Insider goes to Check Point Alpha

Here are some fotos from a recent Insider guides' foray to the German-German border crossing point Marienborn/Alpha. This was a major East/West crossing point where the DDR controlled all traffic through their territory and en route to Berlin. This is an expansive 35 hectare complex with access to many original buildings which retain their authenticity and are now being used for excellent exhibitions (although unfortunately not all in English). This complex once employed 1.000 with millions of people controlled here over a 45 year period, some unwittingly with X-ray.  Oh, how Europe has changed!

http://www.stgs.sachsen-anhalt.de/gedenkstaette-deutsche-teilung-marienborn/

underappreciated amazements with Maisie

Hailing from London, Maisie has a fascination for all things Teutonic.  After finishing studies in art and architectural history with a specialisation in German cultural politics she worked as an assistant on the BBC's flagship radio news programme, Today.  These days she co-hosts an English-language Berlin-themed radio show.  How did you make the move from London to Berlin Maisie?

I first came as a student in 2000 to do my Erasmus year at the Free University. It completely blew me away. I spent the year on a real high. It's a total cliche to say it now, but it was very exciting, like nowhere else I'd been before and very different. So much space, dirt cheap, really a big playground for people with no money.  Coming from London, it was very refreshing to be somewhere where cash wasn't king. It felt pretty egalitarian. You could live pretty much anywhere in the former East, including the centre. It was very common for students to live in villas and huge, palatial apartments, albeit slightly run-down.  I had friends living on Kollwitzplatz, which is now Berlin's most expensive street, in 4 bed apartments by themselves.With coal heating of course.

In a lot of the East, there was obviously still a very strong post-communist feel- it was very bleak in many areas- and the parts of the former West which had been near the Wall- like east Kreuzberg- were quite edgy. The other thing that struck me was the space. So many vast empty spaces, especially in the area where the Wall had stood. They've mostly been filled in now. There were also a lot fewer people around. Hardly any expats, at least that I knew of. I remember being amazed to hear some American voices once at Brandenburg Gate, like: "What are THEY doing here???!!".  Berlin felt very free. There was a lot of spontaneity and parties in the most unusual places. It felt like anything was possible. Except making money or getting a well paid job. It made a massive impression on me. 

I finished my Erasmus year in 2001, then went on to do an MA, worked at the BBC for a bit, then came back permanently in 2005. 

Can you tell us a bit about your baby, Radio Spätkauf.  How has your experience been, going into spätis and asking to record introductions?  Any stories to share?

Radio Spätkauf is a joint effort between me and my journalist friend Joel and an artist called Andrew. It's a kind of news and culture show for Berlin, trying to keep people in touch with what's going on here on a local level. 

Most of the Späti owners have been very obliging and nice, although I must admit, Joel was the one asking them. We once found this really feisty Thai woman running a Späti out in a shed in Grünau in the former east. But she was so scary, I couldn't bring myself to ask her. I regret that, because she'd probably have been very entertaining!

There is a lot of frustration and talk about Berlin's hyper gentrification these days.  Do you see Berlin going in the direction of London, or do you think there is hope for us here?

 

Berlin has changed a lot over the past 8 years or so, but I don't think it's going to be turning into London in the immediate future. London has been gentrifying slowly for decades. Plus the poverty gap is and has always been much greater there. The Germans are more, dare I say it, 'socialist' in their outlook, even the Christian Democrats, with regards to welfare, housing, etc.  Social & economic inequality don't seem to be quite as pronounced here, although I can see things changing.  That said, although they are gradually being legislated, tenants, for example, have a lot more rights and protection from ruthless landlords than they do in the UK. Random rent hikes and evictions are much harder to enforce.  That said, we shouldn't relativize the situation too much: there is now a big deficit in affordable housing in Berlin. Poor people are being forced out of the centre, kicked out of the areas they grew up in. I hope that the city government starts building more social housing and does more to protect people on lower incomes. The property & rental price hikes in Berlin have made them really vulnerable. Affordability is a large part of Berlin's appeal. If it loses that, it's lost much of what makes it such an interesting and attractive city.

