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Berlin – Fragmented City I. Fragmented urban landscape We think of cities as dense places, characterised by their fullness in built form and functions. We think of cities as places filled with life and urbanity; an artificial world, a contrast to the openness of the surrounding nature. However, this fullness of cities is contrasted by an empty, or negative, zone (Studio E.U. 2006). Global processes and structural changes in the economy have changed the cities. Old industries have disappeared, new technologies have been developed and the production is being decentralised, and as a result “former industrial premises, disused railways and rail-freight yards (…) are spreading throughout the inner cities.” (Overmeyer 2007). These empty buildings and vacant spaces lie like vacuums within the fullness of the city and wait for new use. Essentially, this contrast between fullness and emptiness, between the built and the voids, is what characterises the fragmented urban landscape. Moreover, as these premises within the city lie disused, nature slowly starts to reoccupy them. A wilderness starts growing, and gradually the fragmentation is accentuated further so that we no longer can talk about a clear division between city and nature. If certain memories and images of fullness occur in us when we think about the city, a lack of correspondence appears between our expectations and our perception of the fragmented “urban landscape”. “This mental construction is consequently likely to have very little to do with the reality that we experience every day.” (Kniess and Lagos 2006) II. Crashes of realities Berlin is a city where such a fragmentation can be clearly read. Not only through the inner-city emptiness, but also because of the many crashes of different realities which can be observed all over the city. Compared to other Western cities, Berlin has a special story to tell, and signs of its history can be read in its physical structure. With the bombings of World War II, the following partition of the city and the uncertain economic situation afterwards, its stories have been told, erased and retold. In May 1945, 70 percent of the city lay in ruins, 80000 houses were destroyed and one and a half million people were homeless (Oswalt 2000). The physical structure of the city was more or less completely destroyed. Furthermore, the rebuilding of the city in the post-war period was hindered by the division of the city and later by the building of the Wall. After the reunification the city was left with a long "scar" running along the former Wall area and “vast areas of derelict land soon became a hallmark of this fragmented city.” (Bisky 2006) The urban landscape of today’s Berlin is not dense, but still very fragmented. Rather than one clearly defined city centre, the city has many smaller centres. What is more, the urban morphology is exceedingly heterogeneous; the city is pieced together of fragments from several historical layers. As early as in the 1920s the Dadaists were inspired by Berlin when they started developing the technique of photo collaging (Oswalt 2000). Today, real collages can be observed all over the city. A fragmented urban landscape has developed where colonial gardens can be found next to traditional Berliner blocks, end walls bear signs of disappeared neighbour buildings, large inner-city railway areas are left obsolete and overgrown, and the new main station is surrounded by voids without programme. Throughout history different ideologies have left their marks on the city web. The Berlin based architect Phillip Oswalt describes Berlin as a conglomerate of influences from a variety of ideologies and concepts, none of which were influential or long-lasting enough to establish a homogenous structure (Oswalt 2000). All of these are traces which tell stories about the city as a dynamic, “living organism”, stories about the “active processes of transformation, shrinking and development one finds in the city today." (Studio E.U)

“Many of the things that have happened here in Berlin over the last 15 years generally takes much longer – say 50 years or more – elsewhere.” (Ferguson 2006)

