Urban Sketcher

Posted on Dec 6, 2012 in Berlin | 0 comments

I had plenty of time to sketch during my 4 hour ride on the ICE Berlin-Cologne.

Sketched on the iPad with the Paper app, trying to capture not so much what I saw out of the window at 220 km/h, but an impression of a drifting landscape. The speed of the world moving outside is also a great metaphor for time passing, which it does for everyone, faster and faster, as you grow older.

I had promised my old best friend from grade 5 who lives outside the Cologne area, a separate 3-day visit before my stay with relatives at Christmas, which will make it a bit more difficult to see her. I left Berlin on Sunday, December 2 and returned on Wednesday, December 5. I had booked my 4-hour ICE Berlin-Cologne return trip when I was still back home in Vancouver. I also reserved my seat for peace of mind.

Train travel in Europe is always romantic to me, possibly because I get to travel that way so infrequently. I am sure the regular commuters look at it from a more practical angle. But even in B.C., I love riding the ferry to Vancouver Island, every time. Aren’t all of us artists hopeless romantics? If we did not believe in the intangible, we would never make art. Or, as I like to say, “Function is overrated.”

So I was thrilled to be on the ICE Berlin-Cologne for four hours, even though I had to get up at 5 a.m. and catch a U-Bahn to the Berlin Hauptbahnhof (main train station) at 6 a.m.

Painted on iPad with ProCreate app. This was done on the return trip Cologne-Berlin, in the on-board restaurant where I had a sausage + bun meal and a coffee. I have great memories of a wonderful breakfast in the on-board restaurant of a train through the Austrian Alps with Jeff: fresh buns with butter and jam, a great cup of coffee, your favourite person across from you, while that amazing world out there zips by.

At that early hour on a Sunday morning, I have never seen so many bedraggled, unsteady-on-their-feet 20-year-olds on the subway platforms. I just had to smile when I saw all those kids so worn out from a night of partying in Berlin, swaying slightly to and fro as they tried to hit the right buttons on their smartphones to text woozy post-mortems of the night to their friends.

I questioned myself whether I felt wistful that I am past the age of all-night clubbing, even though it’s something I only rarely did, and would not even be interested in doing now. But I have to admit I would like to feel that I have the option to do it. While I know that I have the energy to party all night, I don’t think my age group would be welcomed enthusiastically. As my cousin told me, a friend of his who tried to go clubbing overheard “Are they coming here to die now?”

I was not in much better shape than those 20-year-olds though, for an entirely different reason; I had been up working again until almost 2 a.m. to tie up some loose ends my clients asked for when they got to work back home in Vancouver, and I had a hard time falling asleep, so I barely racked up two hours of sleep myself. Oh yeah, I also like to say “Sleep is overrated.”

I had a meaningful, but also somewhat sad time with my friends and relatives. There are some age-related issues in the older generation in my family. I had to visit my favourite aunt not at home, but in the hospital. The images I drew and painted of the world I saw from the train, moving by at ever greater speed, took on a new meaning.

My ICE Berlin-Cologne arriving at the Berlin Hauptbahnhof at 6:49 a.m. on Sunday morning, December 2, 2012. These trains are amazing machines with airplane-like conductor cockpits and top speeds over 300 km/h. I get a thrill when I see one entering the station, especially when I am about to get on it with my chocolate croissant and my morning coffee to go visit a good friend.

Photographed from the regional train I had to take during the last half hour of my trip to get from Wuppertal to Remscheid. Typical, blurry, on-the-train photo. As I was approaching Remscheid, the snow cover got heavier.

From the regional train Wuppertal-Remscheid. It had snowed a healthy amount the night before, but only in this hilly region where my friend lives with its slightly higher elevation.

My best friend from grade 5 in Germany, B. (right) and I (left). We have a special friendship that has lasted for many years. It helps that B. is probably the nicest person on the planet. Blurry photo, but blame it on the young photographer.

The landscape near Wermelskirchen, where my friend lives with her husband and three kids. It is called “Bergisches Land” which means “mountainous countryside”. All that snow from the previous photo had melted within a day after I got there.

On the ICE back to Berlin. Or I may have still been on that brief regional train ride at that point.

