo bastante música suya en el móvil, no sólo las bandas sonoras de Amélie o de Good Bye Lenin! (que para mí es la música de Friedrichshain), también sus canciones de C’etat ici o de Tout est Calme, piezas preciosas para escuchar mientras recorro el barrio con mi bici, es algo muy personal, y no sé si seré capaz de explicarlo bien, pero cuando voy por estas calles de “mi barrio” oyendo a Tiersen, creo en el destino, en que tenía que venir aquí a descubrir cuán feliz se puede ser sólo por el hecho de estar enamorada de una ciudad.

Berlín puede ser pobre, desesperante a la hora de encontrar trabajo, frustante por las pocas expectativas profesionales que me ofrece, pagadora de míseros sueldos, pero todo ello lo olvido cuando salgo a la calle y vuelvo a ver esta gran urbe que a veces parece sólo un barrio inmenso.

Teufelszeug!

Plakat zum 20. Jahrestag des Mauerfalls in Prenzlauer Berg

Die Berliner Medienlandschaft von BILD bis Freitag rätselt seit ein paar Tagen, wer wohl hinter den Ost-West-Spaltungsplakaten von Prenzlauer Berg stecken mag. Nach Antischwaben-Plakaten in den vergangen Jahren tauchten zum 20 .Jahrestag des Mauerfalls Plakate mit der Aufschrift: “Wir sind ein Volk – Und ihr ein anderes” auf. Insbesondere von konservativen Medien als Affront gegen die glückseeligen Einheitsfeierlichkeiten zum Mauerfall empfunden, war schnell von “Hassplakaten” die Rede.

Insbesondere die Verbindung von Ost-West-Herkunftsfragen mit den Entwicklungen in Prenzlauer Berg dürften doch nun 20 Jahre nach der Wende kein Thema mehr sein und nur noch von ewig Gestrigen ausgegraben werden – so in etwa die Argumentation im Berliner Blätterwald.

Nun hat ausgerechnet der für seinen fast schmerzhaften Sanftmut gegenüber allen ostdeutschen Dominanzerfahrungen mit dem Westen bekannte Wolfgang Thierse in einem Radio-Interview die westdeutschen Eigentumserwerber für die Verdrängungsprozesse in Prenzlauer Berg verantwortlich gemacht.

Beim WDR-5-Radio gab es heute in der Reihe “Platz der Republik” einen kurzen Beitrag zu den Aufwertungen in Prenzlauer Berg: “Hip, chic, für viele unbezahlbar: Der Prenzlauer Berg” (ein Beitrag von Anja Köhler). Hier gibt es den Podcast, der Beitrag zu Prenzlauer Berg ist von Minute 14:30 bis 19:45 min an zu hören.

Wolfgang Thierse – der noch länger am Kollwitzplatz wohnt, als er im Bundestag vertreten ist -  kommt zu Wort und will zwar den ‘alten Zeiten’ nicht hinterhertrauern, findet es aber auch nicht in Ordnung, wenn Eltern aus Stuttgart, München oder Hamburg ihren mehr oder weniger mißratenen Kindern eine Eigentumswohnung kaufen. Dies würde schließlich die Preise hier verderben und die Mieten ‘künstlich’ in die Höhe schnellen lassen. Mal abgesehen von der etwas naiven Vorstellung vom Immobilienmarkt, eine erstaunliches Statement angsichts der gerade mal wieder aufflammenden Ost-West-Debatte in Prenzlauer Berg:

Wolfgang Thierse: “Was immer ärgerlich und problematisch war, ist der Umstand dass dann eben doch vermögende Leute aus Stuttgart, München, Hamburg oder wo immer für ihre geratenen oder mißratenen Söhne und Töchter da  in Prenzlauer Berg Eigentumswohnungen kaufen – fast zu jedem Preis. Das ist eine unangenehme und ungesunde Entwicklung, weil sie ein künstliche Steigerung von Mieten und Wohnungspreisen erzeugt.” (16:20-16:48 min)

Viel  schöner hätten es die Plakatkleber/innen sicher auch nicht sagen können.

Bild: Fenster zum Hof

Im Sommer 1968 kam es in den US-amerikanischen Großstädten  Miami, Chicago, Seattle, Little Rock und in Watts, dem schwarzen Wohnviertel von Los Angeles, nach einer Gedenkfeier für die Opfer der Rassenkrawalle von 1965 zu blutigen Unruhen mit zwei Toten und zahlreichen Verletzten.

