Unscene Berlin

I checked out Stattbad's Wedding's Christmas arts market last Sunday night. The Stattmarkt , as it was called, was housed within the venue's shower rooms. It was like a cross between a Turkish bath and a Turkish bazaar. A long, tiled corridor ran down the centre of the room and the shower cubicles leading off of it were occupied by artists selling their wares. The constant buzz of a tattooist's needle, rising from one of the cubicles, underpinned the strains of music coming from the bar next door, where a guitarist was soloing to introspective, tough techno. As I passed each cubicle, avant-garde artisans leaned out to invite me in or chatted with their neighbours. In other cubicles I saw artists lost in their work, oblivious to the confines of their allotted space as they splattered stencils with paint or sewed crafts. Roars of laughter rose up from groups of people who had gathered inside the other cubicles, unseen. The constant susuruss of their voices w...