Germany from the train.

Posted on Dec 1, 2012 in Berlin | 0 comments

I continued working on Saturday, December 1. I had to, because I am planning to travel 500 km away from Berlin to the Cologne area from December 2 – 5 to visit friends and relatives, and I am not bringing any work along! I was finally done around 3:30 pm, so just as it was getting dark, I went for a walk to the nearby “Mauerpark”, a former East-West border area here in Berlin, where a section of the Berlin Wall still stands.

A weekly flea market livens up the somewhat dreary linear-shaped Mauerpark, and the debate about how to develop and use the park, has been lively as well. It appears that a compromise between recreational use and housing developments in the park has been made very recently. This may mean that nobody is very happy with the results, and the process may continue to drag out. As I discussed with the Vancouver artist, author and illustrator Robert Chaplin recently (I am a big fan of his work, by the way), you just get more done in a benevolent dictatorship because all that democratic consensus-building shit slows everything down.

I have inserted a slide show here, of a search for “Mauerpark” on Flickr — none of the photos above are mine, of course.

I had brought my good camera, so afterwards I continued my walk into the Berlin evening, taking photos of street scenes and later meeting my new artist friend Nina for a coffee and a gallery opening.

In the Mauerpark in Berlin.

A tiny birch forest in the Berlin Mauerpark is a welcome relief from the urban environment.

Concession stand under the U-Bahn on Schönhauser Allee, Berlin.

Under the U-Bahn on Schönhauser Allee, Berlin. The U-Bahn is elevated here, just like the “L” in Chicago, and the stations and supports have been painstakingly restored in recent years. The green-painted metal with its large rivets looks great — and it is functional. Is it just me who thinks this is one of the most interesting sights in the city?

Berlin street food bistro. There is no shortage of inexpensive street food in Berlin, and even now in the chill of winter, people are having a quick bite outside before getting back to errands or partying.

The elevated U-Bahn track along Schönhauser Allee, Berlin.

Signage at a hairdresser, Berlin.

Konopke’s Imbiß, Berlin. Another food kiosk under the U-Bahn track — this one is 80 years old, serves good sausages, and has survived a World War and being on the East Berlin side, a socialist regime.

Christmas decor through a veil of plastic wrap, Berlin. Taken through a store window.

I am debating whether I should buy a small Christmas wreath for my place. But that might take valuable table top space away from my sketchbooks… Must consider priorities in life, always.

Lucia Christmas market, Berlin. Eventually I found myself back at the Christmas market in my neighbourhood and decided to grab a quick dinner before my evening with Nina.

I had dinner at the Lucia Christmas market, Berlin. I ordered these potato cakes (Kartoffelpuffer) and they came with pickled salmon, pickled herring, caviar, and a sour cream sauce, for € 7.

Another € 3 bought me this ceramic boot of Glühwein (mulled wine) which was strong and tasty. They charge an additional € 1 as a deposit, in case you don’t bring the little boot back. I debated whether I should keep it, but decided that I have little use for ceramic cups in the shape of a Santa Claus boot, and that it was best to just take a photo.

Saturday night at the Eberswalder Strasse U-Bahn station. It was only 6:00 pm at this point, the night was young. Night clubs in Berlin don’t open until around midnight, and there is no closing time in Berlin, so partying can go on all night, and then you go out for a hangover breakfast.

After I met Nina, she showed me these cool shops under the U-Bahn in a different area of Berlin. The neon lighting in this bookstore (Bücherbogen, apparently a great store for art and design books, on Savignyplatz) nicely emphasises the domed ceilings that are found under the U-Bahn track.

Heading out on the town, Saturday night in Berlin. This woman has compiled much variety in her outfit, but the sparkly tights really hold it together.

At a gallery opening with Nina. The vernissage was held at a gallery called Kunstraum Fröauf and the show was titled “Fuffzehn” which is Berlin dialect for “Fünfzehn” which means “fifteen”, because it showcased 15 artists with an emphasis on a photographic approach to art or incorporating photographic elements. Nina introduced me to a couple of artists, everyone was very friendly and relaxed. I found out that one of the artists was the daughter of a wealthy collector of art nouveau, who has recently sold his complete museum, the Bröhan Museum, to a collector in China, where a brand new museum will be built for his collection in the city of Hangzhou. It is a strange new world. I will have to visit this museum before it moves to China.

