With my ambitious agenda of things to see and do in Berlin, I am glad we had a return trip planned. Despite the forecast of rain during the entire three and a half days we were to be in Berlin, we fortunately experienced more data points to demonstrate the shortcomings of weather prediction. Other than the downpour that began just two minutes before I boarded the bus to the airport (Henry left by train to Gottingen earlier in the day), most of the rain remained in the frequently threatening clouds. Improved weather prediction happens to be one of the possible applications of a theory on which Henry is working. The sabbatical gives him a chance to think deep thoughts about science (he thinks deep thoughts about me, too, so I am told!), without being interrupted by the rest of the world.
I explored while Henry attended two days of meetings at our hotel (Melia--centrally located and well appointed). I started with a three and a half hour boat trip along Berlin's waterways. The city claims to have more bridges than Venice. Whether or not that is true (I have never been to Venice), the boat took us under about 50 bridges, both old and new. Part of the trip took us through the Landwehrkanal, with several locks. Despite directions to remain seated on the upper deck because of low bridges, it was extremely difficult for a shutterbug like me to comply when we were in the open between the bridges. Not only did the boat tour provide a good overview of the city (I got the somewhat truncated, written English version of the German guided tour), it also provided a good vantage point to see the frequent contrasts among the restored old, the new, and the remaining shells of abandoned buildings (see photos). In addition, I could see sights I would not otherwise have seen--e.g., the seemingly out of place sand, beach chairs, and umbrellas dotting the stone-sided "shores" of the canal and Spree River, students hanging out, literally, at the river's edge, satellite dishes prominently displayed on many apartment balconies, the Turkish market along the river (Berlin apparently has the world's largest Turkish community outside of Turkey), old, graffiti splattered boats docked in front of new, modern apartment buildings (see photos).
In no special order of preference, here are some destinations from my wanderings through Berlin:
1. Pergamon Museum: The museum is named after one of its premier holdings, the reconstructed remains of the Hellenistic Pergamon Altar, dating back to about 170 BCE. The reconstructed remains of the Roman Market Gate of Miletus (from around 120 CE) (see photo) and the tiled Gate of Ishtar (from about 600 BCE) (see photo) are equally impressive. The museum also houses the Museum for Islamic Art, which includes the exquisitely paneled Allepo Room from 17th century Syria. Unfortunately, the battery in my camera lost its juice before I got to that part of the museum! If a tourist has time to visit only one of the several museums on "Museuminsel" (Museum Island), I recommend this one, hands down!
2. Altes Museum: On Museum Island, and home to a collection of ancient Greek art.
3. Bode Museum: On Museum Island, and home to the Museum of Byzantine Art, sculpture from the Middle Ages through the 18th century, and a numismatic collection. Neither the Altes Museum nor the Bode Museum impressed me as much as the Pergamon, but that is more a function of individual preference than quality of the respective exhibits.
4. Berliner Dom (see photo): This cathedral was destroyed during World War II and remained a ruin for the following 30 years. It was restored in its original Italian Renaissance style and is the most imposing structure on Museum Island. I could have passed on the crypt where 90 or so sarcophagi of former Hohenzollern rulers and their families are in repose--purely a matter of personal taste!
