17 November 2010

Berlin

Berlin had recently piqued my interest as an emerging “world city”, one that has had an exciting transformation and an art and music scene people have compared to 1970s New York. Thus it was to my surprise that I received an invitation from my friend Joel to spend a few days in the German capital in November. I quickly grabbed the opportunity to experience first-hand this intriguing city and its much written about creativity and originality. And there were initial clues that Berliners had that quality in them – the landlords for the two rental apartments we booked were both American artists who have migrated to Berlin, one an African-American dancer in his 40s and the other a 20-something musician from Virginia.

Todd, the dancer, is also a filmmaker and photographer.  His apartment in Tiergarten, a quiet neighborhood with a strong diplomatic base, was spacious and clean and provided excellent light with just enough art pieces to give it a modern urban feel.  The view from his balcony is spectacular, with all the important landmarks of the Berlin skyline, including the Reichstag (Parliament) and Brandenburg Tor (Gate), glistening at night.  And right adjacent is the vast expanse of Berlin’s lovely central park that is also called Tiergarten.  Tim, the musician, has a more modest apartment in Kreuzberg, an ethnically diverse, grungy, and very “hip” part of the city, home to a large Turkish community and the young artistic set.

It is with this backdrop that I explored Berlin for one week by foot, by bahn – an orderly maze of S-bahns (elevated trains) and U-bahns (underground trains) – and, on my last day, by bike. Exploring by foot gives one the opportunity to appreciate the subtleties of a neighborhood. Traveling by train provides one glimpses of typical everyday life, while exploring by bike invigorates the traveler, imbibing him with the city’s energy and activity. Besides, most everyone rides a bike in Berlin. It is part of their way of life.

There definitely is a lot to explore in this city that less than seven decades ago was in shambles and roughly two decades ago was still a city divided.  The city’s major landmark is the Brandenburg Tor, which dates back to the 1700s and has been the site of the most iconic historical events of Germany – Napoleon’s victory march into Berlin and more recently as the most visible part of the Berlin Wall. I was in awe of the Pergamon Museum which houses the massive and beautifully preserved Pergamon altar from ancient Greece (now Bergama in Turkey) and the dramatic Ishtar Gate from Nebuchadnezzar II’ s palace in ancient Babylon. Equally enthralling, though a thousand times smaller, is the impeccable bust of Nefertiti, the centerpiece of the Neues Museum.

I was captivated by the beauty I saw throughout the city. Its rugged allure, not all picture perfect like Paris’ or Prague’s, though the Museumsinsel (Museum island) where the Pergamon and Neues Museum are located, can rival any city’s collection of art, and the narrow streets and handsome courtyards of Mitte-Scheunenviertel and the quaint tree-lined streets and multihued townhouses of Prenzlauerberg are as gorgeous as they come (Mitte and Prenzlauerberg were poor neighborhoods in the former East Berlin but are now home to the city’s most prestigious and expensive addresses).

But there was beauty as well in the graffiti found in subway walls, on building facades, and on fragments of the torn down Berlin Wall, the most heartrending of which is the 1.3 km long East Side Gallery in Friedrichshain, the longest remaining remnant of the Wall, which has been reinvented through works of dozens of contemporary artists from all over the world. The colors of this tangible reminder of a divided and hurtful past are vibrant and hopeful and the paintings provocative and liberating.

Upon the recommendation of a good friend who had studied in Berlin, I made a reservation for the Sammlung Hoffman tour a few weeks before. This tour, he said, is one of those “Berlin” things that one has to experience. It showcases the elegant home of Erica and Rolf Hoffman, which occupies two floors of a stately building in Mitte that surrounds a central courtyard.

We were provided slippers as we walked on wooden floors and, under lofty ceilings, were treated to very interesting and thought provoking works of art that stimulated our senses and encouraged us to imagine. Some pieces were definitely over-the-top, others mysterious and odd, but all were unquestionably creative. The bonus was meeting Mrs. Hoffman who popped up at the end of the tour to serve us water. (Mr. Hoffman had died a few years ago). Mrs. Hoffman, a former fashion designer who is still elegant in her advancing age, spoke with a warmth and clarity about their foray into the contemporary art scene and their pioneering decision to share (on select days) their home and art to those who may be interested. Yes, the contemporary pieces actually are part of their home. In fact, in some rooms, traces of everyday life are present… a table with half eaten pieces of bread and cheeses, comfortable couches for viewing dramatic photographs enlarged to cover entire walls, a life-sized dollhouse for the grand kids. This takes “living with art” to a new level.

Berliners struck me as very laid back and easygoing. Even the apartments  and restaurants we encountered carried with them this no-frills and practical quality. But underneath the cool, hip facade, what is apparent is a zest for life and creativity. Tim (the young musician), for instance, on my last night in his Kreuzberg apartment, was teaching English to a young man in his 20s and singing lessons to a young Brazilian woman. I am amazed at his vitality.  The poster in his room appropriately says “Demolish Emptiness”.

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 I rode Tim’s spare bike all over the city on my last day, dressed in layers and a ski cap with a small backpack and camera in tow. In the chilly and drizzly weather, my hands were freezing ( I should have brought gloves) . But as I skirted my bike along Landwehrkanal,  a serene canal in the southern part of Kreuzberg, and zoomed by the Turkish restaurants and falafel stands on Oranienstrasse,  the bliss that I felt kept me warm. 

I retraced the steps that I took on previous days, riding along the cobblestone streets of Museumsinsel while marveling at the picturesque dome of the Berliner Dor and the Greek-inspired façade of the Altes Museum along the river Spree.

I breezed through Berlin’s grand boulevard Unter den Linden on to the resplendence of  Brandenburg Tor and the Reichstag.   

I gingerly pedaled my way on the damp pathways of Tiergarten,  slicing through the heartbreaking silence  and  cement slabs of the Holocaust Memorial, and ending  up at dusk at the Neue National Galerie, near Potsdamer Platz, the city’s commercial hub that has been completely rebuilt from the ashes of wartime bombing.

As darkness fell, I rode my bike home along busy roads and quiet alleys, mesmerized by a city, not called New York, that was alive and constantly changing ….

In the only sunny day amidst the rainy days of my stay, I savored, in the late afternoon light and through the sunset, a 360 degree view of this city from the new glass dome of the Reichstag. This is the perfect symbol of modern Berlin, a visually stunning and environmentally “green” work of art. It is open to the elements above and transparent for the whole world to see. From underneath the dome, I saw a city that has risen proudly from the rubble with a quiet intensity, exuding an attitude that is relaxed but confident, calm but reverberating …

Das ist mein Berlin. This is my Berlin.