Posted on Nov 30, 2012 in Berlin | 2 comments

One of my smaller design projects this week, an illustration and design for a book cover.

I was a bit chained to my virtual office this week, a large project approached crucial deadlines, other work had to be done as well, it was crunchtime. So I worked long days and nights, and much sleep was postponed.

But I managed to slip out for a 2nd-tier Bundesliga soccer game on Thursday evening. It was Hertha Berlin against my native town of Cologne. The game was hyped on the radio as a fun one with an old rivalry between the opponents.

The funniest thing was probably when a couple of guys from Cologne behind me in the food lineup at halftime debated whether they should stoop to ordering a “Boulette” (the Berlin word for “meatball”) when clearly the correct word should be “Frikadelle” (the Cologne word for the same).

Berlin soccer fan products are being sold as you’re getting off the subway.

The Berlin Olympic stadium. It’s an impressive building, even though it is infamous for the 1936 Olympics.

That’s the ticket! I had only ever attended one Bundesliga game, back when I lived in Germany as a child. So this was my second one. And the lineup was perfect for me: Berlin, my temporary home against my home town of Cologne.

The game ended in a 1:1 tie. That was not a bad result for Cologne. I recorded the singing of the Cologne fans on the S-train home.

I came for the game, …

… but I stayed for the fans. This is the Hertha Berlin curve.

This is the 1. FC Köln fan curve, a bit thinner than the home team. The noise from both sides was deafening at times.

Posted on Nov 28, 2012 in Berlin | 0 comments

This book cover I designed a day after visiting Nina’s studio, looks to me as though it was inspired by Nina’s work.

I visited the behind-glass artist Nina Neumaier in her studio yesterday. It was a short visit because I had to be back home to man my desk by Canadian business hours which start around 5 pm here in Berlin (= 8 am in Vancouver). So my days are best spent sightseeing and my evenings, when it’s dark and cold out anyway, are best spent working.

Nina specializes in painting behind glass, an old but unusual technique these days. The painting has to be created from the front to the back, which is completely the opposite sequence from a traditional painting. So the highlights are applied first, and she works her way to the back in 30 or more layers that are all carefully composed as she works. She showed me some of her beautiful paintings and gave me some tips on how to paint on plexiglass or glass with acrylics. She recommended a product line by the Swiss company Lascaux for its varnishes.

She also gave me a bit more insight into the struggles of living an artist’s life, which made me realize how difficult it is. She takes commissions for decorative work on occasion, because she, as many artists, can not live on art alone — yet she has been pursuing art for many years, and over the last 15 years or so, has increasingly perfected her technique of painting on plexiglass.

She is still on the board of the Frauen Museum Berlin (Berlin Women’s Museum), and even was in charge of programming for the museum for 4 years to establish it as a virtual museum with various galleries as guest hosts of shows, and a high level of work. She mentors young artists and has helped several to get “discovered”.

We got along well, I gave her advice on the design of her next exhibition catalogue, and we are going to meet again soon for more gallery openings, concerts, and outings so she can show me her side of Berlin.

Nina’s studio is in this building.

Many Berlin residential buildings, as is common in many old European cities, have these courtyards, sometimes two or three of them in succession which provide air and a bit of green space to the inhabitants.

On an unrelated note: It’s a good thing I know German, otherwise I would not have known how to ask for a dish rack at the store. I wanted to replace the dish rack here in my rental apartment. When I arrived, I found it coated in mineral deposits, and then it turned rusty when I soaked it in a vinegar/water solution overnight. “Geschirrabtropfkorb” while it is one of those wonderful footlong German words, is not one that comes up often in conversation. Why be short when you can be long and precise and call it a “basket for dishes to drip into”.

Posted on Nov 27, 2012 in Berlin | 1 comment

Sketches of animals at the Berlin Zoo.

On Monday, Nov. 26 I met Katrin and two other illustrator colleagues of hers, Anja and Christian, at the Berlin Zoo.