We at Insider know your great love for East Berlin architecture.  Why is this style so close to your heart, is it purely aesthetics?  Can you choose one favourite Berlin building to tell us a bit about.

Komplex Leipzigerstrasse, a series of tower blocks designed by Werner Strassenmeier and the Joachim Näther collective, which were built from 1969 onwards.

I think for me it's about aesthetics, but also what it represents.  The GDR ceased to exist a year after the Wall fell, but one of its legacies- architecture- has taken a lot longer to go.  Architecture was such a strong part of GDR visual culture. Buildings and the accompanying deco or public art- murals, mosaics, sculptures-  were supposed to reflect the ideals of the state- built socialism, if you like.  But if you take it out of its context, much of it is not explicitly political. Apart from the Stalinist stuff from the 50s, like Karl Marx Allee, or the big housing projects, it is not especially 'communist'.  A lot of public buildings from the 60s and 70s, like Ulrich Müther's structures, really just reflect international building trends of that time. They seem pretty space-age and futuristic. The same applies to a lot of GDR public art. It's so utopian and stylised- like the one by Walter Womacka on the Haus des Lehrers on Alexanderplatz, but some of it could come from Britain in the 70s.

I can also get interested in a bit of GDR architecture or deco, that might even be really ugly,  purely because of what it represents. Since I moved here in 2000, a lot of stuff has been demolished, for various reasons. It's on it's way out, it's ephemeral, unlike say, the Reichstag. I think that adds to its appeal. You never know whether something will be pulled down the next week or not. 

That's what my blog GDR design https://gdrdesign.wordpress.com/ is about. It's not trying to idealise the GDR or put a positive spin on anything, it just tries to document all these quirky structures or bits of public art which have survived communism but won't be around for much longer. 

Walter Womacka’s mural ‘Der Mensch dass Mass alle Dinge’ (Man, the measure of all things) removed from the side of the Ministerium für Bauwesen in Breite Strasse prior to demolition in 2011.

My favourite East German building is probably the former State Council building on Schlossplatz, behind the new city palace. It's 1960s representative architecture and they spent a lot of money on it, so it's got that 'people's palace' vibe about it. It now belongs to a very expensive business school, ironically. But it's been renovated, and they did a good job. It's essentially been done up, but has kept its original character, like the TV tower. There's a huge stained glass window in the entrance hall, again by Womacka, THE state artist in the GDR. Worth a look if you're in the area.

Womacka stained glass, former State Council

Thanks for opening our eyes to all the architectural treasures we have hidden amidst Berlin!

through time and space with JJ

JJ, a native of Cork City, Ireland, arrived in Berlin armed with a curiosity about curry-wurst and an MBS in politics and history. A self confessed Berlin addict, John infuses his tours with his intense passion for German history and culture, while employing his inimitable brand of humour to weave the story of Berlin in the great Irish tradition.  How and when did you first come to this city JJ?

I first visited Berlin in the late autumn of 2006, a callow and impressionable youth searching for the city of his dreams. Being an aficionado of David Bowie’s work (he recorded some of his finestwork in the city) I expected to love the city, but I wasn’t ready for the overwhelming experience. I wish I could tell you more about the visit but I literally wandered around in a dream like state, stumbling from one historic location to another, allowing the years of history to wash over me. It sounds so ridiculous now, but visiting Berlin was like a pilgrimage for me, just to follow in the footsteps of Max Liebermann, Mies van der Rohe, and Fritz Lang was a thrill. I have vague memories of seeing the Pergamon Altar and buying an Ampelmann mug, but beyond that it’s more a feeling than a specific set of memories. My experiences must have been positive because I jumped at the chance to move here in May of 2011. I was presented with an impossibly long list of cities by a university professor who insisted that I needed some experience “in the field”. I dutifully narrowed the list down to Berlin and Stockholm, but in reality there was only one real contender. This is where my Berlin odyssey truly began and when my turbulent love affair with the city started. Like any relationship we go through peaks and troughs together but the romance continues to blossom.

