We arrived in Berlin a day ago after a seemingly never ending train ride from Amsterdam. Seriously, it was only 6 hours and we were in a first class car, but it just seemed to go on and on. I think that was my worst day for feeling sick with this cold so even an hour journey would have felt like 100!
By the time we got to Berlin I was in a blur. I do not really remember the arrival at all. We are staying at the Hotel Adina near Checkpoint Charlie and I LOVE it. The room is a huge suite - about 5 times the size of a normal European hotel room. I like the separate sleeping, living, eating, bathroom, and tiny kitchenette areas. I can't believe we got it for 85 euros a night . . . must have been an off-season deal.
Yesterday I was feeling 10000000 times better. After Nancy and I got our schedules synched via e-mail we met in the lobby and headed down to the Jewish Museum. It is located just south of the hotel in Berlin's vibrant Kreuzberg district. Built in 1999 and opened in 2001, it’s an attempt by architect Daniel Libeskind to express not only the horrors of the Holocaust, but also to examine the broader history of Jewish life and culture in Germany.The museum’s striking zinc clad structure, with its violent slashes for windows and unsettling zig-zag form, is intended to resemble a “dislocated” Star of David when viewed from above, readily indicates to visitors that they are not in for a comfortable experience.
The entrance to the museum is via an adjacent Baroque building, built in 1736, that originally housed the Prussian chamber court and later the City Museum. This all feels normal enough.
However, once you’ve passed the security check, things change quite dramatically. A steep black staircase descends into the heart of the main building, and what Libeskind describes as his ‘Trio of Axes’ – three lengthy, geometrically skewed corridors that crisscross to represent different aspects of the Jewish-German experience.
Along the Holocaust Axis, visitors pass a series of eerily lit display cases that showcase anti-Jewish Nazi propaganda, and personal mementos from those who either survived or were murdered in the Holocaust; an embroidered Star of David and phylacteries from Leo Sheuer, who spent 15 months hiding in a hole in the ground; letters between “Aimee and Jaguar”, two female resistance fighters and lovers who were separated by the Nazis and never saw see each other again.
At the end of this series of heartbreaking personal stories awaits the Holocaust Tower. Entered via a heavy metallic door, the tall, cold, strangely-angled structure is relieved only by a thin slit at the top that lets in a tiny amount of light and the muffled sounds of the outside world. I spent considerable time in there alone - it was amazing how the design evoked such powerful feelings - being separate, helpless, lost, hopeless, and fear.
At the end of the Axis of Emigration lies another disorienting experience; the Garden of Exile. This installation comprises 49 concrete columns that on first appearance look weirdly crooked, until you realise that the columns are in fact straight. It’s the ground that’s askew. This sudden perceptual shift causes a feeling of nausea that increases as you stroll in and around these towering, specifically built by Libeskind to provoke the alien, unnerving experience of exile.
The final Axis – the Axis of Continuity – winds its way through the rest of the building and, with the exception of the occasional deliberate dead-end (including one right at the top of the main stairs), thoughtfully-placed void, leaves behind the darker expressions of absence and disappearance to enter more familiar museum territory.
The broader story about the Jewish relationship with Germany comes almost as a relief, especially given the enjoyably innovative and varied nature of the exhibition. Spread over two vast floors, visitors find oil paintings, reproduced texts, films and touchscreen presentations, a coin minting machine, and lots of personal histories of the famous (Einstein, Rathenau, Liebermann) and the forgotten, such as the journal of Glikl bas Juda Leib, which gives rare insights into 17th century Jewish life for Jewish women.
We also learn of how anti-Semitism was a part of the Jewish-German relationship pretty much from the offset - at first based upon religious prejudices and later political/pseudo-scientific ones. Of course, the events leading up to the Holocaust are also covered, with further eruptions of the museum’s overarching themes of loss and absence.