Jetzt, 2009, tauchen im Berliner Nobelviertel Prenzlauer Berg Plakate auf, die bedenklich stimmen. Das heutige Nobelviertel Prenzlauer Berg wurde luxussaniert. Dort stehen Häuser aus der Gründerzeit mit riesigen Wohnungen. Diese Häuser waren heruntergekommen in der ausgehenden DDR und zum guten Teil bewohnt von der kritischen Intelligenzija. Nach der Wende sickerten mehr und mehr “Angehörige des Volkes der Bayern und Angehörige des Volkes der Schwaben” in die luxussanierten Häuser. Die Wohnungen wurden entweder als Eigentumswohnungen für schweres Geld verkauft oder/und die Mieten stiegen kolossal an. Alteingesessene konnten sich die Mieten nicht mehr leisten und gingen. In Maklerkreisen nennt man diesen Vorgang “Gentrification”.

Die Plakate scheinen als Urheber die Ureinwohner zu haben, die Autochthonen – einige existieren noch von den Alteingesessenen. Auf den Plakaten liest man:

Wir sind ein Volk. Und ihr seid ein anderes. Ostberlin 9. November 2009.”

Tagesspiegel:

Prenzlauer Berg: Zugezogenen-Bashing geht wieder los

Muss sich die “Rasse der Bayern” und die “Rasse der Schwaben” nun fürchten im Szenebezirk Przl’berg? Haben die Völker der Bajuwaren und der Schwaben nicht schon längst rein numerisch im Prenzl’berg die Oberhand? Muss sich also das Volk der Ureinwohner fürchten? Kommen alte längst überwunden geglaubte Fehlurteile wieder in die Köpfe? Erlebt das vergessen geglaubte bayerische Schnaderhüpferl

“Heit auf d’Nacht wern die Preissn g’schlacht!”

wieder eine Renaissance?

(Es erscheint als nicht unproblematisch zu sprechen von”der Rasse der Bayern” oder “der Rasse der Schwaben”. Dafür sprechen könnte der manchen bekannte Begriff der “rassigen Münchnerin”. [Daß Herr Mick Jagger von den Rolling Stones die Münchnerinnen sehr lobte erwähne ich hier nur am Rande und ohne Quellenangabe, er drückte sich nämlich sehr klar, direkt und verständlich aus und sagte ganz konkret was er meinte, inhaltlich jedenfalls war es als großes Lob gemeint.] Hier könnte es Futter geben für Soziologen, Ethnologen, Püsschologen, Politologen: Sie können in ihren Uni-Arbeiten herumhirnen wie berechtigt oder unberechtigt der Begriff Rasse bezogen auf Baiern oder Schwobn ist. Ich als Astrologe erkläre dezidiert: Es ist ein kompletter Blödsinn von den Baiern oder Schwaben als Rasse zu sprechen.)

Zur Illustration ein nicht politisch korrekter “Witz”. Über so etwas lachte man in den 1950-ern in Bayern:

Bayern. Tochter, 16, zum Vater: “Du Papa, ich muss dir was Schreckliches sagen!”

Vater: “Hm.”

Tochter: “Du Papa, i bin schwanger.”

Vater: “Na und?”

Tochter: “Ja Papa, aber weisst von wem?”

Vater: “Nah.”

Tochter: “Du, Papa, es ist so schrecklich”"

Vater: “Etz sags schon.”

Tochter: “Papa, der Vater von meim Kind is a Neger.”

Vater: “Na und? GOTTSEIDANK! Ich hob schon denkt es is’ a Preiss!”

Wer wünscht sich das nicht. Letztes Wochenende ist dieser Wunsch überraschend in Erfüllung gegangen: in Berlin! Ein kleines Weinrestaurant namens “Weinerei” arbeitet seit vielen Jahren erfolgreich mit diesem Konzept. Das funktioniert so: Man kauft sich zu Beginn für zwei Euro ein Weinglas und bezahlt für Essen (3-Gänge-Menü) und Trinken, was einem der Besuch subjektiv wert war.

Heimat der Lokalität  ist das “In-Viertel” Prenzlauer Berg. “Erfolgreich” heißt in diesem Zusammenhang dann auch, dass sich die Besitzer vom Erlös über Wasser halten können. Dabei geht es nicht um Umsatzziele und Rendite, sondern darum, am Ende des Tages mit einem guten Gefühl aus dem Laden zu gehen – eben mit der Gewissheit, seinen Gästen eine gute Zeit bereitet zu haben. Eine wahrlich idealistische Vorstellung – die hier aber funktioniert.

