Gran Turismo, Indeed

The East side is definitely where the action is; it seems everyone is arty and fashionable (like SoHo or something), and every little shitty bar and cafe has a beautifully designed sign and incredible identity work (menus, signage, interior design). A lot of the town is newly built, and there is a ton of construction going on.

This observation, by a filmmaker friend-in-law who spent a few weeks in Berlin in 2001 shooting spots for Gran Turismo 3, aptly recalls something that's always struck me about the city. Berlin is a magnet for artists and creative types, and the city has been reaping the benefits of such magnetism for a while now. Moreover, when I first came there in 1998, the appeal seemed to be Continent-wide; more and more, however, it seems to be world-wide. I'm no artworld-insider, but it's easy to get the impression that, whether you're a local Prenzlwichsler or an Osaka-born installation artist, Berlin is your new capital.

Over the years, people have asked me for advice about what to do and where to go while in Berlin, and I've provided suggestions to the extent that I'm able (given the pace of change in Berlin, advice from someone who's no longer living there is bound to be of limited value). But I've gotten tired of composing long emails on the subject and then being unable to find them for the next traveling slacker looking for guidance. So here's an attempt at some disordered, but at least revisable, suggestions (if you don't find the Berlin I found, relax: one Berlin-based correspondent now goes so far as to claim that Munich is where it's at...):

Stay with friends. If you don't have friends in Berlin, stay with my friends, if they'll have you. (It's worked before.) If they won't, or you're too shy, or we don't know each other well enough for me to be able to vouch for you, here's some advice about what do on a super-posh or just-posh budget. (I'm not sure if I've already been to the riverside Club der Visionaere mentioned in that article, but I'm definitely going next time, and putting Berlin's Summer 2008 hit in my headphones.) If you're sub-posh, try this piece on hostels. I'm no sophisticate when it comes to fine dining in the middle of Mitteleuropa, but I could prolly put together an exhaustive Google Map on the subject of chowhounding. Being lazy, however, I'll refer you to this New York Times piece. And this one, for chow-blood hounds.

East Is East, West Is West

In my heart, I'm a Prenzlberger, but people have been trying to beat the drum for West Berlin for the last ten years. Kreuzberg is, of course, still agreeably boho; every few years, however, I come across someone claiming that quieter quartiers like Charlottenburg or Schoeneberg are making the move from bourgeois to 'BoBo'.

Home Adjustment

So I just moved into my new digs for the next nine months. After sharing a 900-square-foot loft with two roommates, this is a big adjustment. The new crib has been blasted clean of every speck of dirt, and proffers gobs of space--a family could live here, and yet it's just lil' old me. I figure this is a good chance to finally get my shit organized--I mean, I have a guest room, but who the hell's gonna visit me so far off the beaten track? It'll spend most of its time as a 'projects' room--as well as to try to see how far I can diverge from the ways we commonly use living space.

A few years ago, a team of cultural sociologists talked their way into a number of middle-class living rooms in order to see what kinds of patterns obtained in the way people from similar backgrounds arrange and decorate their spaces. I was struck by how tightly folks tend to follow scripts without at all realizing there's any kind of script, and I have asked myself ever since how possible it is to improvise on them. Most middle-class people do their formal entertaining in the living room, right? Then there's the formal dining room; the family might have a den in which they do their actual living, as well as much of their eating (in front of the TV). Home office in the study, etc.

My place, too, is set up for Standard American Domestic Design. It's got a living room, dining room, wood-paneled study, kitchen, enclosed porches back and front, two bedrooms upstairs. Every room pretty much suggests what to do with it and how--the devil is in the details of where you put the couch. But since I don't have a couch--I drove down w/a bed, a dresser, and a bookcase--I figure I'm already a step ahead when it comes to trying to re-imagine this place.

Since I barely have any furniture, and since I'm ranging over the entire house, I figure the key is be (1) minimalist and (2) mobile. As big a pack rat as I am, I simply don't have enough stuff to fill the space, so I can let one object dominate and define each room. And because I've got a lot of room to cover, things should be on wheels whenever possible.  

And entertaining, too, in a James Bond-y, Swiss-Army-knife kind of way.  Can't forget entertaining.

I'm not exactly winding up to a punchline here--just thinking aloud about my process here. But I think it could issue in a couple of interesting pics in the next few weeks.