It was an art instalation, Fallen Leaves (Shalekhet) by Menashe Kadishman, the cut the sharpest. When first viewed from above it looks like an interesting space with objects on the floor. When you focus on those objects you realize you are looking at faces with their mouths frozen open in a scream. These 10,000 open mouthed faces are coarsely cut from heavy, circular iron plates cover the floor. The text panel in the museum said that this exhibition dedicates it to all innocent Jews victims of violent and war . Also the title “Fallen Leaves” raises suggestion both negative predestination and of hope for new life in the coming spring”
I had just got to the main exhibit when I started to receive e-mails from Nancy to say she was done and waiting. While she didn't intend for me to rush, she was content to enjoy a snack from the wonderful cafe and read her Berlin books, I suddenly felt pressure to get moving. In the end I missed a large number of exhibits meaning a return visit is required. I was also conscious of the time - it was close to 1:00 PM and our walking tour started from the Brandenburg Gate at 2:00 PM. We had no idea how long it would take to get there so we wanted plenty of time!
Off we went . . .
The tour we had booked was similar to the free tour we enjoyed in Amsterdam. In fact, it was offered by the same company and the tour concept originated in Berlin. The tour itself is free - at the end you pay the guide what you think he/she deserves based upon the tour.
Our guide was an American history grad who had been in the city for 6 years. There was an interesting contrast between the Amsterdam guide, who used history as entertainment, and our Berlin guide (George), who used history to inform and educate.
I won't go through the entire three hour tour because this would be the longest blog post EVER. I'll do separate posts on some of the things we saw and sites we visited. That being said, some of the highlights for me:
The Brandenburg Gate.
The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe.
The unpaved, non-descript parking lot underneath which are the ruins of Hitler's bunker where he spent the last 4 months of the war and where he committed suicide as the Russians stormed into the city.
The Berlin Wall. At this point I am standing in the so-called 'death strip' in East Berlin. 25 years ago I would have been shot dead for standing here.
One of the many pieces of the wall used for art installations. I understand that they are whitewashed over (or whatever technique they use) and new art is painted on top on a regular basis.
The double brick line that runs throughout the city. It shows where the Berlin Wall once stood.
The famous Berlin street food - currywurst. A grilled sausage chopped up, covered with curry powder and curry ketchup. Sounds gross but actually tasted yummy - even better with a beer. :-)
Gendarmenmarkt - where the 'twin churches' are located and the concert hall. The beautiful square is where Berlin's main Christmas Market is held in December.
Bebelplatz where you'll find Humboldt University, one of Berlin’s most prestigious universities dating back to 1810. This is the location of the infamous 1933 Nazi book burnings. When you walk into the square you will see many people staring down at the ground but once you get closer you will see a sunken glass plate between the pavement that provides a view into a room full of empty bookshelves. The art work of the Israeli artist Micha Ullman is called “Library”. These empty bookshelves could accommodate about 20,000 books which represent the books which the Nazis burnt on May 10th, 1933 on this spot.
There was also a plaque which included a quote from Heinrich Heine written in the mid-18oos that had a chilling accuracy . . .
That was only a prelude, there
where they burn books,
they burn in the end people.
It was poignant to visit at twilight. In the centre of the square was a woman playing music on her violin that would have been burnt in the fires as it was composed by a Jew - I loved the quiet defiance of art over the ugliness of book burning. Also many of the rooms in Humbolt university which overlooked the square showed wall after wall filled with books.
We are travelling to Germany and Austria in May arriving in Frankfurt and leaving from Munich because I realy want to see The Bodansee and the Salzburg area I wonder if we will find currywurst in the south? A bunch of great flavours combined into one dish and it looks like you have french fries in the dish too.
Posted by: michele harrison | January 13, 2014 at 03:24 PM
I am not sure -mu understanding is that currywurst is a Berlin thing - odd. It was unusually tasty. :-)
Posted by: JDeQ | January 19, 2014 at 07:30 AM