City express

Eisenhüttenstadt historical apartment

It's always nice to know someone who lives in a foreign city – a person who sends you snapshots and stories of their life as it unfolds, many borders away. One of my favourite 'correspondents' happens to be a friend who needs a multiple-barrel description just to describe the many things he does. Ben Gook is a writer/musician from Melbourne who is currently based in Berlin, taking lots of amazing pictures as a photographic diary of his time there. He's also researching Ostalgie (nostalgia for the long-gone German Democratic Republic) and other kinds of remembrance for his thesis. I thought it'd be nice to take this blog on a detour to the German capital and share some of these visual mementos of his time so far, as well as his take on the architecture and culture of that iconic, historic city.


'Ostel' in former East Berlin

I really like your photos of Berlin's buildings – many feel like a visual archive of a long-gone period of German architecture. Can you tell me about the urban surrounds and some of the buildings that have inspired you to pull your camera out of your bag?
Architecture and everyday spaces were a battleground during the Cold War. Each side was trying to outdo the other — be it with nicer buildings, better kitchens or sleeker furniture. So I am excited by those parts of the former East where these battles are still noticeable — where the buildings still stand, where you can kind of get a bit loose in an imaginative scenario of the hopes and shortcomings of the German Democratic Republic. Unfortunately, a mixture of understandable glee at the end of the GDR and erasure by the West has meant that fewer and fewer of these places are around. Of course, the West has managed to keep the majorities of theirs.



Eisenhüttenstadt historical apartment


Can you tell me a bit about Eisenhüttenstadt, which was meant to be a communist model city, and the historical apartment there you visited?
It’s a city out on the border with Poland. You get there by train from Berlin, going through ‘the other’ (smaller) Frankfurt. It’s down to about a third of its population during the height of the GDR, so the place feels like its clothes are far too big. There are long tracts of empty buildings and shops, boarded up, graffitied. Back in the '50s, this city was built on farmland. It’s the only city that sprouted in Germany after the end of World War II.



Eisenhüttenstadt historical apartment


Berlin was an expensive ruin after WWII, with poor facilities (plumbing, etc) where it hadn’t been demolished. The ailing GDR didn’t really have money to fix all the damage, so it was cheaper to build a new city somewhere else. A bunch of factories opened up, working with things like electronics and steel. People moved out there to live in apartment buildings modelled on socialist philosophies of communal, urban living — they are arranged around the city in a way that encourages people to mix outside.


Eisenhüttenstadt historical apartment

After various companies from the West acquired these factories and businesses, they shed a lot of staff. So there wasn’t much worth sticking around for. Aside from the lack of viable work, the grand sweep of the architecture feels pretty ridiculous when there are so few people around. It’s a strangely eerie and melancholic place to be. So the desire to depart is redoubled.



'Ostel' in former East Berlin.


There’s a museum and historical apartment out there now. A West German historian asked people to donate bits and pieces of GDR life as unification pressed ahead. He could see that various parts of everyday life were going to disappear as new brands, new models and new dreams floated across from the West. The collection became very large and he opened a museum. It is housed in an old schoolhouse. It’s not bad, but I have a few problems with these ‘everyday life’ museums. (More about that in the thesis!)


Eisenhüttenstadt historical apartment

So the historical apartment was more interesting to me. They have acquired an upper-scale apartment along Straße der Republik, the grand old street. It is set in a 500m-long row of pre-Plattenbau socialist housing — all Stalinist neo-classical detailing and post-unification decay. The documentation tells us that it was empty for many months after completion in the early '50s. Working people in this new city could not afford the rent on such a place. The bedroom suite cost the equivalent of four average monthly wages.



Eisenhüttenstadt


But in contrast to the rigid modernist design emphasis you see in some versions of the GDR history, this apartment is furnished with a more realistic mix of modernist and earlier, pre-GDR pieces. The origins of furniture — factory, year, designer — and any anachronistic elements are dutifully noted in a book that lays open on the living room table. It’s a striking and well-thought-out display.



Karl Marx Allee


Can you tell me about one of your favourite things where you live?
As we are a little bit obsessed with food, my girfriend Camille and I have made the most of the felafel in town.

When we arrived in winter, we’d huddle at the one table, cold and wet, waiting for our felafel [at our favourite place in Kreuzberg]. In summer, we’ll sit outside in the sun, sitting on a bench with up to fifteen others, all patiently awaiting or impatiently devouring their felafel. We take all our visitors there and enjoy seeing them lose their minds after the first two bites. Most take photos of the thing while they are eating it, as if this was a way of taking it home with them to eat again.

Then there are the German bread and cakes …




Tell me about some of the memorials throughout the city, a few of which you've photographed?
I guess this is another thesis-related interest of mine. A lot of the old GDR memorials were wiped out during unification. So the various Lenin and Marx statues were lopped, as always happens with the old figureheads when new politicians cement themselves (see Iraq, Budapest etc). I suppose that leaves the question of which ones have stayed — and why.

The famous Marx and Engels near Alexanderplatz are still there from the GDR time, for example. Some have suggested it’s because they’re cartoonish and approachable. One sits, the other stands. Their arms are by their sides. They’re not raised in a revolutionary salute. They look docile, avuncular. So they stay.

But entire sets of streets from the GDR were renamed.



How much of a visible role does design and art play in Berlin? Is something like the massive Bauhaus show you recently visited seen as a big deal or is it by-the-by?
The Bauhaus exhibition was certainly well attended when I visited, so I think there’s a lot of excitement about that. There have been a lot of newspaper features, too, about the anniversary of the Bauhaus. There’s also a bunch of books you can buy that lead you on an extensive tour of the various architectural highlights of Berlin. The divided city aspect of its history from WWII to '89 meant that there was a lot of competition between the sides. That one-upmanship bequeathed some interesting buildings that are fairly accessible and open to the public.



