Die beste Bildung

Wednesday consisted of a lot of museum hopping, for I had purchased a three-day museum pass for the very attractive price of €9.5, which afforded me admission to the permanent exhibitions of almost 100 museums in the city.

I started at the Hamburger Bahnhof, which despite its name is no longer a train station, rather a museum of contemporary art. The museum itself was rather primitive exhibition place, but the contents were far from ordinary. In the permanent collection was a set of works by the West-German Cold War artist Anselm Kiefer, who according to Professor Jennings is “one of the most problematic artists of his time”. There was a big painting titled Wege der Weltweisheit: die Hermannschlacht (Due to the wisdom of the world: the Battle of the Teutoberg Forest), which twin I had glimpsed in the Martin-Gropius Bau. This two-tone painting was a collage of woodcuts of prominent figures in German intellectual and political history, people like Immanuel Kant and Karl Marx, with their faces brutally crossed out and overlaid with images of burning branches, to illustrate how centuries of German tradition and reputation since the renowned battle in year 9 AD was annihilated by the Holocaust. I thought it was genius, and the nearby Mohn & Gedächtnis, a grey cardboard statue of a bomber, was great as well. I also enjoyed a set of three paintings by Robert Rauschenberg, titled Stripper, First Time Painting and The Frightened Gods of Fortune respectively. The abstract representations took me some time to interpret, but they were extremely clever.

Left: Hamburger Bahnhof; Right: View of Altes Museum from across the Lustgarten

I visited a temporary exhibit on an artist network known as Fluxus, whose members included the famous Nam June Paik and Joseph Beuys among many others. They believed that art should be public instead of private property, and therfore sold works at very low prices and offered many free performances to make art easily accessible to the masses. Their motto was “Kunst is Leben, Leben ist Kunst” (Art is life, life is art), and through their creative transformations of ordinary objects into works of art, one could easily see how this brave vision was made into reality. Some of their works were very baffling though, including of course Beuys’ interaction with his dead hare, and a “public performance guide” which read:

Six exhibits:
- Ceiling
- First Wall
- Second Wall
- Third Wall
- Fourth Wall
- Floor

Much of the exhibition space was dedicated to Joseph Beuys, whose art I still have difficulties comprehending (to me, wrapping up a grand piano in fat and felt is more a demonstration of insanity than one of innovation). One of his works, however, was very interesting. Titled Das Ende des 20. Jahrhunderts, it used a collection of volcanic rocks to represent an apocalyptic vision. These rocks came out of the mouth of a volcano in liquid, malleable form, and their shape only became fixed once they cooled down. The transformation from energetic movement to complete rigidity was an unusual yet very appropriate metaphor for the death of progress, and the work definitely helped me appreciate the work of this incomparably controversial artist.

Berliner Dom

I then went to the Museumsinsel, but before using my museum pass once again, I made a detour to the Berliner Dom. Though the exterior of this 104-year old building may be a confusing and somewhat forced combination of different styles, the interior was fantastically magnificent, and almost made me regret suggesting the Czech Republic instead of Germany as the destination of the Princeton Chapel Choir’s next trip. I would love to try out the acoustics here and sing to the accompaniment of the enormous organ some day!

On the two sides of the cathedral (I forgot the technical term for this…) and in the crypt were the sarcophagi of Prussian royals, the most famous of which was Frederick I, founder of the Kingdom of Prussia, and Frederick III, the enlightened Kaiser who unfortunately only reigned for 99 days. Notably missing, however, were Wilhelm I, who had chosen to be buried at Schloss Charlottenburg, and of course Frederick the Great, whose simple grave next to his favourite Schloss Sanssouci is far more memorable than any elaborate sarcophagus in the Berliner Dom.

Next stop was the Alte Nationalgallerie, which featured German art from the late 18th to early 20th century. On the first floor was a series of fascinating works by Adolf Menzel, many of them depicting the life and times of Frederick the Great. The most famous one there was Flötenkonzert Friedrichs des Großen in Sanssouci, showing the Prussian king playing one of his own flute sonatas in the main hall of Sanssouci while C.P.E. Bach accompanied him on the harpsichord. This was the painting which prompted me to develop an interest in Frederick the Great, so I was absolutely exhilarated to see not only the original, but also its draft.

Left: Alte Nationalgallerie; Right: Flötenkonzert Friedrichs des Großen in Sanssouci by Adolf Menzel

Another part of the museum which I really liked was a hall on the third floor dedicated to the works of Caspar David Friedrich, most famous for Der Wanderer über dem Nebelmeer (The Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog). His use of colour and shading to create dramatic landscapes in Abtei im Eichwald (Abbey in Oak Wood), Der Monch am Meer (The Monk by the Sea) and Der Greifswalder Hafen (The Greifswald Harbour) produce an intense effect that few artists can match. The audio guide used Karl Theodor Körners exquisite poem Totenlandschaft (Landscape of the Dead) to accompany the first painting, which further enhanced the phenomenal experience.

Left to Right: Abtei im Eichwald, Der Monch am Meer, Der Greifswalder Hafen (all by Caspar David Friedrich)

This was followed by a quick walk through the Pergamon, probably the most popular museum among the 170+ in Berlin. This museum of ancient history contains gargantuan reconstructions of classical Greek structures, most notably the Pergamon Altar. Despite my lack of interest in the ancient Greeks, I know this is a museum I will never forget. The 19th century reconstruction of Nebuchadnezzar II’s Ishtar Tor and the exhibits in the near and far east collections were just as impressive.

Left: the Pergamon temple, constructed from fragments excavated in the Ottoman Empire;
Right: Market Gate of Miletus, another structure constructed from archaeological finds

Left: Reconstruction of the Ishtar Tor from Babylon; Right: Syrian architecture inside the museum

I finally headed to the Altes Museum, and though the antique collection was completely outside my spectrum of interests, I am glad to say that I have seen the original bust of Nefertiti, and for a work of art more than 3000 years old, it is extraordinarily beautiful and well-preserved.

Left: Altes Museum from across the Lustgarten; Right: Bust of Nefertiti

It had been a long day, but before heading back to my hostel I still had an appointment – I was meeting up with Nat, a fellow Princetonian who is in Berlin for the Summer Work Program organized by the Department of German. I had set up a meeting for “Monday evening” (29 June), but because of my horrible sense of time, I had mistaken 29 June for a Sunday and made him walk around at the Frankfurter Tor U-Bahn station for 20 minutes to no avail. Fortunately, he accepted my apologies and graciously agreed to meet on this day. This time he brought along his boyfriend Newton, also a Princetonian and a participant of the Work Program who I had not met before, and we sat for an hour and a half in an Indian restaurant, talking about our summers so far and how much we like Princeton. I had a wonderful time, and it was a great way to end the eventful day.