Before I got there, I had already been on the Berlin public transit for 2.5 hours since I had to drop off a package at FedEx, and there is only ONE FedEx drop off location in all of Berlin, which was of course on the other end of Berlin from the zoo. I could have called it in for pickup, but I didn’t want to be stuck at home.

In the U-Bahn in Berlin — a long ride home from the zoo gave me time to sketch, but I got so wrapped up in drawing that I missed my stop and had to ride back on another train. But getting a sketch done was worth it.

Berlin has an amazing old zoo. I grew up in Cologne, right next door to the Cologne Zoo, and my mother took me to the zoo sometimes daily in the warmer months, when I was small child. She must have had an annual pass. So seeing the old buildings that were designed in a style reflecting the animals’ region of origin, reminded me of the magic and mystery of seeing these exotic creatures. But they all look quite sad, especially the great apes, as Katrin pointed out. I found it very difficult to draw them because obviously most of these animals move around, but it was a fun exercise for me. Katrin did a fantastic drawing of the “Giraffenhaus“.

Sunrise on Berlin apartment buildings.

A big hippo at the Berlin Zoo. But even more amazing are the hippo-sized ducks in the foreground.

There was some noisy construction going on nearby and that may be why the elephants got very excited. One of them, who seemed to be their leader, trumpeted loudly and stomped about, gathering the other three adults to form a circle around the one baby elephant.

The “Giraffenhaus” at the Berlin Zoo. A beautiful turn-of-the-century building which captures that era’s romanticism about exotic places. In my childhood’s imagination, both giraffes and elephants were from Ali Baba’s magical world. Katrin did a great drawing of this building here.

I came upon this strange scene: the gorilla seemed to pose for the humans. But I am sure he was quite indifferent.

Posted on Nov 26, 2012 in Berlin | 0 comments

I managed to squeeze in an hour of sketching in a Berlin residential neighbourhood between attending the gallery opening and walking to the Ku’damm where the play was.

And this is the building that is in the sketch.

Sunday, November 25 was another busy day in Berlin. They’re all busy here, but it’s fun. The apartment clean-up that I am planning to do, has had to wait.

Today I met Nina Neumaier, a Berlin artist who paints behind glass and plexiglass. I had googled “plexi-glass artist” or something like that, when I was trying to paint on plexiglass and was finding it harder than I expected (see my attempts below). I found Nina online and contacted her with some technical issues I had. She replied very quickly and was very friendly — I felt honoured that such an established artist was willing to tell me anything. We kept in touch and when I mentioned that I was planning to come to Berlin, she said I should contact her when the times comes and we’d meet.

Our first meeting was on Sunday at the Kommunale Galerie Berlin, which was hosting a gallery opening for the virtual Frauenmuseum Berlin (Museum for Women Berlin). Both artists sharing the opening had well-thought out, challenging, potentially disturbing work displayed; Katharina Moessinger’s over-sized stuffed animals with real fur, and Elisabeth Matthewes’ videos of a human body displacing or disturbing food or liquid. I found both women’s work worthwhile spending time with and of an artistic integrity that is hard for me to put into words.

Katharina Moessinger and Elisabeth Matthewes gallery opening by the virtual Frauen Museum Berlin, hosted at the Kommunale Galerie Berlin.

In the theater on the Kurfürstendamm, Berlin. I love live theatre. I booked a play here that sounded interesting and funny “Der Eiserne Gustav”, about an old carriage driver in the 1920s who is being usurped by the way, inflation, his children’s rebellion, his son’s death in the WWI, and the automobile’s gaining popularity. At first I wasn’t too impressed, but soon the play grew on me. It had a good dose of social realism and was not portraying anything in a romantic light. The end of an era, generational clashes, and the inability of the “Iron Gustav” to soften.

Christmas window display, Berlin. Christmas sure draws out the sentimental kitsch. This holiday seems to be one big excuse to keep digging up a utopian fantasy of holiday cheer and cosy nights around the fire and red noses and sleigh rides and walks in the snow. Sometimes it does feel like that at Christmastime, but of course the commercial approach is to drip with clichees.

