Our journey began at 530 am Saturday morning after Caroline’s art show. On the train, my mind kept trailing back to the show the night before. Most of our friends in Berlin were there for MIXED METHODOLOGIES at @wirwirberlin Session PICTURE BERLIN @berlinartweek, on 16 September, at 19h Performance by Najia Fatima starting at 19.30.
Caroline’s image of bodies, women’s bodies, from people we know all over Brooklyn, lay on the ground, where people walked upon them, stepped on them, the first step encroaching on freedoms, on women’s bodies. With the loss of constitutional protections for women’s bodily autonomy, the proxy skirmishes of our Cold Civil seem to be whirling. 14th amendment equal protections are on the chopping blocks, beginning with women’s rights. We write about it, create art about it, think about the history, throughout the year, here in Berlin where they have seen what happens when civil rights erode.
My talk in Praha continued the theme. I was taking part in the conference, Anarchism in the “Other Europe”:
From the fin de siècle to the Present
Workshop, 16–17 September 2022, Prague.
Will joined me for the train ride to Praha, strolling through the rain, speaking with activists here, taking on the waves of hostilities, history, through 500 year old pubs and Klub
Újezd, one of the strangest pubs ever, surrealist landscapes reminding us.
So much to reflect on, looking at this city, ever struggling for freedom, ever elusive, briefly gained after 1918 until WWII, and then another occupation during the cold war.
Now it's one of the most beloved cities in the world, over loved, tourism and the sea of identical details looming. Still a cross section of ideas, move through these ever twisting corridors, navigating between their many pasts.
Sunday, we walk all morning, in the rain, chatting with Ukrainian workers and organizers at Cafe Sicily for an interview on the conflict, refugees, migrations and bodies.
And we kept on moving, taking a train to Pilsen, founded in 1295 by King Wenceslas II, the west Bohemian town of Pilsens located on a trade route from the German borders to Prague. During the 15th century Hussite wars, Pilsen sided with the Catholics. The city was never conquered during this war. We explore tunnels used to protect the citizens here. Beer, green buildings, and a lot of amazing people here. They still use trolleys and take pride in their spectacular beer, reveling in their history, from the Thirty Years War to the end of communism. In lots of places it still feels like the Eastern Block but it's open to so much. 24 hours wasn't enough, but the road calls.
On the train, my traveling companion grabbed a beer and pontificated about churches and kings, beer and cholera, the Thirty Years War through the Cold War.
Rolling into Regensberg, grabbing a wurst and a view of the old medieval quarter, now at UNESCO World Heritage Site, famous for its history dating back to the Holy Roman Empire.
Between a majestic river and beer hall, lots of trees, a town that was bombed and thrives, there was a lot to see. We spend the evening in a majestic old world beer hall chatting away.
By the next morning, we were on our way to Munich and its honkey tonk like Octoberfest.
Traditional garb, harkening to another time, for everyone to see.
Wills friends from Sweden drop by, joining us for a round.
Funny singing Country Road Take me home in Germany. They do like sing alongs here.
Things did descend at Oktoberfest. Lots of singing, lots and lots of it, lots and lots of old songs.They love John Denver and Neil Diamond here. Who knew? No one sang
Deutschland uber Alles.
But it looked like they might.
It's hard to feel completely comfortable here.
The news has often felt dark from here.
The first Olympics I heard about was the 1972 Olympics in which the Israeli athletes were held captive and eventually killed, the bungling German cops were unable to rescue them, cruel irony after irony.
Only three and a half decades earlier, Chamberlain returned from here waving his signed deal, regarding “Peace in Our Time” before World War II in 1938.
The year before the city hosted the “Degenerate Art” show. It included worlds of contemporary masters, Klee, Kandinsky, Beckmann and others.
“The work was called 'sick' and put in the trash heap. The sentiments expressed toward contemporary art by Jesse Helms, Pat Robertson and Mayor Giuliani recall the language used by the Nazis,” said Hans Haacke.
The city has a great deal to show us, as we navigate our own cultural trails and crises.