5. German History Museum: Entry to this museum was not covered by my museum pass, but it was more than worth the separate admission fee. The relatively recent building addition, designed by I.M. Pei (of the National Gallery (Washington, D.C.) and Louvre (Paris) fame), is gorgeous (see photo), and houses temporary exhibitions (the one I viewed was 1989: Photographs of the Turn of an Era). I was more interested, however, in the museum's treatment of the period between 1918 and the 1950's, i.e., how the rise of Hitler and the Third Reich were depicted and to what extent the displays explained if and how Germans came to terms with that era of history. Even by beginning my tour at 1918, I did not get past about 1944 by the five minutes before closing time warning. Able only to breeze through a few of the numerous additional display cases, I came away (fairly or not) with this editorialized version of the Germans' depiction of this period:
a. Antisemitism in Germany and elsewhere has existed for centuries. Nevertheless, Jews fought for the Kaiser during World War I, just as did other groups who were subsequently deemed "deficient" by the Nazis. Although the number of Jews in Germany at the end of World War I constituted less than 1% of the population, Hitler took advantage of a "perfect storm" confluence of factors to blame poor economic conditions and other failings of the Weimar Republic on the Jews. Because of harsh reparations and other conditions dictated by the victorious countries in the Treaty of Versailles, Germans sought solutions in alternative forms of government. For whatever reasons (I'd like to research this question in more depth), a number of German Jews joined the Communist Party (KPD) in post-World War I Germany. Perhaps Jews were drawn to the KPD by the socialist "ideal" of equal rights--something they had been denied for centuries in different degrees in various countries. And, despite the affluence of some German Jews, many, among them Jews who moved west from Russia to escape the pogroms under the Czar, suffered the same economic woes as other Germans. In any event, in the 1920's and early 1930's, the KPD was a major political party in Germany, with representation in the parliament and generally garnering 10-15% of the vote (in other words, by the numbers alone, the KPD could hardly be considered a Jewish plot!). The KPD hoped to form a united front of the working class and to defeat the growing power of Nazi fascism. In early 1933, shortly after Hitler was appointed Chancellor, the Reichtag was set on fire. Hitler and the Nazis blamed the fire on the Communists, and took advantage of this event to give Hitler dictatorial powers. The KPD was squelched, with many Communist officials arrested and sent to concentration camps. Jews who were members of the KPD faced a double whammy.
b. Having outlawed opposition parties and establishing a totalitarian single party, the Nazis used fear tactics (e.g., Dachau Concentration Camp, opened in 1933, was first used for political and other perceived opponents of the Nazi regime)) and an overwhelming propaganda machine (directed especially toward the young) to garner support and remove opposition. Whether rank and file Germans were enthusiastic Hitler supporters or not, they are portrayed in the museum as following the path of, in my words, "going along to get along". Having targets such as Jews, Gypsies, homosexuals, and the like as objects at which "real" Germans could direct their frustration and discontent, apparently was sufficient to keep the German population in check. It also helped that many Germans profited from laws forcing Jews to sell their businesses, homes, and belongings at fractions of their worth. In addition, big German business could support the war effort with slave laabor offered by the Nazis.
c. Not every German was a Hitler supporter, and the museum emphasizes that opposition had its price, which most Germans were not willing to pay.
d. Although various high-ranking Nazis were tried for war crimes, the trials petered out as the Cold War warmed up. As a result, many Germans who held official posts during the war were not prosecuted and they ultimately returned to their former posts.
e. Some German companies have been more willing than others to pay reparations to individuals who worked as slave labor during the war.
6. The New Synagogue (see photo): Opened in 1866, it was called "new" because it replaced a smaller synagogue. The New Synagogue housed a Reform congregation, and, with 3,200 seats, it was the largest synagogue in Germany. It clearly did not matter to Hitler that the initiation of "Reform" religious practices was an indication of Jewish assimilation as Germans. As fate would have it, the New Synagogue suffered far more damage from Allied bombs in 1945 than during Kristallnacht (Night of Broken Glass), in November 1938, when synagogues were destroyed, Jewish businesses and homes were ransacked, hundreds were murdered, and as many as 30,000 Jews were arrested and sent to concentration camps. The New Synagogue was saved from destruction by fire during Kristallnacht due, in part, to the noble oppositional act of a local police officer. He got the mob to disperse by warning that the building was a protected historical landmark, thereby enabling the fire department access to put out the fire. After World War II, the building was partially restored (including its beautiful Moorish style domes) and now houses a museum. The temporary exhibit--German Jews in Sports in the 1920's and 1930's--was especially interesting. In response to the United States and other countries threatening to boycott the 1936 Berlin Olympics, Hitler agreed to place one Jew and two half Jews to the German Olympic team. Two of these three women had already emigrated from Germany; and at least one of them had already qualified for the British team. All three had held national and/or world records in their respective track and field sports. I do not know how Hitler ensured their return to Germany (by threatening harm on other family members, perhaps??). In any event, once Hitler made these additions to the German team, the United States was placated, and the American team set sail for Germany. Once the team was on its way, and just two weeks before the games began, Hitler removed the three women from the German team. Sadly, their removal brought no further opposition from the U.S. I was also impressed by the variety of activities that took place at the synagogue prior to the war. One which stood out was the offering of emigration classes to those who were attempting to leave the country in the 1930's.