Berlin, speziell der Kiez Prenzlauer Berg, ist wohl einer der wenigen Orte in Deutschland mit einer Subkultur und Rahmenbedingungen, die solche Highlights ermöglichen. Übrigens bezahlt man meiner Ansicht nach tendenziell mehr als man letztlich verbraucht. Ich habe beispielsweise für zwei Gläser Wein, Wasser und das Menü 20 Euro ins Kässchen geworfen. Zumindest dürfte dies für die Mehrzahl der auswärtigen Gäste zutreffen – vor allem, wenn man Münchner Preise gewohnt ist.

Nett hier.

Quand je craque, je claque ! Cela me remonte immédiatement le moral : le simple fait de me délester des euros que je n’ai pas encore gagnés me donne la grisante impression de vivre dangereusement. Moins j’ai d’argent, plus j’en dépense. Et puis, avec l’automne qui a recouvert Berlin, le gris m’étouffe et la nuit tombe comme le plomb à 16h. Histoire me requinquer, je décide de visiter le plus vieux cimetière juif de Prenzlauer Berg en écoutant les Doors. Le gardien est un charmant vieux monsieur qui lit Kafka sous sa kippa.

Je me balade ensuite le nez au vent sur la Schönhauser Allee. Sous la flotte, novembre oblige.  Je n’ai besoin de rien, surtout pas de consommer, au risque d’engraisser mon banquier. Par pur esprit de contradiction avec mon instinct radasse, je m’arrête dans une boutique vintage, en tâtant les fourrures et les longues vestes en mouton retourné. Tiens donc, alors que j’ai trois manteaux qui dorment dans ma penderie, pourquoi ne pas m’en racheter un pour l’hiver qui s’annonce ? Ras-le-bol de marcher des heures dans le froid berlinois, en grelottant.  J’essaye plusieurs modèles : trop verdâtre, pas bon pour mon teint de navet anémique, trop militaire, mauvais pour mes penchants dictatoriaux, trop de poils, redhibitoire pour mon hirsutisme génétique. Tapie dans le fonds du magasin devant un miroir flou, je finis par me faire harponner par un vendeur en survêtement, mielleux à souhait. « Z’avez rien de plus court ? Un mini-paletot ? » que j’ergote, rendue suspicieuse par son air bienveillant. En général, le Berlinois lambda aboie.

Comme s’il ne comprenait pas mon allemand balbutiant, Frère sourire me tend un manteau aux tons brun usés, qui m’arrive à mi-mollet. Tellement lourd que j’ai quasiment des courbatures en l’enfilant. Ladite pelisse me va pas mal, je ressemble à une babouchka ukrainienne sur un marché de Kiev. Le col en fourrure est énorme, je m’endormirais bien dedans. La couleur est pas mal mais le paletot reste très seventies, trop babos. Il a même ces fichus bouclettes au bout des manches et en bas. Complètement démodé. Très rétro. En même temps, l’hiver à Berlin, ça pèle. « Il est fait pour vous, avec vos yeux marrons, merveilleux, vraiment. Dans un mois, vous viendrez me remercier tellement il est chaud. Vous pourriez même être nue dessous. » Tu parles d’un argument de vente, Karl !

Je n’ai pas l’habitude de porter du long, c’est comme les talons : comme je marche trop vite, à grandes enjambées, je me vautre régulièrement sur les pavés berlinois. Avec ce tapis sur le dos, je vais me prendre les pieds dedans, c’est assuré, et si possible sur la Castanienallee, rebaptisée ici “Casting Allee” à cause du défilé permanent de branchés locaux. Je me tortille en transpirant sous la toison. « Vous êtes si belle, tout vous va ! », poétise le camelot. Je ressemble à un travelo perdu, loin de ma toundra natale. Il est vraiment bon ce cochon. Je sais que ne le mettrai jamais ce manteau « guerre et paix ». Suis pas Russe mais Française. Je négocie sec, un prix exorbitant. Je sens l’arnaque à plein nez. Et bien pourtant, je l’achète. Je L’ACHETE ! Je paie avec ma carte bleue ! Je tapote mon code ! J’expérimente en direct une altération de ma conscience. Et je souris en plus, à ce voleur ! La pelisse ira rejoindre les talons aiguilles et les porte-jarretelles dans le tiroir des méga-fashion faux pas. Quelle über-gourde je fais ! Maintenant, je dois trouver un tailleur ou me taire à jamais.

Heute soll es Bigosch sein. Ein polnischer Eintopf der nach Aufwärmung immer besser schmecken soll. Ich beziehe hier mein Wissen aus einem Gespräch vom legendärsten Koch der Lottumstraße Jacek.