With your masters in politics, can you discuss a bit about Berlin's uniqueness in terms of a capitol city.

From an academic point of view I could coldly and rationally put forward any number of completely valid arguments for why Berlin is unique amongst European capitals. From the geopolitical point of view I would be sympathetic to Otto von Bismarck’s opinion that Berlin’s position at the crossroads of the continent has had an enduring impact. We could also look at Berlin’s unusual and sometimes difficult journey to becoming the capital of the German Empire at the end of the Franco-Prussian War. Then we arrive at the 20^th century, where we have the destruction and rebirth of the city and the small matter of the Wall. West Berlin became a refuge for young German men and women escaping the stuffy atmosphere of post-war West Germany, a safe haven from military service, and an oasis for artists from allover the globe. Finally we arrive at the post-Wall era, something we are still coming to terms with. The spectacular collision of east and west and the relatively smooth transition to a united Berlin contribute an enormous amount to the city uniqueness.

Beyond the academic analysis we have to appreciate another less tangible factor. Berlin has something special, an almost mystical quality that sets it apart from the rest. The city is like a mirror that reflects the dreams of the people who live here, although it has reflected its fair share of nightmares too. When I first arrived in Berlin I met an incredible man at a language exchange who was supposed to be helping me to improve my German but ending up regaling me with stories from his experiences in Berlin over the course of 40 years. He told that the only constant in Berlin’s is change – the city constantly renews itself; expecting Berlin to stand still is akin to standing on the shore line as the tide advances and screaming at it to turn back. Change is Berlin’s most enduring and alluring quality, and adds much to its unique character.

You're a street art fan.  Did this grow out of living in Berlin?  Do you have a favourite local street artist, or location to find new pieces?

Simply put, Berlin and street art are a match made in heaven. Before arriving in Berlin I would have been quite dubious about the artistic merits of street art, but I quickly learned to love the micro-galleries that populate Berlin’s doorways and alleys. Street art’s raison d'être is its temporary nature and Berlin’s street artists have embraced the mediums fleeting lifespan. Whether it’s a wall-sized mural, a poster, or a piece of graffiti, street art fits perfectly with Berlin’s chameleon spirit. When the wall fell, vast swathes of the relatively underdeveloped east were opened to eager artists searching for wall space. When you add the laissez faire attitude to graffiti in the former western neighbourhoods of Kreuzberg and Neukoelln, you have a city that is too tempting for the world’s most prominent artists to ignore.  

Street art (in the loosest sense) is not a recent phenomenon in the city; in fact Berlin’s first street artist was probably Ernst Ludwig Kirchner who painted pictures of the city’s streets rather than putting paint on the city’s streets. Kirchner was one of the key figures of the Die Brueke movement and his “Großstadtbilder” series documented the city’s bustling neighbourhoods during an audacious age – for example his viciously angular painting of Nollendorf Platz in 1912 for example captures the chaos perfectly.

Nolllendorf Platz, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, 1912

Today Berlin’s street art crews, such as 1UP (One United Power) and the precocious UberFresh Crew (often stylised as ÜF) have dragged the street art phenomenon into previously uncharted territory. They carry out their unique vision for Berlin’s streets with a political undercurrent and a dose of renegade ferocity. Whether it’s entertaining or humorous, thought provoking or disposable, street art has become interwoven into the DNA of the city.