Kuckucksuhren (cuckoo clocks). Berlin is not exactly in the Black Forest, but this is still Germany after all.

Posted on Nov 26, 2012 in Berlin | 1 comment

Lucia Christmas market in my Berlin neighbourhood of Prenzlauer Berg, one of about 50 such markets that just opened in Berlin this week and will continue until just after Christmas. As far as I can tell, it’s both a place to go with kids, as well as a chance to swill some Glühwein after work for the adults.

It’s a good thing I speak perfect German. I can listen to the radio and stay abreast of any Berlin Christmas market perils ;-).

I am getting concerned about my level of alcohol consumption here in Berlin. I am not nearly drinking enough. I’ve only made it through one-and-a-half bottles of wine since I arrived here two weeks ago. With booze being about 1/3 to 1/2 of Canadian prices, my original plan was to drink so much in my three months here that the savings would amount to a full year of alcohol costs back home in Canada.

This situation may be remedied a bit by the opening of Berlin’s 50 Weihnachtsmärkte (Christmas markets). I walked through my first one and the ratio of bars serving Christmas punch or Absinthe or beer or Glühwein or Grögg to other establishments is quite high. It looks like a 50/50 split of alcohol-to-knick-knack-booths from my small sample. However, as the title of this blog post tells you, the police in Berlin are warning people to not let strangers buy them a drink. Apparently there are roofied shots being handed out at the Weihnachtsmärkte as well as in bars.

This Lucia Christmas market even has an art-nouveau style Absinthe bar. I don’t know that Vancouver has absinthe at all. Well, they do, but it’s not common.

It’s not all about the booze, there are also carousels for kids and trampolines with top ropes and wooden toys and potato cakes.

Jünemann’s Pantoffeleck, Berlin. A 100-year old slipper factory that has survived 2 devastating world wars and a two-generation socialist regime. I needed a pair of slippers for my cold feet, and these simple, hand-made-in-the-back-room €12 slippers fit the bill.

Jünemann’s Pantoffeleck, Berlin. This is the tiny, below ground level sales room where the slippers (they only have two kinds) are stacked up in shelves that look like they’re from the 1930s.

My new locally made slippers from Jünemann’s Pantoffeleck. They are so nerdy they are cool. And if they are not, I don’t care. Nice warm camel hair.

“Tropical cocktails” — I was enjoying this cheery promise in the midst of a giant, dreary Berlin building block.

Berlin is full of these kinds of drab buildings, but some are interesting in their own minimalist way.

But Berlin has many sides. There are plenty of grand feudal buildings like this one, restored to former glory.

Then there is the modern Berlin, offering a third option to drab vs. grand.

This is more than just street art, this is a sanctioned building decoration, no doubt. The illustration style appeals to me, not surprisingly.

I had to guess that this is the restaurant name, since it looks like graffiti, but I confirmed that it is. Strangely, “Hartweizen” is an Italian restaurant, and is getting good reviews online. Loving this signage.

Posted on Nov 25, 2012 in Berlin | 0 comments

At the DDR exhibit, German Historical Museum, Berlin. Photography was not allowed, but I had to sneak one in anyway when I saw these collected socialist heads. When I brought this picture into iPhoto, its facial recognition engine asked me for the people’s names, so I entered them: Engels (I think), Lenin, and Marx (back row to front row).

On Saturday I arrived at the Deutsches Historisches Museum (German Historical Museum) shortly after they opened at 10 a.m. I had seen a poster for the DDR exhibit that was ending this weekend, so I expected large crowds and I wanted to beat them. But the DDR exhibit turned out to be only one of several in this vast museum. It was busy but not overrun, and it wasn’t even that big. I think there are just too many choices here in Berlin, while in Vancouver the few exhibits we get tend to be mobbed in their last days when everyone tries to cram it in. The DDR exhibit also included free audio guides featuring interviews with people who had been imprisoned by the Stasi, or recounting their military service experience, or working conditions, or travelling around Eastern Europe with its restrictions.

Afterwards I also visited an exhibit of the DHM’s painting collection. They collect only paintings that are relevant to German historical events, and they did cover the gamut, including a painting of Hitler which was clearly not meant to flatter.