Falls auch ihr diesen Gaumenschmaus der Superlativen erfahren möchtet, dann erscheint um 21:00 Uhr im Freudenhaus (Lottumstraße 9 in 10119 Berlin).

Guten Appetit!

Das Papa Nô zählt in Berlin zu den meistbesuchten Sushi-Restaurants. Dabei ist die Gästeschaft ganz verschieden: trifft man in der Location in Friedrichshain eher den lässigen Studenten mit kleinem Geldbeutel und großem Hunger, sieht man in Prenzl´berg eher betuchte Leute mit Hang zum Außergewöhnlichen, auch beim Essen, an den Tischen angeregt plaudern.  Letzteres mag daran liegen, dass das Papa Nô hier über ein stilechtes und traditionelles Tatami-Zimmer verfügt, einen typischen japanischen Wohnraum. Schuhe ausziehen gehört also zum kulinarischen Erlebnis dazu! Angewandte Wokkultur – so bezeichnet man im Restaurant die eigenen kulinarischen Streifzüge durch die asiatischen Küchen. Auch über japanische Tischsitten weiß man Bescheid. Eine Kostprobe der angewandten Sushikunst ist die Auktion “Sushi de luxe” für 2 Studierende – aber natürlich auch für Prenzlauer BergerInnen, die sich mal nach Friedrichshain verirren (dessen Gastro-Szene und Kiez-Coolness, by the way, vielfach unterschätzt wird!)

Guten Appetit – oder die Frage: Wie heißt es auf Japanisch?

«Oggi qui a Berlino c’è un gran caos, ed è anche normale viste le celebrazioni ma nella realtà di tutti i giorni Berlino è una città tranquilla, quasi vuota. In questi giorni è piena di turisti che vogliono rivivere quell’evento, perchè lo sentono molto. Ci sono molti italiani, tempo fa era raro vederli qui, ma si vede che c’è qualcosa di nuovo». La conosce bene Berlino, Angelo Bolaffi, filosofo della politica e germanista, attualmente Direttore dell’Istituto di Cultura Italiana di Berlino. Ne è entusiasta, anche perchè sente che l’attenzione internazionale sulla città sta cambiando, e forse l’ennesimo appuntamento con la Storia può essere un alibi: «Parlare del muro è la scusa per parlare della Berlino che sarà, una New York del futuro. Oggi c’è una generazione di ventenni tedeschi che non hanno mai visto il Muro. Il decennale non aveva avuto questa intensità nelle celebrazioni. Oggi Berlino è una città nuova e la capitale. E i festeggiamenti di oggi coincidono con la metamorfosi di Berlino. A Berlino si respira atmosfera. Passato e futuro».

Ma il passato è solo quello del Muro? «No, Berlino oggi si vede ritornare agli anni 20 e 30, ai suoi massimi apici, quando era capitale d’Europa e una città moderna per eccellenza». Eppure la città che oggi agli occhi di tutti appare come un elogio del work in progress, con cantieri aperti ovunque in pieno centro che restituiscono un senso di progettualità e non di speculazione, non ha avuto vita facile nell’immaginario di più di una generazione impegnata. «Berlino ci son stato con Bonetti, era un po` triste, molto grande» cantava nel 1977 Lucio Dalla in Disperato Erotico Stomp. Oggi molte personalità della cultura corrono a reinventarsi testimoni di quell’89: «Adesso c’è un opportunismo turistico, “tutti a Berlino!”. Ma Berlino non si scopre ora. Comunque meglio tardi che mai. L’italia è anche questa». Per molti under 40, Berlino significa invece musica elettronica: «La musica elettronica è stata fondamentale, ha attirato moltissimi giovani. Ma mettiamo in conto la lingua, che non viene insegnata come l’inglese o il francese, e poi Berlino geograficamente è molto lontana. Inoltre era divisa. E ancora, rispetto a Colonia o Francoforte, non era una delle città della classica immigrazione italiana. E anche come meta turistica non è propriamente una città da andare a vedere, non è Parigi, con il classico turismo. Oggi certamente è una città dei musei, ma non museale, a differenza di molte altre. Perchè Berlino è una città che si traforma continuamente».