Naturally Warschauer Strasse, Schlesisches Tor, Gorlitzer Bahnhof and the nearby streets are essential destinations for anybody looking for an introduction to the variety of art on Berlin’s streets. Space is at a premium and each and every door way artists clambering playfully for a place for expression. Mitte is also a well established area for street artists, particularly Haus Schwarzenberg near Hackescher Markt. Here you can find some of Berlin’s most respected artists displaying their work within a few square meters of each other. In the city we have some incredible pieces by internationally renowned artists, but my personal favourites are the ones I associate most with Berlin. Take for example the tiny cork figures striking theatrical yoga poses that adorn the city’slampposts and street signs, or the eccentric sixes that crop up in increasingly bizarre locations. There are two Berlin based artists that work under the name Various & Gould who have created a series titled “Sankt Nimmerlein” which is a big favourite of mine. The poster series sought to create ten modern saints for modern day problems that are based on the “Fourteen Holy Helpers” of the 2^nd and 3^rd century. The posters, which are dotted around the city, mix the surreal with biting social commentary; truly art to get excited about. Of course I have to mention one of Berlin’s most prolific artists El Bocho; even those with a passing interest in street art are familiar with his “Little Lucy” posters, where the aforementioned Lucy is seen to torture her long suffering kitty in ever more outlandish and stomach churning ways. 


Do you make any form of art yourself?

There’s a good reason why you’ve never heard of my art. It could be that like all the best street artists I guard my privacy obsessively, or it could just be that I realised at an early age that my abstract expressionist knock-offs were pedestrian at best. I’ll let you decide!

As we enter the depths of the Berlin winter, do you have any tactics for surviving these long grey months?

When I experienced my first Berlin winter a few years ago, I just hibernated in a warm room and waited for the winter to pass. “How long can the cold weather last?” - I asked myself with an almost childlike innocence. Cue to four months later, with the snow continuing to fall and the temperatures plummeting, I was close to breaking point. The next winter I was inspired by the older generation of Berliners to ignore the bleak weather and carry on as though this was merely a mild inconvenience. Many times I have watched in admiration as they huddle together in the doorway of a train station, before clutching their shopping bags tight and gritting their teeth, they stride with steely determination against the cruel Siberian winds. These people are made of tougher stuff. For the last couple of years I have chosen winter as a season for exploring the city. Too often I get locked in my own “kiez” mentality, so it’s a pleasure to discover some hidden gems. These quests to pastures new often begin with looking at the city map and picking a train station at random. This city is full of surprises; I recently discovered a fantastic Viennese café in Dahlem!

We shall follow your cue and take to the streets, thanks JJ!

from Schoeneberg to the Oberbaumbrücke with Finn

photo by Alexa Vachon

A native of Bangor, Northern Ireland, Finn has found a home in Berlin.  Sometimes places simply call us, and who are we to not listen...

I first visited Berlin in the summer of 2008 to look for accommodations, already convinced that I was going to move here. I was living in England, where I was studying, and felt ready to move on somewhere new. Berlin captivated me first through its cinema - my favourite movies of the time were 'Goodbye Lenin', 'The Edukators' and 'The Lives of Others' - and then through its literature. I was already a fully-fledged Berlin nerd before I ever even visited. I came to Schoeneberg searching for the queer scene, found my apartment here, and returned a few weeks later to move in. The night I landed, there had been a huge football match on (not being the greatest football aficionado I now find myself looking up the details: it was the UEFA Euro semi-finals, in which Germany beat Turkey 3-2) and I'll never forget taking a taxi from the airport to my new home and seeing in the distance the whole city exploding with fireworks.

You work also for Queer Berlin which has you touring a lot in the former West.  With the 25th anniversary of the Fall of the Wall just behind us, do you feel Berlin has fully 'reunited', or do you experience a particular change in atmosphere from former East to former West?

