The Fate of the Shrine

Over the past two days we have torn down the show, said our goodbyes to many friends and a bittersweet void has filled the atelier. Of the twenty two pieces the four of us created, 10 were sold for cash, 5 were traded for meals or lodging at the infamous New Zealand Café, one was donated to the Grunburger community house and four pieces are staying for the international exhibit later this week. This left us with two pieces to distribute to the streets of Berlin. One was a shrine created by Dion made of broken windshield glass, rocks and other unsuitable things for children to play with – the other piece was a very heavy mirror collage created by Lilla which was too heavy for the hostel wall.
We scouted the neighbourhood for places to do two street installations and found a lovely tree pole for the mirror – fortunately close by and we hung it with ease. The shrine was harder to find a home for as it needed a flat surface and many of the power boxes and postal boxes that line the streets have a curved roof, which is possibly to prevent such things as this from taking place. After some perseverance we found one box with a flat roof at eye level and with a little ceremony left it on top. It looked beautiful in the sunlight and we all retreated to the café across the street to watch passer-by’s response to the piece while we had an iced Kaffee in the beautiful September afternoon.
Leo loved the idea of our art becoming a part of the street and promised to come by once per day on his way to coffee and take photos and sent them to us in Canada. This seemed like a perfect end to our crime and a way to stay involved.
But fate or theft intervened. Last night on our way to a party we walked by the shrine to see how it looked at night and to our surprise and delight it was gone. It survived less than four hours on the Berlin streets. So much for Leo’s photo essay.
Dion was terribly disappointed, but in my heart I know it was adopted by someone who found it attractive, broken glass and all and that it has gone to a good home, hopefully someone’s garden. But we will never know and that is how it should be.

Art Crimes

My family has been and gone. My sister April arrived with Tristan last week and made quite the impact during their short stay here. April is everyone’s new best friend and has already been offered a job by Pablo to run his European empire. She also had Pablo biking and going to the gym with her at six am. Tristan managed to ..ahem…meet a German intern student. Enough said on that evening of his life. The big excitement was his arrest.
As previously mentioned a few of us had talked with Pablo about painting the exterior shutters to the gallery to eradicate them of bad street art and replace them with good street art. Tristan has done a few “tags” in skate parks etc, never anything illegal before, but was keen to assist in the project as part of his stay here in Berlin.
We purchased our supplies a few days earlier at one of the unbelievable specialty street avenger stores – where they sell spray paint in four foot cans, markers and other impulse items such as balaclavas. We thought it the perfect night, Lilla and Harveys last, Sven’s first and also election night and a full moon to boot. What could go wrong?
Declining the need for balaclavas or other disguises, we brazenly walked over to the gallery as Pablo had said if we got into any trouble, all we would have to do was simply say that he had given us permission. So we really embarked on the project as a condoned, risk free kind of street art, but still thought we should have look outs. Mom and Dad opted to be the lookouts and Tristan the first artist. At one am the streets were still quite crowded so things went slowly –being Canadian and all it was hard not to be naturally circumspect about technically illegal art applications. After about an hour the parents faded…being a lookout is hard work and after all it was now well after two am. No one had seemed to even notice us except for one guy who had raised a fist. Checking with Tristan if he was ok to finish without us we left, assuming we would complete our part of the project the next day. He was only four blocks from his hostel. Apparently right after we left is when the police car pulled up. We now figure the gesture of the raised fist was in fact the nieghbour who called them. We had thought it a symbol that we were cool – raised fists werent covered in our travel guide to Berlin.
Tristan tried the Pablo’s permission story, but the police wanted Pablos last name and address. Tristan sort of remembered where Pablo lived and then oddly the police chose to give him the benefit of the doubt and decided to walk with him to Pablos house to talk with him. Unbeknownst to Tristan Pablo isn’t his real name so once they were at his door buzzer – none on the names were even close, Tristan didn’t want to start randomly ringing buzzers at two am, so they nicely arrested him and took him to the station. He had to explain why as a Canadian he had done this art crime and fill out a form in German stating he would never do it again. Finally he was searched and then set free miles from his hostel at four thirty am with no idea where he was. Amazingly he found his way back by going into bars and cafes and asking for directions back to the neighborhood.
The current status of the art crime project is “a work in progress” but seeing as the police confiscated our thirty euros worth of four foot paint cans of that is how it will likely stay.
Pablo still think it looks better than it did before