Una città che nutre ambizioni, oltre la ricostruzione? «Sì, Berlino ha qualcosa in più, ricorda New York in versione Europa ma più economica, e infatti è diventata la capitale di chi ricerca, e si muove verso una esperienza nuova, d’avanguardia. A Berlino non si vende l’arte, ma si inventa l’arte. La città è piena di atelier e buchi attrezzati come laboratori. Intorno a Berlino c’è stato un passaparola, particolarmente in Italia. Perchè c’è una forte delusione per la nostra realtà nazionale. Per la difficoltà di lavorare, dei costi, del trovare atelier. Come fa un giovane a Milano o a Roma? Qui ottiene spazio con pochi soldi e soprattutto trova degli interlocutori. È un fatto». Berlino anche economicamente è così forte? «No, anzi. Si mantiene povera, per gravi problemi sociali. Düsseldorf, Colonia, sono citta diverse da questa città bohémien dove le case costano poco ma ci sono grandi problemi di integrazioni, forti tensioni giovanili. La situazione qui non è riappacificata ma vale per tutti, giovani e non. È una città dura proprio come come New York, mentre la ricchezza sta nella cintura del sole: Monaco, Colonia, Stoccarda».

Chi investe a Berlino? «Molti stranieri, ma ovviamente per gli effetti ci vuole del tempo. Quando l’aeroporto di Schönefeld verrà terminato nel 2012, sarà il più grande d’Europa. È stata a lungo sovvenzionata da tutte e due le parti, est e ovest, ma è rimasta improduttiva. Però si continua a costruire. Se c’è un paragone è con Shangai, perchè anche lì nascono palazzi in due mesi. A Berlino si lavora 24h, è una città frenetica, che vuole recuperare il tempo perduto. Non è stata saccheggiata col dopo Muro, come Roma con i palazzinari del dopoguerra. Il saccheggio è avvenuto con le ricostruzioni ideologiche, più che dai bombardamenti. È stata spianata per dire “noi non c’entriamo più nulla”. Ma quale città d’Europa offre degli spazi così in pieno centro? Berlino è un labiratorio». Anche per

Eraldo Affinati, insegnante alla Città dei Ragazzi, scrittore e autore di una guida personale alla città, Berlin (Rizzoli), molto legato alla capitale tedesca, «i giovani vanno a Berlino come un tempo si andava a Roma e Parigi. È una nuova Europa, piena di energia, che può insegnare. Molti italiani comprano case a Berlino perchè percepiscono una praticabilità rapidità dello scambio, senza lungaggini burocratiche, insomma la sensazione emotiva che possano essere superati». Quanto è cambiata? «Molto, quando ci andai prima del crollo del Muro, sembrava esserci una divisione tra un mondo a colori e uno in bianco e nero. Oggi continua a cambiare giorno dopo giorno, è un laboratorio antropologico, e anche una fortissima risposta al delirio di Adolf Hitler».

È possibile dire che è stata una città nascosta alle generazioni più politicizzate? «Forse. Di sicuro è stata una città a rischio di ideologia, destra e sinistra, rossi e neri, tutte categorie inadeguate per comprendere la realtà di Berlino. Vecchi schemi del 900 che hanno rappresentato una zavorra per molti. La nostra versione di Berlino era vederla crescere come una pianta fuori dal fusto, imprevedibile. Così ci siamo accorti che per sentirne il fascino anche dovevi superarne gli schemi. I giovani sono al di là di questi schemi. Andare a Berlino è come andare in Nuova Guinea. Qui da noi abbiamo molte paure da abbattere. Lì si stanno superando questi ostacoli. Lavorando alla Città dei Ragazzi, tutti nati nell’ 89, e di altre nazionalità e continenti, ho capito che questi ragazzi hanno superato tutti i muri venendo a Roma. Dobbiamo superare i muri della nostra identità.». È d’accordo con chi dice che queste celebrazioni sono quasi un pretesto? «Sì, Berlino è la città del futuro, qui buttano giù i palazzi e li rifanno subito».

Die 100 besten Kracher des Jahrhunderts wurden abgespielt, auch nicht alle und nicht nummeriert.

November 9th is a complicated day in German history. In addition to marking the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, it was also the day in 1938 when Nazi-led mobs attacked synagogues, Jewish businesses and Jews on the streets of Germany. In 1918, it was the day the Weimar Republic was founded and in 1848, it was the day the last of the German revolutionaries of the 1848 revolutions was executed, marking an end to Germans’ first attempts at creating a constitutional government. That’s German history for you, the highs are stratospheric, the lows hellish.

While there is plenty of coverage of the day, including some of my own, I’d like to share one story, told to me by a neighbor.