I do feel myself to be something of a 'Wessie', since I live in Schoeneberg and tend to spend most of my time either here or in Kreuzberg or Neukoelln, other former 'Western' boroughs, when I'm not at work. In fact, having to regularly traverse the whole city (and beyond) on our various tours is something for which I'm particularly grateful, since we do have a notorious tendency in Berlin to stick to our own 'kiez' or mini-neighbourhood. There are definitely differences in atmosphere between the different boroughs, but in the central districts this is probably less attributable by now to the East-West divide and more to the demographic shifts which have occurred in the last few years. The atmosphere in, for example, the gentrified Eastern borough of Prenzlauer Berg isn't so very different from the bougier parts of Kreuzberg; at the same time, the Western boroughs had their own dilapidation to contend with after WWII and also had their own enclaves of Communist support, like Schoeneberg's 'Rote Insel' or 'Red Island', so the supposed ideological chasm between East and West 
was probably never that clear-cut. Plus, due to the vastness of the city, regional consciousness is very strong here in a manner which seems to supersede the East-West divide: it seems to me that people are first of all proud of their 'kiez', then of their borough, and then of being a Wessie or an Ossie. Not to mention the fact that the city is evolving and diversifying so quickly that so much of its identity is still in flux and being perpetually redefined, which is one of the many things that makes it so exciting to be here at this moment. There are certainly problems associated with the new phenomenon of 'Ostalgie', 'nostalgia for the East' or what we might call the commercialism of communism, which to my mind promotes an unreliable understanding of the Cold War, but also garners a certain amount of wry humour. My favourite meditation on the reunification is probably Thorsten Goldberg's installation on the Oberbaumbruecke, the bridge near the East Side Gallery which formerly straddled the border between East and West: two neon hands, one on either side of the divide, playing a game of 'rock, paper, scissors' from nightfall to sunrise.

Your PhD is in film studies.  Do you work in the field also?  Can you write a bit about the film community in Berlin, which has an incredible history from Babelsburg to Weißensee... 

I've been involved in the production of a few films since moving here: as an actor, and also helping out behind the scenes on shoots directed by my partner, Liz Rosenfeld, who has just finished off a trilogy of movies set in the Weimar era. I'm officially Liz's 'historical advisor', but she has a true artist's quest for atmosphere superseding the more minor or factual details, so we have to agree to disagree on certain anachronisms! Berlin's film industry is truly rich: Babelsberg studios in Potsdam, the oldest functional large studio in the world, has been in action for over a century. Before the coming of sound to cinema and the subsequent language barrier, Potsdam was certainly neck-and-neck with Hollywood, and in many ways more innovative; you just have to look at 'Metropolis' or 'The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari' to see how ambitious early German cinema was. Of course the Nazis put a temporary stop to all that in producing their odd and suffusing mixture of bland genre films and overtly racist propaganda; but during the Cold War, Germany produces some of the most creative directors in the world: Fassbinder, Herzog, Wenders... and it's typical of Berlin's tenacity that it's now the focal point of the New German Cinema with the modern classics that first sparked my own fascination with the city. Since we walk through numerous different filming locations on any of our tours, I love to point these out to cinema fans!

Berlin also has an incredibly rich queer history.  Do you feel Berlin has returned to or surpassed the openness of the 'Roaring 20's', or do you feel the city and community have a ways to go?  Can you tell us a bit about Queerstories.

A big part of my motivation in moving to Berlin was to seek out queer family, a concept in which I very much believe, and I feel very lucky to have found that here. I feel that our community today is very engaged with its history and looks back with awe and gratitude to the work of pioneers like Magnus Hirschfeld (who you can read a bit more about in Jared's post), one of the first gay rights campaigners in the world and an adoptive Berliner who lived here until the beginnings of the Third Reich. In fact, talking of cinema, Hirschfeld worked on perhaps the first prolific gay movie of all time, 'Different from the Others', produced in 1919. He also assisted the medical treatments of some of the first transgender people to obtain hormone therapies and surgeries; Karl M. Baer, for example, a transman like me, lived in Schoeneberg and obtained legal recognition of his male gender and surgery in 1907. If anything, I sometimes wonder if we are still catching up with Hirschfeld and his contemporaries - you can't help but imagine what Berlin could have achieved in the subsequent decades were it not for the rise of the Nazi party. But as usual, the city bounced back marvellously after the fall of the Wall. These days, queer culture in Berlin is so pervasive that the city celebrated with four different Pride parades this year. If anything, my only fear is that our own political differences of opinion (primarily but not only when it comes to sexual politics) can serve to divide rather than unite us as queer Berliners. I do run a specific Queer tour through Schoeneberg, and my own queerness certainly influences my fascination in these narratives, but on any tour in the city it's vital to remember that Berlin has been shaped by queer figures who have been pioneers in their own times, from Friedrich the Great to Klaus Wowereit. My own homage to Hirschfeld is that tour but also the monthly storytelling event which I co-host in the bookstore Another Country (one of the world's top ten bookstores according to 'Lonely Planet'): we meet for dinner in the basement of the shop, and then have a line-up of musicians and storytellers with some open space for anyone who wishes to tell a spontaneous tale. The night is called Queerstories and everyone is welcome: if you're in Berlin while it's on, please drop by!
 
