Photos by Ute Mahler, Text by Thierry Bruehl. Mr. Mahler is a German photographer with the Ostkreuz Agency, Berlin. Mr. Bruehl is a 31-year-old German theatre director.
 Berlin was once an
island. I moved from Cologne to West Berlin in 1988, when the Wall was still standing.
To reach the city you had to travel through the German Democratic Republic (GDR),
a country that the average West German born after the war knew less about than France,
Spain or Belgium. Reaching West Berlin was like driving through a tunnel. The city was already the largest in the Federal Republic, but so very distinct from it. This melting pot of “cold-war warriors”, ageing activists of the 1968 revolts, politically active students and disillusioned artists made a somewhat archaic impression on the outsider. The highly-subsidized showcase of the Western world, West Berlin had a particularly leisurely existence. The city landscape was dominated by busy cafés serving breakfast till 6 p.m. Compared to a metropolis like London or Paris, Berlin was laid-back, quiet, almost sleepy like a country village. Bird’s eye view of a burgeoning city It was only by heading east in the city that you started to feel uneasy–the contrast couldn’t have been greater. After passing the rigorous border checks and changing the obligatory amount of currency, you stepped through the Iron Curtain–yet supposedly you were still in the same city. The people all seemed so similar, with closed expressions on their faces. The pubs were usually empty and you had the impression, especially after 11 at night when the theatres closed, that the capital of the GDR had rolled up its sidewalks–but as it turned out, this was only on the surface. So much for the past. It’s now been almost ten years since the Wall was pulled down. Germany is reunited and so is Berlin, which is now the country’s capital with the Bundestag (parliament) and government having moved from Bonn this summer. It’s been seven years since I moved to the Mitte District on the border of Prenzlauer Berg in East Berlin. At first, curiosity drew me here, the wish to discover this “other” city inside my own. We were lucky enough to get hold of a wasteland whose owners had not been clearly identified. Young people transformed empty halls, factories and ballrooms into art associations, theatre workshops and “in” pubs. As these new venues became more established, the arts scene shifted from West to East. Just a casual stroll will lead you to marvel at an array of converted buildings and spaces that I doubt you would find in any other city. Right in the centre, just about 500 metres north of the Reichstag, teenagers have carted sand up to the demolished Weltjugend (“World Youth”) stadium on Chaussestrasse and set up a “beach volleyball” pitch. Right next to the pitch–remember this is bang slap in the city centre, surrounded by office blocks and shopping malls–there’s a huge golf training course for sports students and other amateurs. These initiatives aren’t motivated by profit but by the simple desire to play volleyball or golf right downtown. But has anyone on the city council considered that this area is going to be one of the most investment-attractive construction sites in the city once the government, the Bundestag and their administrations have moved in? Potsdamer Platz, about 500 metres south of the Reichstag, tells a completely different story. Just after reunification, the Berlin Senate thoughtlessly sold it off to Daimler Benz and Sony. In the last few years, the area, which was the largest construction site in Europe, has turned into an artificial commercial district with new residential streets. There used to be an insular tranquillity in West Berlin, while a state-coerced calm prevailed over East Berlin. Today both have fallen between the cracks of the contrasting developments of volley ball courts and commercial zones. Between these two areas, there is one place from which one can pause to contemplate Berlin: the new terrace and dome of the renovated Reichstag building provide a bird’s-eye view, from a good distance, of this city in full transformation. If you look towards the west across the city centre’s large park, the Tiergarten, little seems to have changed. Early into a summer’s eve, you can see curls of smoke rising from countless Berlin barbecues, most often belonging to large Turkish families making up for the absence of a garden. A midday stroll through the garden reveals another Berlin peculiarity: naked sunbathers right in the city centre! Now look east to find the view dominated by a forest of cranes in action. Old buildings dating from the GDR era which are not protected as historical monuments –from hotels built in the 1960s to the Foreign Office–are being demolished to make way for new construction. The redistribution of former GDR properties, which usually happens by selling off land and buildings to private investors, has provoked a veritable renovation hysteria. You can only guess at the façades of homes hidden behind the scaffolding lining nearly every street in East Berlin. Where I live, houses are being renovated one after the other, the facades painted in pastel hues, with balconies added, apartments built into the roofs–and steadily rising rents. Given all the buzz and activity of the construction, you look forward to an evening’s refuge in one of the “alternative” enclaves I mentioned earlier. “Acud”, for instance, has such a special feel. The building, which used to house squatters, is set back from a busy street in the Mitte District, just around the corner from my place. Acud is a world of its own. Banners draping the several stories of the building announce a smorgasbord of cultural events. In the attic, you can sit back in old car seats and discarded rows of cinema seats to enjoy films rarely screened elsewhere. One floor down you will find a small gallery, beneath that a concert hall and an African restaurant. The courtyard has been taken over by fringe theatre groups who’ve created a performance space with an improvised nature reminiscent of the “Globe Theatre”. Daily life unwinds in places like Acud, which reflects the events and the metamorphosis of the New City. These are islands in a sprawling city which only ten years ago was an island itself. |
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A family relaxes on the roof of its cabin in the “garden city” area of Berlin’s Ostkreuze district. |
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A decorated stretch of the former Berlin Wall forms a multicoloured background for a swinging accordionist. |
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Hard-hatted tourists take a guided visit to the Sony company’s building site on Potsdamer Platz, whose concentration of cranes and construction works symbolizes the new Berlin. |
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Berlin: Birth and Rebirth
Reclaiming its former status marks a rebirth for Berlin, a city at the heart of the German enlightenment in the 18th century when it was capital of the kingdom of Prussia, before being proclaimed capital of the German Empire in 1871. During the 1920s, Berlin was one of Europe’s foremost cultural and scientific centres, associated with such names as Bertolt Brecht, Walter Gropius and Albert Einstein. But the 1920s were also marked by rising unemployment and merciless inflation, facilitating Hitler’s rise to power. In 1945, the devastated city was divided into four zones of occupation, then partitioned into East and West Berlin in 1949. The wall was built in August 1961. When the city celebrated its 750th anniversary in 1987 on separate sides, few could have predicted that the country–and Berlin–would be reunified two years later. In 1991, the Bundestag chose Berlin as capital by a narrow 18-vote majority. The city is now one of superlatives, with three opera houses, 160 museums and an ultra-modern cinema complex that will be ready for the next Berlin Film Festival in February 2000. The capital is placing hope in its new status to shore up its economy and become a major transportation hub, with Europe’s largest railway station under construction. |