She and her husband have lived on my street for 42 years, when the neighborhood, Prenzlauer Berg, was in such disrepair that balconies often collapsed without warning. Many buildings were still heated by coal and bathrooms were often shared between several apartments.

In the fall of 1989 one of their two daughters fled to the West via Hungary, like so many East Germans did that autumn, precipitating the regime’s collapse. The second daughter had remained and was barely out of school, just 19 or 20. It was early November and suddenly, perhaps like any teenager, she wanted an apartment of her own.

She went with her mother to the nearby office that doled out apartments to see if one was available but none were even though there were dozens of empty apartments nearby because so many people had left the country in the past few weeks. They leave the office and the daughter turns to her mother and said, “Mother, this is the last straw, I’m going to the West, too. I just can’t be here.”

The mother looked at me while telling this story and said, “I had just lost one daughter a few weeks before and didn’t know if I would ever see her again. And then my other daughter says she wants to go to the West too. Because she couldn’t get an apartment. It was the worst day of my life.”

The mother walked back into the housing office. One of the women working there was an acquaintance and sees that the mother is near tears and pulls her aside to ask what’s wrong. The mother explains and the housing woman says, “I can take care of this.”

She goes into a back office and returns a few minutes later with a key, saying, “This one will work.” The mother goes outside and gives the key to her daughter, who’s overjoyed about the apartment and stops talking about going West. It was November 7, 1989.

Two days later, it’s all irrelevant, the mother tells me, the Wall is gone and the fear that families could be separated, never to reunite again, is gone. And she says that day, November 9, 1989, was one of the happiest days of her life, not just because they could travel freely, but because her newly shattered family was made whole once again.

Reality

Rather than ruminate on how long it’s been since I last posted on this forum (17 days – I’ve been spending my “writing block” on translation projects, my dissertation and a filmography for a book), I will elaborate on a few of the major events that have marked the last two weeks.

Our film AOP, a mockumentary about a secret West German fetish, debuted at the HFF “Konrad Wolf” as part of the end of orientation festivities on Friday October 23rd.  It went over lukewarm compared with the other “Knaller” made by the other nine groups (at least 3 of which took place in a bathroom), but director Maurice M. Mohn swore to me that the film “wasn’t unsuccessful” at the party afterwards.  Speaking of THAT party:  it was held after 11:00 p.m. at a sketchy, illegal club in Kreuzkölln with no fire exits, no windows, a sketchy fridge full of bottled beer and nothing but techno beats (the latter being a plus against the other factors).  I sort of plowed my way through the packed bathroom line to reach the exit around 2:30 after quaffing a few cheap beers and yelling my way through several conversations in the smoky darkness.  An experience, to be sure.

I went to a wonderful Fulbright brunch on Sunday October 25^th held by the generous Luisa Greenfield and Ming Tsao in Kreuzberg, where I met Jacob Comenetz, a former Fulbrighter now working at the Bundespresseagentur (more on him to come) and got a pile of great book recommendations from Ming about writing about the electronic music aesthetic (you want that list? Send a comment my way!).  Later that day, I picked up Kat at the Berlin Tegel airport, who successfully got her very heavy baggage out of the terminal without a cart (or my help, since that’s how European airports work) and we ate out at Tuk-Tuk, the Indonesian restaurant down the street from us.

Having Kat around has been great for many reasons.  Here are a few:

* Cessation of married-man-long-distance loneliness;

* More satisfying sleep;

* The apartment is now warmer;

* Increased intake of generally nutritious food that tastes good;

* New impulse to plan social events and outings, and I can show her all the old stuff I’ve gotten to know;

* Celebrating birthdays and holidays is much more meaningful again!

In the first week (Oct. 26 – Nov. 1st), I purposefully overscheduled us with many social events, including coffee with Kira and Beverly and dinner with the same, carving pumpkins with Katie Weeks and Hilary Bown, Luisa’s film screening on Friday night, and a Fulbright alumni Halloween party at Joe’s Bar in Prenzlauer Berg on Saturday night with Jacob.  I did so to make Kat feel at home and connected here, which also conversely made me feel more at home and connected here as well.  Speaking of Luisa’s screening, we had a great turn-out for the two shorter, more experimental films (Light and Bridegroom… see below) but, since we started over an hour late, over half the audience missed the wonderful mess that was John Ford’s Seven Women (1966).  We hope that everybody returns for our continuing Ford/Straub pairings, as well as other assorted film gems we manage to procure.  As for the Halloween party, Kat and I went as a vampire-zombie duo who hated each other through our expressions on our T-shirts:  “Vampires Bite” and “Zombies Need Brains.”  Ha ha.