Sixty Years On

The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe was created by New York architect, Peter Eisenman and is Berlin's newest landmark. It opened July of this year and is already being called The Holocaust Memorial. I’ve been there twice and plan to go again as I find it intriguing and well concieved. The concept itself is simple: 2,711 stone slabs of varying heights and irregular tilts are arranged in a rectangular pattern right near the Brandenburg Gate. Between them runs a grid of narrow paths, and when you venture into the middle of this field of slabs, they swallow you up and soon tower over you. On a bright sunny day, as on my first visit, the slabs offer you shade and a dazzling display of dark shadows. In the rain on my second visit they offer shelter. The memorial is not overbearing, nor overstated, just quietly somber and yet children would likely be inclined to run or play hide and seek in it.
The memorial invites you to walk individually through its mazelike paths and you walk alone with your thoughts but you are also continually being surprised by another visitor suddenly appearing from the left or right. There is a lot of random bumping into people. But no matter how deep you venture amid the tallest of the slabs, every intersection has four clear straight ways out. Doing some research on the memorial I found out the following: that 2,711 is a prime number, and also apparently the number of pages in the Babylonian Talmud. Another theory is that 2711 squared is a little over seven million, representing the approximate number of Jews killed. The concrete slabs also seem to represent graveyards and some slabs already have small stones placed on their edges, which is apparently a sign of respect for the dead in Jewish cemeteries. The lack of rules for interaction i.e. no running etc. was apparently also intentional and is something that forces an individual response.
As I read on one Jewish web site, this memorial is not for the Jews, as they have their own but for Germany herself and her people, in their changing capital, to care for, grow with and remember.
Sixty years on there is still much to remember

Vernissage One

Here in Berlin they call art openings “Vernissage” a nice French sounding word pronounced “ver-nay-saj”. We have attended several since our arrival and have been invited to so many it’s been hard to keep track of them all. There was some mix up as to the official date of ours, we were originally told it was the 14th, then Pablo’s publicist had it as the 16th so we printed all our invitations and posters with that corrected date. Then the four women painters who are from Germany, Brussels and Stockholm who are doing the show in the front gallery, had apparently hired dancers and drummers for the 15th. So in the end to appease all parties we decided to do a vernasache on both dates, and the first one was last night.
There were about 60 – 70 people in attendance, mostly supporters and fans of the four women painters but we did have several people come to see our show as well. There were dancers and drummers, slide shows, cheap wine, strange snacks and gasp…..art sales!!!
Sandy the primary painter in the womens show sold seven paintings to one collector and we made five sales from our show. Now mind you ours are going for about 90% off, but it was still thrilling none the less and yours truly sold 3 pieces. Some of our art will now be going to live in Miami, Brussels and Berlin.
So I am happy to report that I have paid for at least one of my boots, let’s say the left one, the whole of the sexy skirt and all the second hand store purchases and still have change left over for a few 1 Euro veggie-donairs.
Life is good.

Das Hunds

I have to mention the dogs in Berlin as I am missing my own dear muttkins.
From our first sighting on the flight from Munich of a woman with a Dashund as carry on luggage, we have continued to see dogs in a large variety of new non North American ways. First of all “das hunds” here all seem to have never made the irrevocable one way trip to the vet to get “tutored” and proudly display their intact testicles. This may explain the sheer quantity of hunds we see. After awhile seeing dogs in bars, cafes, restaurants, malls, on trains, buses, streetcars, and on both the Ubahn and the Sbahn seems perfectly normal. My favourite sighting so far was a dog riding on the back of a bicycle.
I’m not quite sure how he was hanging on – but I was impressed with his skills
Dog owner culture varies form North America and very few dogs here have ever known the restraint of a leash, or had their “sheiss” picked up after them. They run free but seem to have developed a terrific traffic sense and wait patiently for lights and their owners to catch up.
Small dogs are the most popular dog and cross all age and gender groups as far as ownership, other than the punks who all have a cross between a shepard, pit bull, boxer or lab, and always seem to own several dogs. This is definitely not a culture of purebreds, and the funniest dog I saw had the body of a dashund and then large oversize boxer head. He looked quite impressed with what genetics had given him.
There are minor dog disputes under the odd restaurant table and the occasional use of the testicles in parks and of course the sidewalk goodies to avoid, but all in all das hunds of Fredrichshian are delightful to watch in their natural habitat. They know they rule.
I have not seen a single cat.

