Tilly Michell discusses the influence of cultural identity on art in Berlin

Berlin has been shattered and rebuilt so many times in the past century that the whole concept of public art has come to represent an imperative form of cultural identity. The city’s young, tenacious underclass projects its socio-political voice onto the peeling skin of high brick walls, corporate buildings and toilet cubicles without impediment, making Berlin one of the few places in the world where art remains the non-bureaucratic, unrestrained voice of the people.

This, at least, is what I could grasp from Wikipedia when three months ago I decided, spur of the moment that I should go and visit my friend, Jaycob, a journalist/DJ/ student who, like most Germans I know, wants to experience everything in the world so long as he can do so in Berlin. When last August he invited me to stay on his floor and experience German culture as it truly is I jumped at the chance, swiftly ordering myself a walkman and a pair of Dr. Martins in preparation for a glorious week of pounding up and down Wasserstrasse screaming “REVOLUTION! REVOLUTION!” to the beat of Kraftwerk’s Autobahn.

The first thing that struck me when I arrived in the city was the buzzing mood of rapid regeneration; every building seemed to have been reinvented in the past twenty years. Factories have become clubs, train stations have been converted into galleries and mansions have been taken over as squats, whilst the structural remains of the country’s fractured past have morphed into bright tourist attractions. We dashed excitedly through the streets, going from famous landmarks to buzzing techno parties, me chugging Kronenburg and bratwurst like water and performing animated impressions of John Cleese’s ‘Don’t mention the war!’  sketch to anyone who would listen.

One evening, we stumbled across the raucous opening party of a small exhibition in the ex-wartime hospital Künstlerhaus Bethanien. The installation, by Can Altey, was called Setting a Setting / Forecasting a Broken Past, and seemed to incorporate all the undercurrents of division and guilt that I had come across time and again when talking to young Berliners. Through a series of sound- and video-related exercises, Atley explored the tensions between the concepts of freedom and cohesion in urban society. The exhibition was fascinating, for, although one can now walk with haunting ease through an area which 20 years ago people died to cross, Berlin has remained socially divided.  “Nobody really moves.” Jaycob told me, “If you were born in the East you stay there and vice versa.” 

On visiting The East Side Gallery (a 1.3km section of Berlin Wall that has been preserved as a memorial) we got chatting to a French artist who had been invited by the government to re-paint the mural he’d graffitied in1989. When asked what he thought about this recreation he scoffed; “Eet is not the same! Back zen we ‘ad belief, we ‘ad passion! Now all we ‘ave is corporate sponsorship.” Admittedly it did feel strange seeing the scars of recent history done up like a fairground ride, but Berlin is like that. Old images are hastily scratched off and pasted over, memory is repackaged and the past quickly relegated to history. The East Side Gallery is brilliant in what it is: a m­­emorial. If it can no longer artistically reflect the issues of contemporary Germany, it is because it belongs to another time. 

At the end of my stay, Jaycob made me watch his student film on the notion of cultural identity. The precept of the work was this: with no wall to tear down, our generation of Germans has had to bear the full brunt of the disaffection that inevitably comes from historical shame. Unable to find a sense of self in the past they have carved a new and personal identity for themselves. For me the film rang true and explained why Berlin is such a youth-driven city, why the walls look like album sleeves and every street corner holds a techno party. It also demonstrated why much of the best artwork that Berlin has to offer can be seen for free.  Though I went to The Hamburger Bahnhoff and Kunst-Werke galleries (queue juvenile giggles), the artwork on the white-washed walls seemed bland and stunted in comparison to the flair that can be seen on the streets. In this way the Berlin art scene is quite unique in Europe, changing its face so rapidly that institutions are simply unable to keep up.  In a world watered down by globalization, the raw passion of Berlin provides a refreshing antidote to 21st century artistic apathy.

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