7. Central Memorial of the Federal Republic of Germany to the Victims of War and Tyranny: A war memorial since 1931 and located in the former East Berlin, the memorial was rededicated in 1993, after the reunification of Germany. It contains the remains of an unknown German soldier and an unknown concentration camp victim from World War II. In the middle of an otherwise empty room, directly under a circular opening in the roof, is an enlarged copy of a sculpture by Kathe Kollwitz--Mother with her Dead Son (see photo). Kollwitz, who died just before the end of the war in 1945, was an out-spoken pacifist whose work often depicted the hard life of ordinary workers. In the 1930's, the Nazi Party forced her to resign her professorship at the Prussian Academy of the Arts and her work was removed from museums. The sculpture is a powerful and fitting statement of all who suffer through war and tyranny.
8. Charlottenburg Palace, Belvedere, and Gardens (see photos): More of the same palace "stuff", dating back to the early 18th century, but I still enjoy it--not only the ornate interiors, but the beautiful and relaxing gardens. The Belvedere houses a nice collection of Berlin Porcelain Manufactory (KPM) porcelain, which is not among the top collections I have seen so far.
9. Brohan Museum and Berggruen Museum: There are three small museums across the street from Charlottenburg Palace. Once I was in the vicinity and with a bit of extra time, I stopped in at two of them. The Art Deco and Art Nouveau textiles, silver, furniture, and glass in the Brohan Museum did not strike a strong chord with me (personal taste again), but I was very impressed with the "Picasso and His Time" collection at the Berggruen Museum next door. Part of what sets this exhibit apart from others is the history behind it. Heinz Berggruen was a Jew, born in Berlin. Beginning his career as a journalist, he left Germany in 1936, after he was told that because of his Jewish name, his articles would be signed with only his initials. Studying art in the United States, he became an art critic for the San Francisco Chronicle. He later joined the U.S. Army, fought in the European theater, and settled in Paris after Wold War II. There, he opened an art gallery, became friends with Picasso, and ultimately became a collector in his own right. In the mid-1990s, after 60 years in exile, Berggruen accepted an invitation to display his collection (modern art previously deemed degenerate in Nazi Germany) in the refurbished building that is now the Berggruen Museum. As a gesture of reconciliation with his homeland, he donated the collection to the Berlin State Museums for a payment of approximately one-tenth of the collection's value. Bergruenn was subsequently awarded honorary citizenship of Berlin and Germany's Federal Cross of Merit.
10. Winterfeldt Market: Another open air market and off the well-beaten tourist path, but a fine spot to buy fruits for my picnic lunch in the Charlottenburg Palace Gardens. This market reminded me of the Del Mar Fair (darn, I missed it this year!), in large part because I got "caught" by a purveyor of "better than anyone else's" skin products!
11. Unter den Linden and Alexanderplatz: More places to wander and to see and be seen. After walking part of the Unter den Linden two weeks earlier, Henry and I walked the rest of it, traveling east toward Alexanderplatz (another tourist magnet). The western half of Unter den Linden, from Friedrichstrasse (the street on which our hotel was located, just a couple of blocks off of UDL) to the Brandenburg Gate, is prettier, maybe because it was uncomfortably warm when we walked the other way!
What is particularly noteworthy about my list of sights is that, except for the market, Charlottenburg, and the two nearby museums, all of the sights are located in what was formerly East Berlin. This is a tribute to the grand efforts Germans have made to blend the two Berlins and two Germanys. Late in his life, Heinz Berggruen was quoted as saying, "I am neither French nor German. I am European. I'd very much like to think there was a European nationality, but I think I may be dreaming." Who knows what the future of the European Union may bring??
Two museums I missed, but would have liked to visit, were the Kathe Kollwitz Museum (recommended by our daughter Sara, and affirmed by my viewing of the Mother with Her Dead Son sculpture at the Central Memorial to the Victims of War and Tyranny) and the Berlin Guggenheim Museum (I'm a big fan of the Guggenheim Museum in New York; unfortunately, the Berlin Guggenheim was between exhibitions and therefore closed).
One restaurant is worth mentioning--Al Contadino, an Italian restaurant recommended in an article published in the Swiss airline magazine. The place was jumping with good reason--the food was delicious!
Monday, July 13, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment