Adolf Hitler would despise the Berlin of today. Its roads And sidewalks of ethnically diverse faces and foods, piercings, tinted mohawks, sexual tolerance, and unrestrained creative and political expression will curl his little mustache. But frankly, he must have seen it coming. Hitler was a pupil of the German classics, and it is an early Germanic notion that transformation and tragedy are equal partners. The Teutonic God Wotan had to carve out his own eye, then gradually die while impaled on a tree in exchange for eternal wisdom. Nietzsche preached a human’s spirit must slay its inner dragon so as to be reborn as a kid. Even Hansel and Gretel had to escape a cannibalistic witch to make their freedom and fortune. A glorious rebirth first requires death and darkness.

That, to me, makes East Berlin the very Germanic of German cities. It’s been through a few epically dark shit. It survived the growth of Nazism, the destruction and death of WWII, only to be closed off from the Iron Curtain, where it stayed for 40 years before the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1990. And since Germanic mythos could have it–the darker the tragedy, the brighter the conversion. Berlin would rally hard, beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. Notably Adolf Hitler’s.

Part of the excitement and vibe of Berlin is that it’s still In transition, an wonderful cultural opus that stays an interesting work in advance. However, progress was difficult early on for the Ossi’s (Easterners). Decades of communism positioned the East at a brutal struggle to reach the capitalism of the West. Sudden unemployment, devalued currency, and enormous emigration took years to conquer.

In the meantime, a funny thing began to happen. As many Ossi’s fled into the modernity and prosperity of the West, they crossed paths with many Wessi’s (Westerners) looking for the freedom and opportunity of the East. Vacant buildings, low rents, and a liberal, if not, anarchic spirit beckoned them across the fallen split.

These opportunities appealed to adventurers beyond Germany too. There he discovered the”Reichsbahnausbesserungswerk,” a large railroad maintenance yard, defunct since the reunification. Inside, it is a gallery, bookstore, nightclub, and artist residence. Think CBGB matches Mad Max meets MoMA PS1. Only cooler.

Pascal invited me to mural on the large arched brick wall on In a joyous atmosphere similar to this, there are constant reminders of a darker ago, and that I was motivated by that ironic contrast, challenging myself to create a mural that could be both serious and irreverent. To me, that’s what the creative ethos of Berlin has become now. Interesting, free, experimental–but with an underlying respect and reverence for the tragedies and sacrifices of long ago.

Biked the endless neighborhoods of Friedrichshain. Bikes are by far the best method to cover town, and simple to rent off the street with a program. What struck me the hardest was that the absolute size of it all–so many cubes and areas of coolness. Two of our favorite places were the Reichsbahnausbesserungswerk zone surrounding Urban Spree, with dozens of funky bars, cafes, beer gardens, an outdoor climbing wall. The Mauerpark Flea Market was huge, and filled up with Soviet era artifacts, classic and original clothes, crafts, books, documents, and appliances, along with also an awesome food court (the freshly smoked mackerel was insane), and beer garden (too many good German beers to mention, but I love the Weiss biers). We also visited the Berlin Holocaust Memorial, a hefty but necessary afternoon. Obviously, we saw that the remaining section of the wall, now referred to as the Berlin Wall Gallery, which hosts local artist murals.

Many Berliners are too young to recall the Berlin Wall, But its shadow . And though gentrification has begun its inevitable invasion, the city’s rebelliousness will not escape. Berlin remains punk rock, and is as far away from that which Hitler could imagine as possible. It’s some small justice that he died here, and that I can only hope his ghost still lingers around in miserable misery over what the town has become. Since Berlin is your shit. Thanks to Pascal, Michelle, Loic, and many others for the hospitality. I can not wait to return for more.

Adolf Hitler would despise the Berlin of today. Its roads And sidewalks of ethnically diverse faces and foods, piercings, tinted mohawks, sexual tolerance, and unrestrained creative and political expression will curl his little mustache. But frankly, he must have seen it coming. Hitler was a pupil of the German classics, and it is an early Germanic notion that transformation and tragedy are equal partners. The Teutonic God Wotan had to carve out his own eye, then gradually die while impaled on a tree in exchange for eternal wisdom. Nietzsche preached a human’s spirit must slay its inner dragon so as to be reborn as a kid. Even Hansel and Gretel had to escape a cannibalistic witch to make their freedom and fortune. A glorious rebirth first requires death and darkness.

That, to me, makes East Berlin the very Germanic of German cities. It’s been through a few epically dark shit. It survived the growth of Nazism, the destruction and death of WWII, only to be closed off from the Iron Curtain, where it stayed for 40 years before the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1990. And since Germanic mythos could have it–the darker the tragedy, the brighter the conversion. Berlin would rally hard, beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. Notably Adolf Hitler’s.

Part of the excitement and vibe of Berlin is that it’s still In transition, an wonderful cultural opus that stays an interesting work in advance. However, progress was difficult early on for the Ossi’s (Easterners). Decades of communism positioned the East at a brutal struggle to reach the capitalism of the West. Sudden unemployment, devalued currency, and enormous emigration took years to conquer.

In the meantime, a funny thing began to happen. As many Ossi’s fled into the modernity and prosperity of the West, they crossed paths with many Wessi’s (Westerners) looking for the freedom and opportunity of the East. Vacant buildings, low rents, and a liberal, if not, anarchic spirit beckoned them across the fallen split.

These opportunities appealed to adventurers beyond Germany too. There he discovered the”Reichsbahnausbesserungswerk,” a large railroad maintenance yard, defunct since the reunification. Inside, it is a gallery, bookstore, nightclub, and artist residence. Think CBGB matches Mad Max meets MoMA PS1. Only cooler.

Pascal invited me to mural on the large arched brick wall on In a joyous atmosphere similar to this, there are constant reminders of a darker ago, and that I was motivated by that ironic contrast, challenging myself to create a mural that could be both serious and irreverent. To me, that’s what the creative ethos of Berlin has become now. Interesting, free, experimental–but with an underlying respect and reverence for the tragedies and sacrifices of long ago.

Biked the endless neighborhoods of Friedrichshain. Bikes are by far the best method to cover town, and simple to rent off the street with a program. What struck me the hardest was that the absolute size of it all–so many cubes and areas of coolness. Two of our favorite places were the Reichsbahnausbesserungswerk zone surrounding Urban Spree, with dozens of funky bars, cafes, beer gardens, an outdoor climbing wall. The Mauerpark Flea Market was huge, and filled up with Soviet era artifacts, classic and original clothes, crafts, books, documents, and appliances, along with also an awesome food court (the freshly smoked mackerel was insane), and beer garden (too many good German beers to mention, but I love the Weiss biers). We also visited the Berlin Holocaust Memorial, a hefty but necessary afternoon. Obviously, we saw that the remaining section of the wall, now referred to as the Berlin Wall Gallery, which hosts local artist murals.

Many Berliners are too young to recall the Berlin Wall, But its shadow . And though gentrification has begun its inevitable invasion, the city’s rebelliousness will not escape. Berlin remains punk rock, and is as far away from that which Hitler could imagine as possible. It’s some small justice that he died here, and that I can only hope his ghost still lingers around in miserable misery over what the town has become. Since Berlin is your shit. Thanks to Pascal, Michelle, Loic, and many others for the hospitality. I can not wait to return for more.