This last week has presented us with opportunities to walk around and shop (such as in Kreuzberg’s famous Bergmannstrasse), watch movies together (many reviewed below) and get our visas (by waking up at 3 a.m. and surmounting the evil LABO).  All in all a good time, and I anticipate more to come.

Professionally speaking, I’ve had some ups and downs the last two weeks.  Ups:  I spent four hours with Herr Dieter Kosslick, director of the Berlinale, and two hours with Dr. Gottfried Langenstein, director of ARTE; I’ve found hundreds of newspaper articles with revealing insights on the reception of the Indianerfilme in East Germany; I’ve met up with Reinhild Steingröver of the University of Rochester and established contact with several other scholars working on parallel topics to my dissertation.  Downs: I lost my first month’s worth of book/film notes due to a faulty data back-up attempt, so I’ve got another 10 hours of work to do in reconstructing it.  This is the way it goes.

And one final note:  if you’re ever on Akazienstrasse in Schöneberg, DO NOT eat at the South Indian restaurant called Chennai Dosai, not only because their food is not particularly good, but because they played the opening track from the Hrithik Roshan sci-fi Bollywood film Koi Mil Gya (2003) on a loop THE ENTIRE TIME WE SAT THERE.  It was a unique form of tourist torture, though I’m sure they weren’t expecting a customer who knew the film.

Fantasy

Posse (dir. Mario van Peebles, USA 1993)

Woody Strode, Big Daddy Kane, and many other prominent African-Americans star in this somewhat violent, misogynist and cliché Western.  Its primary contradiction lies in its seeming original mission – to re-insert African-Americans into a Western film tradition absolutely dominated by actors coded as “white” -  and its aesthetic outcome – a cheap Leone treasure/revenge plot with a lot of melodramatic cheese and macho strutting from Van Peebles.  The fact that I couldn’t really read the blocky explanatory text at the end didn’t really detract from the palpably saccharine coating that Van Peebles put on this piece of macho-masculine self-glorification.

The Treasure of Silver Lake (dir. Harald Reinl, FRG/France/Yugoslavia 1963)

The film that started the whole Euro-Western trend, and a completely necessary entry in the cinema books next to adventure films such as Errol Flynn’s Captain Blood (1935)or Lucas’ and Spielberg’s Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981).  The superhuman duo of Winnetou (Pierre Brice) and Old Shatterhand (Lex Barker) stumble upon an injustice committed (the murder of Götz George’s German immigrant father) and a treasure to discover.  Let’s just say that, on a superficial level, the film absolutely delivers:  colorful landscapes, bold action sequences, and plot twists that still convince the 8 year-old inside of you.  You only think about the crazy exoticism of the whole charade afterwards…

The Sons of Great Bear (dir. Josef Mach, GDR 1966)

The East German response to Reinl and Wendlandt’s Winnetou films, The Sons of Great Bear is the most “historically accurate” of all the DEFA Indianerfilme and also one of the most visually compelling.  That being said, Mach had little idea how to direct an action sequence, so the ending fight scene is confusing and frustrating to say the least, not to mention more-or-less tacked on to Liselotte Welskopf-Henrich’s original source material.  The press reviews made sure to note how much actor Gojko Mitic’s physique looked like the “real-life” Shoshone, though their basis on which to judge that comes from other Westerns’ portrayal of Native Americans.  Hmmm….

Little Big Man (dir. Arthur Penn, USA 1970)

Thomas Berger’s picaresque about the only white survivor of Little Bighorn, a man brought up by the Cheyenne (a.k.a. the human beings) named Jack, is expertly executed by Penn, if awkwardly assembled as a whole.  General Custer’s portrayal in the film is nothing short of brilliant – an arrogant prick more than a proper villain – and the Cheyenne are given a lot of positive screen-time.  Of course, Dustin Hoffman’s Jack dominates the majority of the film, with mixed results.

Battleship Potemkin (dir. Sergei Eisenstein, Russia 1925)

Restored 35mm print containing all the original scenes?  Check.
Live accompaniment by an adept pianist?  Check.
Kat’s first time seeing a leftist modernist classic?  Check.
I really can’t say anything more, other than that the Kino Arsenal has a special place in my heart.

Trick ‘r Treat (dir. Michael Dougherty, USA 2008)

A kind of Four Rooms treatment of Halloween, Trick ‘r Treat is a very smooth movie with regard to horror clichés, playing on one’s expectations, and the usual twists and turns one expects of even the slasher genre nowadays.  One should watch this with one’s tongue firmly in cheek, even through all the horrifying bits.  I say no more.