Das Fruit War

September 11th was not just the fourth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the USA but here in Berlin the date of the annual “fruit war” between the East (Friedrichshain) and the West (Kreuzberg) In the middle of a bridge not far from where the Berlin wall once stood there is apparently an annual condoned war fought with fruit, water balloons, paint and other things guaranteed to keep dry cleaners in business.
We heard about this event last night as a recommendation by Toby our Swiss House-mate as a place to take my Father who had just arrived in Berlin. Thinking it best to skip a riot with my seventy one yr old father we instead went out to a lovely Sunday brunch and then walked it off all day at the Zoogarten. A nice family outing right – My Father even offered to buy me a balloon and an ice cream.
We then headed back to Friedrichshain by U-Bahn- only to arrive right when the battleground was being set. While on the train across the bridge we saw the riot police and the crowds forming, then once at our station we saw thousands of people headed to the “war”. Many were armed in home made protective gear from garbage bags to elaborate paper shields – all were carrying various weaponry of fruit, some even with eggs, coffee ground, paint guns, and one guy was just pulling his rolling trash cans. There were children and dogs along – obviously this is also a family affair.
All day long we had been professing the charms of Friedrichshain’s lovely cafes and convinced my father to come to our neighbourhood for dinner, I hadn’t mentioned the potential of fruit warfare to my father so he was a tad alarmed to see punks armed with rotten tomatoes, beer and dogs greet us as we walked to the atelier.
The entire walk home – the people just kept coming – we realised we were in no imminent danger – but certainly decided it was not going to be a photo-op we would chose to participate in. Well I probably would have if not for my dear old Dad.
Then up drives Leo one of our fellow studio mates from Croatia. He has slime all over his pants. “Have you seen vat is going on out there” he yelled. He inadvertently stopped his car to pick up something from a store, noticed a burning vehicle and before he could flee was hit by a barrage of fruit salad. He said he was scared – “I thought vas war – like in home country – then vas ok- just produce” He then stayed and took a whole photo essay and had the orange juice stains to prove it. I was a little bit jealous.

Party-Arty

To start our second weekend in Berlin we went back to the Lovelite the local nightclub as we had been invited to the “American BBQ”. Imagine walking through what looks like two old garage doors, appropriately covered with street art to an open courtyard with a nightclub on one side, a ping pong table and leatherette car benches on the other side, a BBQ in the middle and to top it off an empty garage that serves as a performance space.
This same performance space that last week had been filled with the polish punks doing the most amazing stencil art ever, to my initial disappointment was now all painted over. Turns out they change the space each week with a new exhibition, this week it was a unusual installation to do with some obscure poet and antler inspired graphics. (It had to be explained to me or I would never have understood the concept.) We met Yanneq the producer of what he calls “Party Arty -vibes from different tribes-” and tonight was “Shpoken Vord” night. We informed Yanneq of Harvey’s poetic abilities and before we knew it Harvey had a gig!
We were recruited to help with the removal of punks from benches and the performance space was set up – meanwhile the BBQ was in full swing and musicians started to set up.
Finally Spoken Word was ready to begin (about midnight!!) and there was four performers besides Harvey. First up was a funny story by Yanneq himself about vitamins, Dr. Flebber and a rap band (this was my impression as it was all in German), next was a performance by a couple that I have no idea what it was about but I guessed it had to do with sexual innuendo and a “pick up”, then Harvey’s wonderful poetry in blessed English, then an Ani Di Franco kind of singer who did one nicely executed song on an out of tune guitar, then a Tom Waits inspired one man band with a cool hat – the whole experience would have been like the best fringe festival ever if not for the smoking.
The party then moved next door into the Lovelite itself where three different DJ’s and the hip hop band “Long Lost Relative” kept us dancing until we once again succumbed to smoke inhalation about 3am.

