Tuesday, 29 September 2009
Tacheles, Berlin
Amanda Kavanagh revisits the famous Tacheles squat in Berlin before decisions are made on its future.
Despite animosity towards social networking sites, it cannot be denied that they do provide a palatable platform for gauging the current zeitgeist.
From groups like ‘Stop The X-Factor losers releasing Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah as a single’ on Facebook to endless quizzes like ‘Which Top Gear presenter are you?’ on Bebo – I’m James May by the way which means, I am slow, with no sense of direction and a dated hair style, apparently.
But aside from the more frivolous quizzes and groups are those with a more serious motive, such as ‘Save the Tacheles’. Currently housing over four hundred members on Facebook, this group is part of a wider effort to save the famous Berlin squat from property developers.
A decade ago the Berlin city council sold the land on which the settlement resides to property developers Fundus Group. At the time, the Fundus Group allowed the building to maintain a cultural role by allowing artist’s to rent there for the sum of 40p.
However as this lease expires at the end of this year, the group are reportedly planning to build luxury apartments and an exclusive hotel. Definite plans have not yet been made available; but it is unlikely that its commercial plans would ever meet the approval of Kunsthaus’ residents. Hence, the campaigning.
The famous squat occupies a large building of 9,000 square metres, formerly a department store on Oranienburgerstrasse in Berlin. However, Tacheles now functions as a nightclub and international arts centre. But aside from the art and its dramatic appearance – its exterior is decorated in bright graffiti and artwork – the building itself has a colourful history.
Originally built to house a shopping mall called Friedrichstadt-Passage in 1907, after going bankrupt the site then housed AEG founders of Haus der Technik. Then during WWII, the Nazi Party used parts of the building for administrative purposes and even held prisoners on the 5th floor.
Following damages caused during allied air raids, the building fell into disrepair which went ignored by East Berlin government officials until plans for demolition in April 1990 were disrupted when two months prior, a group of young artists, influenced by the developments in subcultures since the fall of the wall, moved in.
Throughout the years the centre thrived as an art studio and gallery, a centre for discussion, debate, theatre, poetry readings, and latterly; a cinema and nightclub. And as a result of its contribution to the arts, the government now subsidies the settlement with maintenance.
Although many argue that this funding compromises the ideals of the Tacheles, the centre itself argues that Kunsthaus Tacheles must constantly confront the “difficult challenge of remaining true to its roots and ideals without becoming too sentimental about the old squatter times.”
Whatever its funding is, the spirit of the original squatters is still alive and well at the Kunsthaus. On my visit, food and beer could still be purchased at a ridiculously cheap price in the Zapata bar, the nightclub was pulsing with a local ska band and a bearded man sporting an astrological waistcoat and top hat lead the festivities on the dance floor. Original art is still on offer for prices that would truly shame Damien Hirst.
Kuntshaus resident Khaled Kenawi says, “Shutting down all this would be a huge loss. There is a difference between the art market and art, and we are that difference.” Whereas elsewhere in Berlin, small squatter settlements are still active and the city has become a refuge for international artists, including many Irish, seeking a supportive environment and cheap living costs.
It is very easy to become idealistic and nostalgic over Europe’s dying squatter history and the romantic notions it conjures. But with over 20,000 signatures on their petition and a further four hundred on Facebook objecting to the likely eviction of Tacheles by the Fundus Group, squatter culture still retains a strong solidarity.
With big decisions being made in the next few weeks, the future of German art and squatter culture are in turmoil. Tacheles artist and resident AR Adler maintains, “We will fight. This is the last place left where you are free to be an artist.” And so, the age-old fight between squatters and developers continues.
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