At least that's what I was thinking as Will and I walked past the brothels and the train station on the way to the memorial of "Beer Hall Putsch" Nov 9,1923, in which Hitler tried to overturn the Weimar Government. After the failed coup, he had a plaque placed there that people needed to salute as they passed.
The beer hall itself didn’t survive.
What one does see is a trail, supposedly taken by those who took a detour rather than salute. Gratitude.
Caroline, who lived here in 1989 and 1990, suggested we go to the Alte Pinakothek, to take in its masters. ”In the ALTE PINAKOTHEK you can admire the development of art from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance and Baroque to the late Rococo. From Goya to van Gogh« is the motto of the NEUE PINAKOTHEK. In the first museum of contemporary art in Europe, today major works of classicism of Romanticism, Art Nouveau, Impressionism and the Nazarenes are represented as well as the great pioneers of modernism Manet, Cezanne and van Gogh. The gallery of the Neue Pinakothek is closed to the public for several years for structural reasons and in preparation for extensive renovation measures. A selection of masterpieces of 19th century art is shown on the ground floor of the Alte Pinakothek (east wing) and in the Schack Collection.”
On we stroll, taking in the rendering of St Sebastian, unhappy and happy babies... among the treasures. St Sebastian is soooo hot, especially as rendered by Van Dyck, Breugel nose, the sensual works, stories of everyday life, new subjectivities,
“I lock my door upon myself.” Fernand Khnopff 1891art nouveau masterpiece, boys playing on a boat, Klimt’s portrait of Wittgenstein, on and on.
The art here is astounding.
But the memorials are what stick with me, particularly after our stroll to the memorial of the flyers of Sophie Scholl and her comrades in the White Rose let fly at their school. Just kids, they gave their lives for a creative gesture. Free speech and courage cost her her life. People did speak out. They lost their lives for doing so.
Just kids, just kids.
A visceral gut reaction grips me standing looking at renderings of the flyers on the ground.
That was where I went my Junior year, says Caroline when I tell her.
It could have been her, our kids, any kids.
Imagine her last hours, the things she was thinking, feeling, that she endured.
On we walk into the subway, where we caught a train to the country to hike 10k up and down a mountain to a monastery. Think Narcissus and Goldmund. Wow.
The road welcomes, open air for a hike, to breath, a small abby on top, a few pints, stories.
On the road again, Munich to Berlin via Nuremberg. Quite a week, down to Praha Saturday, up to Pilsen, Regensberg, and Munich, through some of the best art and the darkest of histories, hiking into the evening, eating dinner at a monastery, and hiking back through the woods down to the train station, listening to owls hooting the darkness,talking about mom, dad, the cowboys, and Robert Louis Stevenson's journeys and our own through this life.
“I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move,” writes Stevenson.
I guess he has a point.
To move, to think, to learn from history, from each other.
And then to go back to Berlin, reflecting on Munich and reality that there was something in the German soul which thought it was ok to kill six million Jews, along with queer people, those with disabilities, etc. It’ll be a year of the year reflecting on those moments when people go after their neighbors. The Juden down the street from us here, who saw their synagogue burned down, before they were sent on trains to camps.
But it's larger than a German problem.
Today, Germany is taking the lead in embracing refugees, while others put up barriers and the prison industrial complex looms in the US devouring lives.
We are a little tired from the train on our Thursday return.
Friends from the USA are here visiting.
Berlin calls.
Prater Beer Garden and a stop by Muller, Caroline’s favorite new spot. on Knaackstraße 14, chatting away with the amiable owner.
Friday
Will and I bike ride through the Tiergarten.
Thinking of Benjamin riding here and Frederick creating Berlin’s central park in 1786 for his Brother Prince Ferdinand, building it with a nod to classical and baroque architecture.
Max and company meet us at Kotti later that night.
Lots and lots of sirens and screams along the way, anti Capitalist demos, the whole world reacting to news from Iran.
The Times reports, “Iran is aflame with protests.” Scenes of “Ferocious protests.”