Of Shoes and Showrooms

The shoes are marvellous, the girls and I spent a whole day in Hackeschen market looking in all the upscale shops for the perfect pair. All the good ones are of course Italian and about 300 euros per sq. inch. Holding out for German made shoes we did find an amazing boutique, but with no prices on anything – this seemed to insinuate a cost of 600 euros per boot. We were scared to start trying them on, as that’s a definite commitment kind of like getting dinner bought for you. They were ultra stylish “get to know me boots” so we browsed the catalogue over lunch and discovered the prices were only moderately high and may warrant a return trip. The ultimate shoe has so far eluded me – but worry not, they shall be found.
Speaking of shoes, we went yesterday to look at sexy skirts at this boutique that we have walked by a few times – but until today had not been allowed to dally in until our art quotas had been completed. It turns out the shop is run by twelve women who all make and design their own lines. Several seem to use old clothes as the bases. One designer “Stoffrausch” shone above the rest, and both Lilla and I tried on her gorgeous $129 euro jackets and myself this ultra cool 70 euro skirt – that has a two way zipper down the front and fit me perfectly, only to find out it was a cash only arrangement. Not having the hundred or so euros cash handy that would have been required, we bought socks. To quell our disappointment and after receiving a lecture from Lila “that I would have bought more if you took credit cards” the staff sent us on our way down the street with a catalogue to see the showroom. This proved tricky to find, but we finally finagled our way into what looked like an apartment. We walked up three flights of dark winding steps to what looked like someone’s front door. We knocked and Stoffrausch herself let us in. Turns out this was not a showroom but her tiny work space and you could barely walk in amongst all the boxes of fabric and clothes. We climbed over into her back room where she showed us her latest designs. In bungled German and English we admired her work, turns out she makes by hand, only three of each item i.e. only one in each size of SML. We were very impressed by this concept. She was very nice and asked us to email her some stores in North America who may want to represent her label.
So as the new North American rep for Stroffrausch, I should really own at least one little skirt, don’t you think?

In the Atelier

The real reason we came to Berlin was of course to make art. Here your studio is called an “atelier”. Really now this is a much cooler a word than just plain studio. For a mere month we can all pretend to be ultra chic and say “Please drop by the atelier in Freidrichshain to see my work.”
Within the same few blocks of us are a jewellery studio, an erotic photography studio, a print shop, a bronze and wood sculpture foundry, several painters, and a lot of fashion designers. As Wayne in Wayne’s world said so aptly “We are not worthy”
But despite our Canadian humbleness we have been very productive, it’s amazing how motivating a deadline can be. Only one week and counting to the show.
Sharing the atelier has been going quite well, Lilla has been dubbed the “messiest artist”, Harvey the “loudest” (due to his need to bang copper with hammers) – Dion is of course the bossiest and re-arranges all the art at least twice a day. Myself I am apparently the fastest…I would say something different.
We scoured the flea markets, streets, garbage and thrift shops for supplies. Certain things have remained elusive - a hardware store for example despite repeated instructions as to the whereabouts took all of us at least five days to find. Good glue has been our holy grail to find – but our perseverance finally paid off with the discovery of “power-klaber” which was an astonishingly high $5 euros – about $7.80 Canadian for a teeny tube of glue – but it works. We are all worshiping the “power klaber”
We have decided to price the art according to how much we paid for the supplies. Some pieces will be as low as $1.60 euros, others that require a lot of power klaber and clever negotiation at the flea market may be up to $15 euros.
With one week to go we have over twenty pieces made and are hoping to be a little bit worthy when the time comes...

