“What was this place? It has such presence that it had to have been something special — something significant. Do you know what it was in the past?” I looked up at Stefan as we walked through the arched opening and into an area that had flea-market type stalls set up. But my friend from Berlin didn’t know anything about it other than the current incarnation as a rather shabby-looking artists’ collective.
Banner on iron fencing advertising metal sculptures inside Kunsthaus Tacheles
Stalls beneath the arched entry of Kunsthaus Tacheles in Berlin
Looming overhead were statues atop tall columns, headless statues with workmanship that told of days long gone when the building and the arched entry had been something splendid.
Headless sculpture at Kunsthaus Tacheles in Berlin
My body was distinctly ill at ease as we walked through the adjacent shop that sold the paintings of several artists belonging to the collective. I internally acknowledged that sharpness as I examined various works of art.
Exterior of Kunsthaus Tacheles
The atmosphere was heavy with some sort of prickly energy and questions lingered in my brain for hours after we had returned to the car and driven away. So I went in search of information about the Kunsthaus Tacheles on Oranienburger Strasse and I was quite stunned with what I discovered.
The official Kunsthaus Tacheles website has an English-language entry with a bit of information about the history halfway down the page.
But a far darker set of revelations are detailed at the Wikipedia entry for Kunsthaus Tacheles.
From the early days as a department store, it had changed hands several times until it became a Nazi prison and SS Headquarters during World War II — and that lingering residue in the atmosphere would certainly account for the uncomfortable energy that I felt. The chaotic appearance of the entire structure would put off quite a lot of people and a shallow interpretation of the energy that I was feeling prior to doing this research might have people thinking that it was just the state of decay and general level of mess that made me uneasy. No — it was far more palpable and deep than that. And yes, I can understand from a public relations perspective why the ‘official’ website skims over the events of the Nazi occupation.
I was not allowed to take pictures inside due to the many signs stating that no photos were allowed. So I’ve had to limit the shots in this post to the ones that I could safely take in the arched entryway and the exterior views. I do understand the restrictions on photography since the one artists’ shopfront that we entered had some splendid paintings — and every artist, myself included, wants to protect their artistic or intellectual rights to their work.
There have been attempts to raze the structure to the ground for several decades and apparently the artists within feel that this danger still exists. They are handing out flyers inside asking people to please support their cause. The white mural below is painted on the left side of the building as a sign of protest.
"How long is now" banner at Kunsthaus Tacheles
Next to the white mural is the 3-D roach sign which translates (according to the German-to-English Google translate site — so please forgive me if it isn’t completely correct!) as “Before the wall, after the wall, sent the State the bugs.” I think we can all get the gist of that!
Roach as political statement on Kunsthaus Tacheles
An article in the British press in January 2011 titled “East Berlin fights back against the yuppy invaders” details this struggle. The real estate development potential of the site may hold more power with the Berlin government than the thought of losing another historic landmark.
The sensible little ‘serial house renovator’ in me thinks that obtaining a grant, based on the historic preservation aspects of the building, to at least spruce up the exterior of the building could perhaps sooth the fretfulness of those in the neighbourhood who think that the bomb-site appearance is no longer in keeping with the rest of the street. But then again, the artists who use that space might like the chaotic-creative-frenetic vibe and wish to keep it just as it is without ‘prettying it up.”
There is still a lingering question for me and it is one that my personal curiosity, and the world, may never have an answer to. Why was the sub-basement of that building flooded by the Nazis? What was down there that they didn’t want uncovered?
If the building does get torn down, I rather doubt that any property developer would allow that information about the contents of the flooded sub-basement to be released. But it will nag at me on occasion — it truly will.
Mysteries — mysteries. Perhaps after all of this time, it is best not to know.
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