In asking the last question I am reminded of a memorial in Berlin that has always touched me deeply, the Neue Wache, as it is a memorial to all victims of war and tyranny, without distinction.  In recent years a number of memorials have been added to Berlin's urban landscape.  Are there any you find particularly successful or unsuccessful?

I also find the Neue Wache extremely powerful, particularly on a winter's day when snow falling through the building's open skylight is dappling the statue below. In keeping with the last question, the Gay Memorial is one of my favourites: I love the way in which the artists who designed it, Elmgreen and Dragset, managed to produce a celebratory, joyous memorial in playing a loop of a montage video of people kissing, a surprise inside a slanted slab of grey concrete. Politics aside (if possible) the Soviet Memorial in Treptower Park is always spectacular, particularly in the snow, and although as a tour guide you can expect to see the entire gamut of human behaviour here, for me the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe never fails to inspire awe. I find the politics of memorialisation in Germany very interesting - particularly when it comes to the nation's unique ability to gaze openly upon its history. You could compare, for example, the understated power of the Neue Wache with an 'Ehrenmal' or 'honour memorial' such as that on top of Kreuzberg's eponymous hill - or consider the curious tradition of adding to WWI memorials subtle plaques quietly commemorating the dead of WWII. To me, the most successful memorial is not only to be found in Berlin, but proliferates in the city: the 'stumble stones', small brass plaques outside the former homes, workplaces, schools, etc. of victims of the Nazis, which detail their fates. Whilst we celebrated the 25th anniversary of the fall of the Wall a few days ago, we also remembered the 76th anniversary of the pogrom the Nazis called 'Kristallnacht' in 1938. Returning home from seeing the 'Lichtgrenze', the installation of illuminated balloons marking out some of the path of the former Wall, I was struck to see candles flickering by every 'stumble stone' in my street. That's Berlin as a living memorial, suffused by a history which it bears sometimes with ease and sometimes heavily, but never with complacency. It's a place of innumerable layers and complexities - the city still has memorials to build, but its past is always tangible.

Alongside guiding and acting Finn writes for Siegessaeule, the prominent queer magazine out of Berlin, and is the proud owner of these two pups.  Thanks for taking the time Finn!

Jared, on anthropology, magic and dancing

Jared came to Berlin from Indiana where he studied Anthropology and Neuroscience.  The story of how he ended up moving here is one of my favourites from our guides; an entertaining example of one door closing and another opening.

In 2007, I was supposed to go to Africa to run a chimpanzee field research camp in Uganda for an anthropology/ primatology professor of mine, Kevin Hunt, but the expected funding didn't end up coming through and the site was shut down for a year a few months before I was set to depart. At the time, I was also doing a neuroscience degree and had been looking for further education in that direction oversees, or at least somewhere that still valued education as education instead of a lot of dollar signs and debt. Germany ended up being my next best thing, Berlin in particular. I lived in Berlin for about 1.5 years and then again after attaining my MS in neuro-cognitive psychology and some teaching and research in Munich. I had never visited Berlin before and my first reaction was bewilderment. Coming from essentially a suburban/rural satellite town near Chicago in Northwest Indiana, I had come to expect a bit of centralisation, a financial district, and lots of crime. I was initially rather disoriented, this city (Berlin), has no center, or rather everything is the center at once. Forget about a financial district, one can go to Frankfurt to see that. And as for crime, feel free to walk through a park or down a dark alley in the middle of the night and enjoy the scenery (for rates of violent crime in Germany see, http://www.civitas.org.uk/crime/crime_stats_oecdjan2012.pdf). As I grew more accustomed to the city I quickly fell in love, it's neighbourhood-centric organisation seems to fractionate Berlin into multiple Berlins - Berlin is many cities in one. If you can't find something for you in Berlin, it probably doesn't exist in the world. Berlin is a safe space (no assholes please), an inclusive space where ignorance and privilege are tolerated about as far as one could throw the TV tower. Feeling uppity and entitled? A bit of the old Berliner Schnauze (Berlin Attitude) will set you back in your rightful place with the rest of the human race. I love this place.
 