The Omen (dir. Richard Donner, UK/USA 1976)

Um… Gregory Peck’s character is kind of dumb?  This is at least what the film suggests, after one is led through a constant barrage of corroborating evidence that demonstrates his son is the antichrist, and he still doesn’t seem to get it.  Oh well:  there are many other films with evil children that work with the formula that The Omen put forth, so I suppose it’s influential.

League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (dir. Stephen Norrington, USA 2003)

This was the second time I’ve seen the film, and the second time I’ve seen it in Berlin (the last time was with Mary Brandel in 2003 – and I hated it then too.)  Alan Moore’s excellent graphic novel was to be transformed into a grand piece of pulp, and instead turned into a nightmarish gobbledy-gook of lame special FX (including the atrocious Venice sequence), too many characters running around (including “Tom Sawyer,” their worst revision), and sequel-baiting (the *ahem* “ending”).  Stuart Townsend is about the only redeeming feature of this feature, and that’s because he’s so damn charming in any case.

V for Vendetta (dir. James McTeigue, UK/Germany 2006)

Another slightly second-rate “good” film from the Wachowski Brothers, V for Vendetta continuously bills itself as a smart action thriller which raises bits of moral ambiguity for the postmodern cinema-goer, but is ultimately far too utopian about the power of the masses to stomach.  Alan Moore wasn’t nearly as idealistic as this, and far more critical of the respective places within society that Evie, V and the masses inhabit.  You can tell through the exquisite detail of the sets that the Babelsberg people worked on this one, though.

Genau Gleich (dir. Burkhart Wunderlich, Germany 2009)

A film that I’m currently subtitling for Burkhart about an incestuous relationship between German-Polish twins and an old woman on a bench waiting for Elvis.  An absolutely brilliant concluding shot is likely to give this one high marks at the Berlinale if, indeed, we manage to get the film into competition.

Light (dir. Marie Menken, USA 1964)

Dizzying Christmas lights, spinning motion, elliptical editing.  The lost American avant-garde.  Shall we see it again?

The Bridegroom, the Comedienne and the Pimp (dir. Jean-Marie Straub, Daniele Huillet, FRG 1968)

I must’ve seen this film something like eight or nine times since I’ve come to UMass.  Nevertheless, the mixture of prostitutes against an industrial backdrop, Ferdinand Bruckner’s “The Pains of Youth” by Fassbinder’s antitheater group, and the intense chase/marriage sequence at the end never fail to incite thoughts of alternatives to mainstream cinema and new spatial configurations of narrative.

Seven Women (dir. John Ford, USA 1966)

Ford’s last film is an outright laugh riot starring Anne Bancroft as a self-confident doctor who winds up in a doomed community of American missionaries in Mongolia.  Oh wait – this wasn’t supposed to be funny?  Then perhaps there’s too much Sirkian irony in this overstuffed, full-color studio epic, which is probably why the film was buried after its creation:  Ford’s film is trapped between gender and a hard place.   Oh yeah, and there’s actually eight women, but one of them happens to be Chinese…

Coraline (dir. Henry Selick, USA 2009)

Coraline is a well-executed animated feature in glorious 3D that was screened at the HFF as part of our overall 3D research project.  Many of the fantastic landscapes, both interiors and exteriors, are enhanced by the 3D effects, but these effects don’t overwhelm the adaptation from the original text.  What does overwhelm the adaptation is the inclusion of a male character who has to save Coraline’s butt in the end, classifying it as yet another film with a strong female character who needs a man to both tame and save her.  Why can’t Hollywood ever be done with its male heroes?

G-Force (dir. Hoyt Yeatman, USA 2009)

Most 3D films rely on re-vamped spatial relations that make tighter spaces seem even tighter and wide open spaces seem glorious.  So what better means of exploring tight spaces and big vistas than making a supremely small cast, through whose eyes we must view the world?  Such is the visual premise of G-Force, which has guinea pig commandos saving the world from a silly plot in a classic Jerry Bruckheimer fashion.  Nevertheless, the effects are convincing and most of the side-plots are not particularly annoying.  I would say:  Mr. Yeatman’s background in visual FX for advertising and trailers paid off in a big way for the film, though its effects scenes are so pronounced as to make all of the dialog sequences seem drawn-out and dull.  Definitely a movie that attempts to satiate a hyper-active age group.  Critics who don’t fully “get” 3D films and who are thoroughly in Pixar’s camp are liable to hate it,  but I can root for it from the sidelines.