P. S. Check out all the work we have done so far on Dion's Home Page at http://www.dionleroux.com

Eating in Berlin

The menus are daunting, long and filled with ominous sounding carnivorous words, livercalffootwurst, grosserstuffe, heindichstien. They start with drinks of course, without exception the beir is good and is consistently served in magnificent tall steins and always with a matching logo on the glass. The coffee is fantastic, dark and rich, Starbucks take note, all kaffe here is served with a delightful miniature cookie (kucken) on the side or if iced kaffe, right on the top. All other non alcoholic beverages are suspect, they have banana milk, sour cherry vitamin drink, kiwi pumpkin juice etc. Snapple has not caught on here. Fortunately on the rare occasions that you are not in the mood for coffee or bier, the vasser (water) which comes still or with gas, is also good.
Another feature that all restaurants should adopt is the offering of “klien” or ‘gross” for almost all menu items, which mean small or grossly large I’m assuming, as the “klien” size has always been sufficient for two.
Dieters take note, Atkins has never been heard of in Germany, where bread and potatoes rule. Bread (brot) comes with everything and has been served to us in a huge variety of ways, whole loaves, small buns, covered with tomato sauce, with a side of garlic mayo, or filled with eggs. Yes, you often get a surprise egg with your order, usually hard boiled. Lucky for us we like eggs, although not quite so often as they are arriving.
At the end of your meal it is always difficult to get your bill, the word for bill is “rechtlung” which sounds a lot like rectum when you try to say it with your English speaking accent. This may explain why it is hard to get your bill, but I think it is customary that they don’t want to insult you by bringing you the bill, as that would mean the party is over.

Alias

Learning to swear

Berlin puts to shame all other places in terms of nightlife. First of all nightlife here it is meant in the truest sense, as most events literally go ALL night – this is a bit hard for us wussy North Americans who were born without a “party all night gene”.
This weekend we have attended an art opening, seen a Chilean performance artist, two bands, a fashion show, a drag show, and then topped off the night by partying in underground nightclubs with American hip hop artists and their dog. We also met several of the local street artists, who are now all my new heroes. We saw the mother lode studio, the lair of the street art punks, in the back of an old garage. The entire studio was a piece of art.
Last night we were invited to a building party in the courtyard of a former squat that is now a legal intentional community run by women which was complete with a light show, fire juggler and foosball tournament. I was visually over stimulated and left early at 3 am.
The highlight of the evening was being taught to “dis” someone in German
“glukscheisse” and "hackfresser" which mean smartshit and meatface.

Riots not Diets

Berlin is a counselled marriage of punk and bicycles, art and squatters, dogs and graffiti, east and west, fashion and chaos, new and getting older. Best of all is the street art. So far I have taken over 100 pictures in less than 24 hours and almost all have been of the street art.
Street art variations that have been witnessed so far include spray paint, tagging, posters, stencils, murals and building art. Some are awful, some are inspiring, but all combined it is the sheer magnitude of the communal project that most impresses me.
Some of my favourite illustrated text ones so far
“Riots not Diets”
“He’s just a toy but I motivate him”
“Don’t smoke daddy’s dope”
We have been given permission by Pablo to re-paint the window shutters on the outside front of our studio. This side project will let us contribute a mere drop to the bucket of painted rage and humour that envelopes the streets here.

We arrive in Berlin

Ah yes nothing like travelling for 20 hours to arrive at your final destination and discover your luggage is missing. Two of our three bags made it, the one that did not is of course the bag with all the art supplies, the speakers, the adapters for the computer, and the one with D’s shoes. We suspect it was apprehended as contraband.
We are directed to the Lufthansa lost baggage department. Which proves difficult to find, we ask for directions at least four times, each time we are told the same thing, “ez behind ze information desk”. At last an information desk is spotted and sure enough down two hallways, past a hair salon – there is the “lost and found” you have to find! After many questions and computer work by Frau Shwartz we are assured that the bag has been located! It seems they left it in London. They will deliver it – but will call first. This could take a few days or arrive later today.
We give Frau Shwartz the telephone number of the gallery and leave with the notion that we will never see our bag again.

Across the Atlantic

What can you say about 18 hours spent travelling across the Atlantic through three countries and four airports that hasn’t already been said. There was chicken or beef, uncomfortable seats, crying babies and two movies. There was marmalade and tweed for sale in London, not a spec of garbage and a dashund travelling as a carry on in Munich, and our bag was lost in Berlin.
Incidentally, both movies stared William Shatner.
I think the international communities should get together and make a treaty whereby the first human cloning project would be to make many more William Shatners. His sublime acting combined with his bi-curious sex appeal make him the human of the future. He even already has a cool font named after him.
By the way I would recommend you only see “Miss Congeniality Two – Armed and Fabulous” on the big screen. The impact of the dialogue nuances and plot twists were surely lost on the airline size screen, and Will Shatner, my vote for the world first human clone has at least two lines.