Adventures in Europe 2 - Berlin

Part II of III of my inter-railing adventure with my Dad.

Entering Berlin with a spring in my step I quickly found our hotel the wonderfully welcoming Industrie Palast right near Westkreuz Station. Housed in a recently converted warehouse the Palace is vibrant and high-tec, serving both hostel and hotel budgets and featuring lots of high ceilings. I dropped my stuff and headed off on adventure. 

I saw the East Side Gallery which uttered yet more truth and made me think of Marika Rose’s theory of Joy, ‘In the beginning there was freedom’, noted the shrapnel damage on the Berlin Library (and thought of Gabe Moshenska), rode the U6 and marvelled at how the Berliners could convince the playmobil to fix their trains, ate my first Currywurst in Charlottesburg and wrote some postcards with my back to the Berlin Wall, watching the setting sun. 

It was a good day and a great introduction to the Garden City.

(Berlin Underground Playmobil Pixies! & Berlin from the Oberbaum Bridge)

 Waiting for my now half deaf dear little daddy to return, on the other hand, was a bit nerve-wracking and I was glad for such distractions. Shortly after 11, having made passing references to Waiting for Godot to my sister and having just ordered a latte, dear little Daddy arrived.

After an in-house breakfast Dad and I hit Berlin in the blazing sunshine. We walked the round about way to Checkpoint Charlie having checked out some little harbours on the way. And once again ruminated on how Dad’s current affairs is my history lesson. After a little snack we walked past the site of Hitler’s bunker, passed the British Embassy, and along Unter den Linden, laughing at all the little boys having their photos taken near posh cars, by the same token dodging the Turkish ladies ‘raising money for the disabled’.

We stopped for lunch at the Hackescher Markt, where I sat in a funky 70’s hanging seat and ate my second currywurst of the trip, and persuaded Dad to do the ‘Berlin Beer Bear’ pose for a photo. We were surrounded by all kinds of artisan goods are available for the right price, which was slightly out our price range. 

After the market we headed back to Untern to eat icecream and then do the Reichstag Tour. The Reichstag Tour was recommended to me and is genuinely one of the best things in Berlin. You do have to book in advance, but its free to book online, and you will be subjected to an airline style security check. Once inside and carefully herded in your group of 20 you climb the height of the Reichstag in a futuristic silent lift. Armed with your in-ear headpiece you are then free to climb the elegantly designed Reichstag Dome. The audio-guide keeps movement round the dome regulated, the information was relevant and detailed to just the right level. Joan would be chuffed at all the ways they tried to make it eco-friendly and it offers great views of Berlin on a sunny day like ours was. Although you cannot escape history in Berlin, the Reichstag Tour celebrated significance in a way that was really thoughtful. Also its free!

(Reichstag Tour - note cloudless sky, awesome walkways, German flag)

After the tour I wanted to visit the Holocaust Memorial because I learned lots about it last year on my MA and was interested to see the way people interacted with the space. From what I saw I imagine the purists would be angry along similar lines to Diana’s park. I visited the Holocaust Museum at the park anxious to find out more about the history of the memorial.

 I didn’t find out anything. 

But the exhibition is very moving; as with everything in Berlin its on a mammoth scale, and makes the most of multiple media to make its point. I really didn’t like the dark reflective rooms. But they have done well to create room for reflection and also for people to come together for positive change.

(Brandenburg Gate on a summer's evening)

On Sunday we discovered more of Berlin, we had a go at Museum-Island, but having booked little in advance the queues just seemed too long. Appreciative of the pretty architecture instead we plumped for Berlin Dom. Being built in the early 20^th century might put people off visiting the Dom but having an interest in German Cathedrals (from last year) it seemed like an obvious choice. There was an audio visual guide which seemed to be a programme built on Nintendo handsets – an interesting choice when I was thinking about PR at Aachen Cathedral. Dad discovered the iPad whilst seeing people taking photos on them. I remembered what it was I liked about both Luther and Christians. And we had yet another opportunity to get up high on the Cathedral Tour. This time there was nothing between us and the sky on yet another glorious Berlin summer day. I enjoyed seeing all the green spaces but my feet hurt and it was really hot so we quickly made for the cafe at the bottom, complete with ‘Heaven Cake’ which was heavenly!

Tune in on Wednesday for Part 3 - Hamburg then home!

'Time Passes' part II

And so I find myself yet again apologising for the tardiness of this blog. I have a great excuse though! I’ve been doing lots of other writing and thinking this week and even designing this cute little venn diagram! But I haven’t forgotten to think about time.

Flying high

Last weekend I had the pleasure of going on a flight in a little aeroplane big enough for just four including the pilot. We flew a round trip to the south coast; right over the cliffs of Dover, Canterbury Cathedral and Dover Castle. Flying over our little town, the Thames Estuary and all of Kent, in a matter of minutes, provided me with quite a different perspective on life. It got me thinking about how reliant we are on our pyschogeography in our everyday life.

Canterbury Cathedral from the plane.

I took my digital camera on the flight and even ten years ago my photographs of England from the air would have impressed people. It is not every day you get to see England so well from above! But with the rise of digital technologies anyone can look on google maps at what England looks like from the air. So although for me this photograph of Canterbury will forever be special; to the rest of you time and technology has probably robbed you of its specialness. So, instead of trying to capture once in a lifetime shots of the county from above, I took other ‘arty’ photos expressing something a little more abstract.