Germany, and Berlin in particular, has a rich scientific past.  Does living in this city affect or inspire your academic work?

I've studied a lot, from high school throughout all of my 20s. I started in American anthropology which has always been since its foundation under Franz Boas and Alexander von Humboldt (Boas' mentor and namesake of Humboldt University in Berlin) a relativist and holistic pursuit of culture, history, biology, and the human condition in general. It was through those studies that I came to neuroscience, via cognitive interests in our hairy cousins in Southeast Asia (orangs, gibbons) and Central Africa (bonobos, gorillas, chimps). Through it all, I've been interested in perspectives and bringing together diverse kinds of knowledge - from personal individual accounts to neuroimaging - as different elements of a possible description of the human condition. Berlin has definately been a muse in these regards, I don't know what I would have done without it. Berlins diversity, its comfort in states of change and dynamism has had me reexamine everything I do. I think Berlin helped me realize that we'll never have a complete picture of all of humanity, because someone is always going to react and break the mold, just because they can, just to try to do something beautiful. In short, I guess Berlin has really helped me to realize that normal is a myth. Magnus Hirschfeld is of particular interest to me in this regard, a gender campaigner and a human sexuality researcher before the term 'gender' existed, before Kinsey, and before Masters and Johnson. Hirschfeld, a self-identifying homosexual and Jew, lobbied and petitioned German society with vigour throughout the 1920s to show folks what might be possible and to chastise them for trampling folks underfoot that are, in the words of his clearly titled film on the topic, 'Different from the Others'. He got some things wrong, but he mostly stands out for me as an example of Berlin at its best and scientists at their best, keeping in mind the political ramifications of any scientific work.

photo by Jared, Berlin

Berlin is also rich in museums, with the range quite amusing and impressive.  Do you have any favourite institutions here, or is there an exhibition you have visited that stands out in your memory?

Hands down, the Pergamon Museum, but not for the Pergamon Alter. Rather, the gates of Babylon. Alexander the Great walked beneath those gates, and it's not so much the awe that might be inspired by Alexander. In truth he was a horrible despot who pressed multiple continents under his thumb and killed thousands upon thousands. It's the thought of this artifact coming from a time when the history we've recorded wasn't even history yet, it was myth and legend all bound up in one complicated mess. This gate is as close to magic as you can get in Berlin, which is a hell of a feat considering that magic doesn't exist. The Neues Museum is right up there too, the Egyptian collection, for precisely the same reason.

Speaking of magic, Berlin is notorious also for its range of free time activities, from its multitude of parks, to its clubs and galleries, all setting the stage for everything and anything.  Have you picked up any new hobbies since moving here?

I haven't really picked up new hobbies so to speak, but I've definitely been able to expand on all the old ones. I've been climbing for over 20 years and this city boasts a plethora of bouldering and climbing halls the likes of which I haven't really seen anywhere else in a big city. The club scene, I guess, would be my other great love in Berlin. This is probably the most inclusive and unpretentious of club scenes I've ever experienced. Dancing at Berghain you'll find a complete cross-section of Berlin in age, ethnic origins, sexuality, and physical ability (tip, if you want to get in, don't show up drunk, loud, macho, or nervous; wear what you want; and if you don't get in, don't fight about it). The music is world class, Berlin's DJs are definitely putting up their best on any evening you might chance to see them. Dancing in Berlin makes you feel like you've reconnected with your humanity. For thousands of years people have been pulling all-nighters, round campfires, drumming, singing, and generally having a good time; this is also possible in Berlin's clubs if you have the right attitude. Finally, I guess it's worth a mention that I absolutely delight in Berlin's parks on a Sunday afternoon in the middle of summer, you can't have a better time just lying around in the grass and listening to excellent buskers (if you hear pan flutes, run the other direction) giving it their all for money and just as often for fun.