“Ferocious dissent,” says David Linart. “Few independent journalists are working inside Iran today. But videos, emails and other information coming from inside the country suggest that Iran is experiencing its most significant protests in more than a decade. The demonstrations began after a 22-year-old, Mahsa Amini, died in police custody on Sept. 16, having been arrested for violating Iran’s law requiring women to wear head scarves fully hiding their hair. This weekend, the protests spread to at least 80 cities, and demonstrators briefly seized control of a city in northwestern Iran. In response, the country’s security forces have opened fire on crowds.”
We see the demos all over Berlin, particularly in Turkish KreuzbergAnd we chat about the demos at Lasan Restaurant, a Middle Eastern place in Kotti.
After dinner, we drop by Schlawinchen, a dingy bar that Kai told me about.
And keep on exploring, off to Cassiope and home.
Saturday, we do it all again, for a lovely night listening to klezmer music at the lyric Cafe... Thinking of Al and Arnie and the big tribe who know sorrowful music together.....
And a trip to 8MM Bar, on Schönhauser Allee 177 b, for a late night hang.
Sunday, off to Flo Markets, zipping through the city, meeting for a glass of wine with friends from the states. Sooo fun seeing max and jen and Cara all weekend long....exploring the city.
And word of another passing from the states. I find myself thinking about Pharoah Sànders ... In a timeless set at the village vanguard ... Days of my life spinning... Music... Swirling... Dancing to the blues... Pharoah smiling.... Jamming for hours... Through a kaleidoscope... Working through time....
Bike over to join Max, Jenn and Cara and then back to 8MM, for a night of trash disco and punk with #cumgotl8. Last time we saw them was at Market Hotel, in Brooklyn in July.
Tonight its Berlin, 8MM Live - Cumgirl8 (NYC based post-punk/punk/riotgrrrls) + Dj Henrelaxer3700 “Super excited for tonight's Sunday show! The closing event of the wild, whirl-wind 4 date Berlin tour by NYC based Post-Punk, Riot Grrrl, Experimental, Dance, Rock n Roll band Cumgirl8, framed by dj Henrelaxer3700 & presented by Bretford.
'cumgirl8 is a rising punk band from NYC known for their raucous live shows. Blast the bombastic quartet's spazzy spacey (and very solid) self-titled debut album below. And then go see them play. That's the key. The key to everything. Cumgirl8 cuming to Berlin in September ! the closing event of the wild week with 4 shows will take place at 8mm bar, framed by dj Henrelaxer3700 & presented by Bretford…Brooklyn quartet cumgirl8 placed themselves at odds with the powers that be the second they gave their group its salacious name. It gets them booted from social media platforms and largely precluded from the pages of music’s major broadsheets, but their story doesn’t end with shock value. They may be provocateurs, but they also make a fiery brand of post-punk that would sound just as good under a tamer moniker. -Fader Listening to NYC quartet cumgirl8 feels like going back in time and catapulting to the year 2040 all at once. It’s a heady, latex-clad future-nostalgia that’s part dial-up chatroom, part pioneering punk, and three parts sex-positive dreamgirl from outer-space. -Hero…Their stage performances are a proverbial exclamation point, one that pogos from one act to the next. An incendiary noise romp that growls at and then humours its audience.”
Such a great show last night at 8MM. I ran into one of the singers at the bar b4 it started saying I'd seen them at Market Hotel Brooklyn earlier in the summer. They are my faves.
Berlin's sick she said. We haven't slept for three days. A lot of us begin to feel that way here. Thanks for the heads up @mothtreee, who told me about the shows after their summer in Berlin.
Federico joined me to gossip about things after the show, taking in the colorful scene. Rock and roll on the juke box, the band stumbling out onto the street, one member after the next with their various Berlin groupies, looking fabulous.
Next morning, we’d need to rise for Visa appointments.
And a stop by the Ghost Station at Nordbahnhof, an easie station with exits east and west, now a time capsule, as well as a working subway stop.
Back home, I’d write and sit for a bit before keeping on. Bike rides from one side of the city to another, Mauer to Gorlitzer Park, Neukolln to the squats, museums to cafes, a fun few days with Max, Jenn and Cara.
Another week of lessons and stories, unpeeling the Berlin history and the present, ever swirling together through time.
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