Berlin

Saturday. Friedrichstrasse. First a few blessed hours spent on a number of storeys of the Kunsthaus and in the evening a play by Christoph Marthaler.

Although I am convinced that the key to German art and culture lies in the study of Expressionism and the various types of Radicalism, at the Kunsthaus paradise, I am seeking what I like. I purchase one of my favourite films: Wim Wenders’s “Wings of Desire,” which is described on the DVD cover as a “poetic masterpiece” and the no less poetic documentary by Anne Linsel and Rainer Hoffmann, “Dancing Dreams,” in which, in the course of rehearsals for a piece by Pina Bausch, unpolished and insecure teenagers with no dance experience are transformed before the viewer’s eyes into wonderfully beautiful young women and men. But, when you see a woman on the streets of Berlin wearing a skirt and tights thinner than 40 denier, she is surely a visitor. All that you need – if you don’t plan to go to a restaurant with white starched tablecloths or to a job interview at the bank – are the indispensable sneakers, jeans and some puffy jacket. Yet, when we speak of poetry, under the influence of the concrete and direct tone of German theatre I become aware than many of the Latvian means of expression (not only in the arts) are too sentimental, nebulously abstract and pseudo-poetic.

The play by Christoph Marthaler in the evening. Faith, Hope and Charity in the Volksbühne. My mind collects questions to ask Tagesspiegel editor Rüdiger Schaper about the German theatrical aesthetic and German historical theatre traditions. Brecht’s “Songs” and estrangement effects in nearly every performance: is it possible that precisely these are what attract the typical Berlin theatregoers, young men between the ages of about 18 and 25? It is unimaginable for the larger theatres in Riga. After they have tucked their jackets under their seats and folded together their typical Berlin badges, knitted caps rolled up at the back, they are all eyes and ears. They demonstrate lively reactions and look intellectual – and emotionally moved. During intermission, the people hold beer bottles in their hands and buy rather large pretzels. A man was also selling them before the performance at the entrance to the Volksbühne.




More entries from Undīne Adamaite’s Berlin Journal:

Berlin, 5.1.2013: Neither a False Tourist Nor Truly a Local
Berlin, 6.1.2013: Sunday Rest in the City
Berlin, 7.1.2013: The Berliners’ Lightness of Being
Berlin, 8.1.2013: At the Tagesspiegel
Berlin, 9.1.2013: A Monthly Portion of Courtesy
Berlin, 10.1.2013: A Play in a Foreign Language Remains a Façade
Berlin, 13.1.2013: An Intermediate Summary
Berlin, 16.1.2013: Fired with Premium Fuel
Berlin, 19.1.2013: Blind Date
Berlin, 21.1.2013: Old Fashioned and In Demand
Berlin, 26.1.2013: Čus, Berlin!