Will you share your thoughts on the commemoration of the Fall of the Wall this past weekend.

The date is the 12th of November 2014, and I guess the one thing I and the revellers 25 years ago have in common is that we are both still recovering from the celebrations on a Tuesday. In all seriousness, the fall of the Wall was something I saw as a 7 year old shortly after Tiananmen Square in China. My parents had sat me down in front of the TV as events unfolded and the only thing I can really remember is a wall and a lot of happy drunk and high people dancing around on top of it with a giant gate in the background. My parents explained to me that these folks had been separated by their governments, and I couldn't for the life of me understand the sense of it. It's a surreal experience every time I see the Brandenburg Gate (the gate from my childhood) and think about what's changed from then to now. 25 years ago, I was 7, clueless, and had no Idea I would end up in this weird weird city Berlin relating anthropological, critical, and historical observations of Berlin, including the fall of the Wall, and showing folks some amazing things in the process. I celebrated at Bornholmer Straße, where the wall first crumbled, surrounding me, as I stood on the middle of the packed Böse bridge which once contained a checkpoint, I heard countless tales being related to friends and family about what people were doing on the 9th of November in 1989. I remember specifically a family, talking to their toddler age child, relating that they couldn't see any of their friends in the West for almost 30 years until that night 25 years ago. The child's response, "aber das macht keinen sinn" (German: 'but that doesn't make any sense'), made me think of myself when I was 7, and made me hope that we can get more people to think that way about all divisions and exclusions, I try to show people that child's profoundly and wonderfully naive perspective on all my tours, I think it's an important one.

Thank you Jared, Berlin itself is lucky that you found your way to this city.

25 Years Later - The Fall of the Berlin Wall

We take an intermission from our guide interviews this week for the anniversary of the Fall of the Berlin Wall.  So many extraordinary resources and stories have been surfacing I thought I would seize the opportunity to compile a selection.
   
I begin with a short interview from the man who shouted "Open the barrier!” and changed Berlin's reality literally overnight.  "It's not me who opened the Wall. It's the East German citizens who gathered that evening.  The only thing I can be credited with is that it happened without any blood being spilled...  I had never seen such euphoria, and I've never seen it since," Jäger said, smiling.  

http://m.thelocal.de/20141106/guard-who-opened-berlin-wall-harald-jaeger

Slow travel's look at 25 relevant Berlin locations is really fascinating.   Their first stop, the Bornholmer Strasse Border Crossing where Jäger was stationed on the 9th of November, 1989.

http://www.slowtravelberlin.com/25-favourite-gdr-and-wall-memorials/ 

  

I follow with the Berlin.de chronology of the Fall of the Wall and a view of  the Alexanderplatz demonstrations.

 

Foto: Bundesarchiv Bild 183-1989-1104-437, Berlin, Demonstration am 4. November - CC-BY-SA-3.0-de

http://www.berlin.de/mauerfall2014/en/25-years-fall-of-the-wall/chronology/

Construction of the“Berlin Wall Trail” (Berliner Mauerweg) was completed in 2006, turning the location of a wall of separation into a pathway for both recreational use and historical documentation.

http://www.berlin.de/mauer/mauerweg/index/index.en.php

To get an idea of just how drastically the cityscape has changed since 1989, buzzfeed put together a few images from the book “Berlin Wonderland - Wild Years Revisited”.

http://www.buzzfeed.com/nscholz/so-sehr-hat-sich-berlin-seit-1990-verandert

I end with another interview, this time with Heiko age 52, who was a East Berlin resident in 1989.  She notes many small surprises she found herself faced with upon passing through the Bornholmer Strasse Border, and the relevance of those events today.

http://mauer.visitberlin.de/en/unbelievable-incredible-impossible-absolutely-crazy/