There is a ridiculous statistic about the number of art and cultural venues in Berlin: it has as many theatres as Paris and more symphony orchestras than London, but only a third of the population of those places. So it’s a given that cultural life is a large part of the city.

The established galleries are all worthwhile places to visit. The Berlinische Galerie is a good one, as it covers art that has emerged from Berlin. It has both temporary exhibitions — like the recent one on John Heartfield — and a permanent exhibition upstairs with important works of Dada, surrealism etc.

What is it like living in Berlin in the lead up to the 20th anniversary of the wall coming down?
The major celebrations are still to happen — most of those are in November. But it’s absolutely at the forefront of the city’s consciousness. The Berlinale film festival in February had a section covering it, many galleries have had exhibitions of painting or photography or whatever else they could find.



Frankfurter Tor


I think Berlin and Germany is still a little tentative about what to do with this history, though. There is a simultaneous urge to acknowledge it and retreat from it.

Coming to terms with the past at the social level is a complex thing. In Germany, this interacts with a certain testiness that emerged in the 1980s about the country’s association with the Holocaust. ‘Normalisation’ became the buzzword of conservative politics. That is, to just make German a nation among other nations. To make its history no better or worse than others.



Your favourite Berlin street?
That’s a hard one. In my neighbourhood, Oranienstraße has a certain magnetic attraction. There’s nothing particularly of note that I enjoy doing or visiting there. But I find myself walking along there regularly, even if I just want to go for a casual walk somewhere. There are some good Turkish food and interesting book stores (even if I can’t read the books! I love German book design!)


Karl Marx Allee

Karl-Marx-Allee is monumental and kind of ridiculous, but completely memorable. Moscow-aping GDR buildings, completely covered in German-made tiles and all kinds of '50s details. Toward Alexanderplatz, the place feels like — and often is used as — a film set recreation of a glamorous '50s Eastern Bloc chic; down towards the Marzahn end the place feels like the worst of crap '70s and '80s GDR building works. Enormous slab towers throw shadows for a hundred metres. The wind is enough to knock you over. In winter, this must be a desolate place to live.


Shell Haus

Your favourite Berlin building?
I like the modernist buildings of folks like Bruno Taut. I do love the Shell Haus down near Potsdamer Platz, too. It’s got a sensuousness to the curves and a real level of craftsmanship to it. It was renovated in the past ten years, so that surely helps how it comes to us today. It must look as good as it did back in the '30s. And the infamous TV tower is a bit of a strange one — it always makes me think of a cricket ball on the end of a stick, like the one I used to ‘knock in’ my bat when I was a teenager — but the presence of it does make it impossible to forget where you are.



Shell Haus


How does Berlin compare to Melbourne, where you're from?
I wouldn’t say one is better or worse. Many Germans love Australia and seem desperate to live there. Many Australians love Berlin and are desperate to live there.


TV Tower

I like the ‘density’ of the Berlin urban life. You can walk out onto the street any time of day and night and find people going about their life. Amenities like public transport, bike lanes and supermarkets are abundant. One of the unknown things about Berlin is that it is 33 per cent covered by water and parks. And I like the way the park spaces — which are never far away — are a strong part of the lifestyle. The Tiergarten is amazing in summer, but the local ones are also treasures. The lakes around the city are wonderful places in summer, too.



I think Melbourne, in general, has much better food and it’s something I’ve missed. Particularly the cheap and plentiful Asian restaurants — being away has made me aware how influenced Australia is by its proximity to those countries, something still too little acknowledged. But I dare say that I will be unable to touch a felafel again — at least without tediously regaling people with stories about ‘this place in Berlin I used to go to...’.



Also, the summers are much more comfortable and enjoyable in Berlin. People really make the most of it, given the cold months they’ve just dragged themselves through. The streets visibly change when the sun comes out. But the winters are torture, causing more than a few people to lapse into deep depression — and they are enough to make any Australian long for a 46 degree day to burn the chill out of their bones. The snow is beautiful, though, and the novelty of it for Australians never seems to diminish.



Oberbaumbrücke


One thing I noticed most in Berlin is colour – lack of colour (the relentless grey!) and then the unexpected almost-cartoony pastel shades that appear every now and then. How would you personally describe Berlin in colour?
I think there is some truth to the ‘greyness’ associated with Berlin. I don’t think it’s all about the colour, though. If a building is designed well, its ‘greyness’ can be irrelevant. There are many great Brutalist buildings, which are mostly made up of weathered concrete. The worst of the greyness is when a fairly plain material is used on a poorly designed building.


Karl Marx Allee

But there are always these striking buildings, as you say, that put some colour into the street, even in winter. They might not be the most interestingly designed building, but you are generally thankful for their presence during winter. I think these colour schemes are absolutely related to the darkness and bareness.

There are certain reasons for the grey buildings, of course. One of which is how decimated and frozen (!) Berlin was after WWII. There was little money around, yet the city had been 70 per cent destroyed by bombs. So there was a certain pragmatism to slapping them up, unadorned as it were.



It’s no excuse, of course, as I’m sure some smart architects would’ve been able to do better things.

But I suppose it’s just worth remembering that political developments bestowed these buildings upon the city.

You can see more of Ben's great photos at travellingpictureshow.wordpress.com.

Lee Tran, deputy chief sub-editor


Oberbaumbrücke