Sunset over the river

One Bright Spot
The Kursaal of Southend on Sea is the subject of my dissertation. It used to be called ‘One Bright Spot’ although it had lots of illuminations it was also a beacon of fun for the working classes with a large amusement park. There were loads of rides and side shows to experience and people from Essex and London would take a day-trip to the seaside. Many of the people I’ve interviewed for my work have spoken about the attachment they have to the 'bright spot', romantic nights at the ballroom or the Tunnel of Love. This got me thinking about how the ‘Kursaal’ space has changed function over time; from field to trotting park, amusement park to housing estate. Although with the passing years people no longer dance at the ballroom (it was demolished and sold, much to the chagrin of Southend’s over 70s); it is still an important place to the local community because of what it represents.

There have been other elements of Southend culture that time has been unable to steal. People still visit Southend for the amusement park, its just on the other side of the road; and the 1930’s arcades have been replaced by illuminated ‘grabber’ games. East Londoners might do different things in Southend, but the majority of our visitors are still East Londoners down for a day at the seaside. All is not lost; ice cream and spades still sell!

Not much changed over 60 years - seaside amusements.

‘I’m fine! I’m fine!’
Was what I said when I came round from a faint at a BBQ recently. After that I was rushed to A & E and spent the evening lying on a bed in the department, I'm fine by the way. I was helpfully positioned in front of the staff desk so I could watch all the comings and goings. Hospital departments can be quite interesting to watch when you aren’t on death’s door or worrying about someone. When I first came round in the house I moved from one room to a stairwell, through another room and I actually don’t remember it. My brain has failed to store that memory. Although in the main I’m not bothered ; a part of me wonders where those few minutes went, who stole my time and what they did with it (and me!) in the meantime?

I predict a riot!
I couldn’t write a blog post this week without passing comment on the recent riots this week. I’ve enjoyed reading the vast amount of e-comment on the subject and the growing number of acceptable reactions. When I first heard about the riots it reminded me of the work I did on the Miners’ Strike of the 1980’s; of the multi-vocality of the time and what happens when you put cuts on public spending. When I did my research on the Miner’s Strike I had the benefit of hindsight to see the build-up, the strikes and the aftermath, including the effect ten years on. I’ll have still made a partisan judgement but it will at least be a little detached. What is so interesting about the riot reportage today is the immediacy of the comment; academics are able to publish journal length articles online within hours of incidents taking place. I will watch with interest to see what the generation twenty years behind me makes of all this when they consider it all with ‘academic detachment’.

p.s. I hope you noticed my reference to Under Milk Wood in the title, I'm going on holiday a bit over the next few weeks so expect my blogging to be even more sporadic! And I'll be back soon to talk about digital tech, its pros and cons for life and the universe!

'Time Passes. Listen. Time passes' - part I

This week I’ve been thinking about the passage of time, a small subject for discussion(!). And a little ironic given how late this post is this week.

Baby Love: House Clearance as Heritage
I have been clearing my great uncle’s house with some relatives. He was born in 1920 and lived in a world where sealing wax, the Britannica Encyclopaedia and a record player were everyday items in life. This 1950s kitchen cabinet with inbuilt pastry board represented a thoroughly efficient and necessary part of the kitchen.  Even just a few photographs show how life has moved on since he was my age!

Text from a really old first aid handbook!

The house-clearers represented three generations of family with three different perspectives on what we were doing.  For the oldest generation the objects we were sorting did not represent anything exotic or unfamiliar; they were quite everyday and not worth keeping. For the middle generation also, objects were not valuable due to their aesthetic or tangible worth. The objects the middle generation chose to keep were based on intangible, emotional connections bundled up in the physical object - the record he used to play as they danced around the front room (Baby Love), the tea towels from exotic holidays, the hat he always wore. For this generation salvage was communing with (the memories of) their uncle; as was the upkeep of his garden, one of his favourite pastimes.

For the younger generation, at one more remove from 1920, many of the objects seemed exotic by way of their unfamiliarity. The stamp album with the old fashioned spellings and all sorts of kitchen implements which looked almost alien they were so unfamiliar. The distance from the emotional connection for this generation also made room for experimentation. I took the china collection for a friend’s wedding where the cups became one off candle-holders; several other kitchen items went to form the staple objects in my cousin’s new home. The writing desk joined my collection of wooden furniture in my room and now happily holds, amongst other things, a laptop. For this younger generation objects from the house were not viewed as objects for veneration but candidates for reinvention, of use in the future world.

One of the objects that had us all intrigued was my uncle’s wartime diaries. The subject of what he did in the war was always kept hidden; deemed too painful to be on public display and discussed in public. But it transpired that throughout his very busy period of active service he kept diaries; detailing every film he saw, the towns he visited and the situations he found himself in. Some of the entries were funny; ‘Italian dies from drinking antifreeze’, ‘won a cow, milked it’ and others were profound in their simplicity, ‘Our Wedding Day’. The detail provided enough information to trace his steps across Europe and beyond. Something felt a little bit transgressive in reading that which was always deliberately kept hidden; it is morally ambiguous to read the diary of a dead man; akin to clearing out his underwear draw! I still wonder whether it would it have been more honouring to burn them on sight?

I’m not sure, but they made some jolly good yarns and explained why he’d kept a copy of ‘Algiers to Austria’ on his bookshelf.

Wedding Day, 1945

All of this reminded me of some of the things we’ve been thinking about on the course for my MA. Lowenthal’s attitudes towards the obligations and behaviours of family and legacies; Pearce’s On Collecting; the many philosophical musings on the necessity of treasuring the past for our present mental health. Does collecting/ curating /saving things from the past inhibit our moving on in the future? And how do we keep our memories of our own pasts without the objects? What happens when we run out of space in the (family) archive? What filters can we put on that collecting process? I don’t have that many answers...yet!

In part II I will discuss the impact of time on what is impressive digitally, our own aging and some more insights into my current work. For now, have lovely weekends everybody!