If you’re gonna be a tourist, act like one
My first destination was the Jewish Museum, a monument lost somewhere in the South of Berlin. Apartments that were once squeaky yellow cubes neatly arranged along a boulevard now blended in color with the smoky gravel at their feet. Bleak neighbourhood, I thought, my tourist mind proudly calculating that this must be the authentic, untouristic part of Berlin.
The museum was a surprising, solemn experience. The exhibition begins in the underground, a German expressionist maze organized along jagged shapes straight out of Nosferatu. The actual exhibits are nestled within the dissymetric walls. They are belongings of Jewish families that successfully or not, tried to flee Berlin during the antysemitic exterminations.
Passports of those that successfully exited the country, the number of stamps on them testifies to the onerous process through which this is possible.
On the other side of the underground, there is a grey stone flight of stairs leading up to the first and second floors. They run through 2000 years of Jewish history. Here again, the setting is little reminiscent of traditional exhibition spaces. There are some pictures hanging on the wall, some old fragments of stones in glass cases, but for the most part, these two floors consist of interactive games which project the player into Jewish life at a particular time and place. I indulged in the computer game “Would you be a good court Jew in 1300s Germany?” It was a multiple choice questionnaire. Questions ranged from “Would you lend money to the prince to go to war or stay in your home town and start a business?” to “would you live with the local prince and work at the court or stay at home and open a refuge for poor jewish people?”. After I had answered (rather guessed at) all these questions, the computer came up with the following analysis: You will ruin yourself in the space of a few years. You have had enough sense though to preserve your life.
The following rollers document Jewish people that have Christianized their names out of necessity.
The following, as you may have guessed, are celebrations of Berlin everyday life. The Berlin subway in one word: glorious. It works on a system of trust. You can buy a ticket, or not buy a ticket. No annoying automatic doors or turning metallic bars, just pure space and steps. The inside of the subway trains, German quality in the mold of fake wood.
Next picture: witty illustration of how the new and the old meet and assemble in Berlin.
Every little boys and girl’s dream: a giant “babby foot”(as we would call it in french)
Another document of authentic touristic activity, yes I took the picture of the Dome Church on the island of museums. More interesting though (and I know this makes me sound like a cultural philistine) were the pieces of ice silently gliding along the adjacent canal.
The Berlinale bear, in the modern center of town, you can’t miss it. Towering red bears pop up at every street corner or immerge on every square center. Here we are at the center of the modern center of town: the sony center. A glass roof, a movie theatre, a red bear; what more could you ask for. Other interesting characteristic of the Berlin festival is the logo. Different fragments of the messy calligraphy of Berlinale. The fragment varies with the spot, so behind the bear, the movie theatre has a big ‘le’ over its entrance.
The first time I have ever seen one of these: an automatic cigarette dispenser.
