Unscene Berlin

Who said, "Tear down this wall?" It hardly matters. All that matters is the people who actually  did  it - people like you and I.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned from living in an ex-Eastern Bloc country, it’s that the Iron Curtain didn’t fall just because of what any one leader said or did. It also fell because the majority of people didn't want it anymore, and refused to let it stand in their way. I think there is a lesson to be learned there for all would-be activists, but especially those who are frustrated with their government's inaction on climate change.  Not that many English speaking visitors to Berlin realise this, but quite a few people who lived in the GDR believed that the Wall was a necessary defence against the capitalist, militarised West.  That was what their leaders led them to believe. Nowadays, we are so used to thinking of the Wall as a fence that kept people in, we forget that for many people on the eastern side of it, it was se

Ah, the 1990's... ...a time when raves were getting banned, streets were being reclaimed, guerrilla gardeners were re-sculpting urban landscapes, Chiapas was being re-taken by peaceful radicals; a time of mass squatting across every urban centre. It was also a time when half of this blog's readership was still in its diapers! That sucks for them but this Thursday, January 24th, they'll get a second chance to see what the 1990's were like at On the Radical Roots of Rave #2 .  The fact is, even with photography and hand held video cameras - not to mention CD, vinyl, tapes - my generation couldn't capture all the best parts of the 1990's. There were too many parties, riots, happenings and actions taking up our time. And remember, camera phones didn't even exist back then! But this party and exhibit on Thursday aims to share a few of the 'stroboscopic artefacts' that we managed to grab; in particular, the parts that are relevant to sound

Beginning this Friday December 7th, Datacide and Next:Now are going to be hosting a series of freeform political talks at Vetomat about what's happening in our culture... Nostalgia. Fear. The power that advertising holds to detach us from the present. The power of subculture to free us from it. These are all potent themes in a city like Berlin, resonating as it is with the echoes of alternating eras of warfare and hedonism. Berlin's residents have become used to seeing these themes ruthlessly capitalised upon and recreated by the tourism and entertainment industries. But now, these industries have slid from being a mechanism that lets people remember the past to one that lets them recreate it, dangerously, in a spell of detachment. If one traces a path from European capitals like Berlin, that have been scarred by war, to decadent American metropolises like Las Vegas that exploded with post-war success, one sees the template that dooms the West to re-ena

Gegen 8ternity flyer. (Artwork copyright: Gegen Berlin) Saturday January 5th,  2:00 a.m. "They have new rooms now, down in the basement," says my wide-eyed friend Rene in a husky voice, before taking me by the hand and leading me down the steps into KitKat's apparently infinite cellar. (My balance is a bit off, it must be whatever I drank earlier). We trace a wavy path through the rambling subterranean hallways, around translucent pennants that hang on alternating sides of the hall, printed with tasteful nudes doing tasteless things, undulating fluidly in the body temperature air.  The hall opens out into a bar, which opens out into a fakeshift hospital ward. We pass doubled-over bodies getting whipped & spanked; protruding buttocks scarred with lashes and splattered with red wax. There are hips rolling on gurneys, glistening bald heads and tossing manes, camp laughter and almost inaudible moans. And then that room opens on to Gegentanz: a wide