There was also a modern art exhibit on art, “Verführung zur Freiheit” (Seduction to Freedom). The exhibit expresses answers to questions such as “How do we wish to live? By what should we orientate ourselves? What roles should politics, the state and society play, in helping us to live out our lives, as worthy human beings? Does our desire for a socially and ecologically secure future count as a basic human right?”

It’s interesting for me to ponder this role of art. I am aware of its validity, but so far, I have the need to just create images without questioning why I am making them. But the question of why we make art and for what purpose and whether it can be for the greater good, is one that needs to be asked over and over again.

After my 3.5 hour museum visit, I had lunch and a coffee at Oliv Cafe. I’d done my google research and read it was good, and it was. I sat at a large communal table and did a drawing, but only roughed in the people closest to me so I wouldn’t be caught staring at them for too long.

Then I wanted to ride a City Bike to Kurfürstendamm to pick up an opera ticket and a play ticket I had reserved, but the whole bike rental internet system was down. All the bikes were locked up and nobody could use them. So I started walking. I walked for several hours, until I had done my errands and lots of meandering and looking into shop windows and then I took the subway home, had dinner, and crashed. It was only 8 pm but I had been sightseeing for 10 hours.

Fokus DDR — exhibit on East Germany at the German Historical Museum, Berlin

Postcards with old East German signage, top to bottom: No Goods Today (they had a preprinted sign for that?!), Helper of the People’s Police (no doubt this really meant “your friends and family hate you”), Closed Area: Do not walk in, drive in, or take pictures or you will be punished.

Dead warrior masks by Andreas Schlüter in the German Historical Museum, Berlin. A large central roofed courtyard was used to display artillery in the Empire times. The dead warrior heads are above every window surrounding this courtyard. I spent about 45 minutes drawing this one, but the drawing looks too banal compared to the intensity of the sculptures, so I am not posting it here.

Freedom dress in the German Historical Museum, Berlin. A fashion sculpture on the occasion of the museum’s 25th anniversary, designed by Stephan Hann, using posters of past exhibits.

These two views are only separated by a street and a tunnel. I don’t know how well these bars under the tracks are doing, but I like how given the option, Berlin chooses to party. Of course, as an urban sketcher, I prefer the left view.

View into a random apartment building lobby, Berlin

In the metro in Berlin. I am spending a fair amount of time riding the subway here. At least they’re a cheery yellow.

Posted on Nov 24, 2012 in Berlin | 0 comments

I did not have an emergency, I just had to get my signature certified by a consular officer for a legal document that I had to complete and send back home to Vancouver. But I thought I might as well look around to make sure they spend my tax dollars wisely. Of course, I did have to pay €40 per document — apparently my tax dollars do not cover that. I had to go through a metal detector at the entrance, and also had to surrender my cell phone for the duration of my visit. It was locked up and I was given a metal token, just like in a coat check.

The embassy is only open for public business from 9–12 every week day, so I am making a mental note to not have an emergency outside of those hours.

On the 3rd floor, where the consular services are located, the agent was behind thick bulletproof glass. It was a bit hard to hear her. Between the two doormen on the ground floor and the two agents in consular services, I detected zero Canadians — all of these staff appeared to be either German or of another linguistic background.

I did use the very spiffy, clean toilet with Grohe flush apparatus before I left. Since there was no fee for that, I feel I got at least 50 cents of my tax money back.

The lobby of the Canadian embassy in Berlin. They would not allow me to take photos even in the lobby, so I pressed my camera against the glass from the outside. I know I shouldn’t expect much fuzzy love from government agencies, but the downright inhumanity of their “procedures before people” approach is always a bit chilling.

The Canadian embassy in Berlin. It could be worse. It could look like the one in Washington DC which is a claustrophobic fortress.

After my embassy errand, I rented a City Bike and cycled back towards home. I got a bit lost at first and went through the Sony Center Berlin by accident — a large covered plaza with an interesting dome structure, very striking.

Cycling through the Tiergarten Park, Berlin.

Brandenburg Gate from the Tiergarten Park, Berlin

Cycling through the Brandenburg Gate towards the TV Tower.

German Christmas pyramids are a common sight in the shopping landscape at this time of year.

Faculty of Law and Law Library, Berlin. I was convinced this was the opera and tried to pick up a ticket in here. But they pointed me across the plaza. After a while, one neo-classical building looks like the next.

Crossing the Schlossbrücke with view of the Berlin Dom and the TV Tower. It’s the first full sunny day in Berlin since I got here 8 days ago.

Altes Museum, Berlin. It houses the antique collection.

I like to experiment with my hair colour. This woman’s dip dyed hair looks great.

I like all the soviet-style buildings on Alexanderplatz so much more now that they no longer represent an all-powerful, oppressive regime.

Dirndls are for sale even in Berlin, which is far from Bavaria, where dirndls are the traditional dress. But these days many German women own a dirndl, if only to attend the local Octoberfest. I think it is mostly ironic, a bit like a costume, to put one of these on, unless you live in a small Austrian village like many of my cousins do.

A fine example of a socialist-realist sculpture of a proud worker.

Posted on Nov 23, 2012 in Berlin | 2 comments

Morning charcoal drawing.

Being back in Germany sometimes brings up memories from my childhood. Not surprisingly, food tends to be involved, other times words that have changed or disappeared, or memories of stories, sounds, architecture, or pictures.

Of course memory is selective, and inventive. We create our own stories that we can turn into memories. The visuals of the East-German born artist Neo Rauch, for example, remind me of illustrations in old children’s books I used to read. I think my perception of recognition is triggered by this artist’s use of form and colour palette, but the paintings show dream-like scenes from his own imagination, not an idealized childhood.

A new word I learned this week, while listening to the radio, is “Flitzer Blitzer”. I think it means a traffic camera or a policeman taking your picture with a flash (Blitz) as you speed by (flitzen) so they can mail you a ticket.

And again on the radio, it was announced that a WWII bomb from an air raid had to be diffused somewhere in the vicinity of Berlin. 800 people had to leave their homes and wait it out. It took just over half a day; they announced it in the morning and later in the afternoon they gave the all-clear for people to return to their homes. This kind of event is a reminder of a more distant time that I never experienced, while the Soviet-style buildings around Alexanderplatz and other areas of former East Berlin are reminders of events that happened in my lifetime.

Here are other examples of memory-triggers:

These tennis-ball size chocolate-covered marshmallows are entirely artificial, but I loved them as a child. They used to be called “Negerkuss” from “tête de négre” in French. No need to translate, as it’s racist. But when I grew up, that awareness had not entered my brain. They are now called “Schokokuss” (chocolate kiss). It says on this 12-pack that they have 95 calories each. So I could eat the whole dozen and still have calories left in my daily average calorie intake for a sandwich. Of course, if you eat more than two of these a day, it doesn’t feel so good, as I found out yesterday.

The one food you can usually find in Germany in abundance and variety is bread. Bakeries are usually open for a few hours on Sunday mornings so that Germans can get their fresh bread. I have great memories of “Brötchen” (buns) which are called “Schrippen” in Berlin, as I have just learned. I have been waking up early here and going for a walk around the neighbourhood most mornings, and usually there is a bakery along my path.

This glazed or sugar-sprinkled, jelly-filled German donut is called “Berliner” in many parts of Germany, but not in Berlin. Here they call it “Pfannkuchen” (pancake).

Advent calendars are a German tradition. We now see them in Canada in the grocery stores, but there is usually only one kind containing waxy chocolate-flavoured objects. The odd deli has German chocolate calendars. I am finding out that the advent calendar offerings here in Berlin are huge. I stared at a large display of about 20 different chocolate or candy calendars. All the big candy makers have their own calendar. I found this dark chocolate calendar by Lindt this week, and I just had to buy it. It’s twice as big as my laptop.

It wouldn’t be a German Christmas without a “Bier-Adventskalender”. They didn’t have this when I was a kid. I told Jeff about it, and he asked me to buy him one. Seriously? I was hoping he’d help me bring back some new clothes when he arrives with a half empty suitcase. Not this.

And completely unrelated, another typographic find in my neighbourhood: a sign for a hairdresser.