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III. Paradoxical expectations After the fall of the Wall, large inner city areas lay empty, and a heated public debate arose on possible future developments and strategies; hence how the future stories of the city could be told. The disjointed history of Berlin had apparently left the politicians longing for homogeneity and continuity, and in order to achieve this, the voids needed to be filled in a soon as possible. Thus, the “Planwerk Innenstadt” was developed, based on the ideal that “the “historical city” should be recovered” (Bisky 2006). The plans for the inner parts of the city had an image of “the European City” and “Critical Reconstruction” 1 as starting points. Basically, the strategy put forth to rebuild a dense city centre, primarily based on a block structure scheme. Today, physical manifestations of this strategy can be seen for instance in the reconstructed Potsdamer Platz and in the current plans for rebuilding the historical castle on the site of the former East German parliament. The fragmented cityscape called forth an urge to use an image of built space with the intention to create a traditional identity for Berlin (Huyssen 2005). However, at the same time, Berlin had recently regained its status as capital, and both inhabitants and politicians had great expectations of the “metropolis of the future” (Bisky 2006). Expectations ran high of how the capital would soon be home of six million people and become a “hub” connecting East and West (ibid.) The building of Berlin’s new main station in the middle of “no man’s” land reveals this optimistic belief in progress and growth. However, the voids surrounding it also show how the expectations of the 1990s regarding population growth and development have not come true. Instead, the population has declined and in addition an extensive suburbanisation has taken place. Phillip Oswalt has been one of the critics of the “Planwerk Innenstadt”. Among other things, he argues that the reconstruction strategy is based on nothing else than a construction of an image of a homogeneous city history which Berlin never had. Thus, the existing city is being rejected in the search of a new identity (Oswalt 2000). Oswalt continues to claim that what is missing can never be replaced by something which simulates history, and that these buildings do therefore not create the desired homogeneous image. Rather, they add yet another dimension to the conglomerate city. ”Die Simulation können das Fehlende nicht ersetzen, sondern nur auf das Vermisste verweisen. So wird in Berlin die Heterogenität der Stadt, die eigentlich kaschiert werden soll, um eine weitere Dimension bereichert" (Oswalt) It has also been argued that these politics have not led to the desired strengthening of a clear city centre. The new government buildings, the new main railway station and the redeveloped Potsdamer Platz formed an attempt to connect the existing centres. However, the projects have rather underlined the polycentrality by adding another centre to the existing ones (Oswalt 2000). Moreover, critics have argued that these new projects have “failed to project an image that Berliners could recognise” (Bisky 2006). In a paper for the Urban Age summit in Berlin in 2006, Bisky claims that these new developments have contributed further to the fragmentation of the city because the new representative centre does not intersect with the living space of the inhabitants. “More than ever, Berlin is a conglomeration of parallel worlds, a hotchpotch of stages on which long-established residents, newcomers and tourists make their respective entrances." (Bisky) IV. The value of the voids The many critical voices in the debate indicate that many of the urban development projects initiated by the planning authorities in Berlin after the reunification do not correspond with people’s perception of the realities of the city. Along these lines, it may be argued that the fragmented cityscape holds possibilities of its own, and that it is exactly the excitement in Berlin’s “crashes of realities” which makes the city unique. Indeed, the many disused buildings and empty spaces after the reunification have provided a breeding ground for subcultures and a rapidly emerging art scene. In no other place in Europe are such an amount of art galleries, around 400 in total, gathered in one city. Berlin is home to more than 300 independent fashion labels and several film- and television production companies. (Beier 2007). Considering the fact that many of these activities arose out of informal use of wasteland or temporary

1 The ”Planwerk Innenstadt was rewarded with the ”Deutscher Städtebaupreis” in 2006. (http://www.dasl.de/staedtebaupreis/?p=252)

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events in vacant buildings imply that the fragmented city has been one of the factors which have triggered this creative development. Due to the low cost of living and surplus of space, the city has become “a magnet internationally for young people with creative potential” (Overmeyer 2007). Thus, “this phenomenon – creative people with time on their hands, who innovatively develop the potential of surplus space – can be observed all over Berlin.” (ibid.); Beach volley ball courts and flea markets pop up at vacant sites, empty shop windows are filled with small independent design shops, and old industrial buildings become hosts for parties and events. The last years, the politicians too have started to recognise how this creative potential can be transformed into economic growth, and moreover that the creativity actually inherit a possible image building factor when it comes to attracting tourists as well as more “creatives” to the city. With the globalisation of the world the factors which make cities attractive have to some extent changed, and it has been set forth that “innovative entrepreneurial practices now operate as trademarks of cities` creativity, dynamism and innovative ability” (Bittner 2006). According to Regina Bittner, a researcher and cultural theorist teaching at the Bauhaus in Dessau, the “creatives” are attracted first and foremost by “cities` cultural heterogeneity, their ability to innovate and be tolerant.” Thus, promoting the creative development could be an opportunity to reach a high-profile location in the cities`global competition. (Overmeyer 2007) "Vacant sites and disused premises are not a constraint but a prerequisite of restructuring. They are the spaces of the future: a training ground and experimental zone for the future city." Ingeborg Junge-Reyer, senator for Urban Development, Berlin It seems the fragmentation which the authorities originally wanted to sweep away, and the empty spaces which had to be filled in, have proved to be of great value not only as an image building factor. Temporary use has even turned out to be “an important component of urban planning in Berlin” (Overmeyer 2007). Recent initiatives of the authorities to make the planning regulations more flexible and responsive to temporary use indicate that its potential energy has been noticed. In the end this means some kind of justification of the fragmented landscape which has “put Berlin firmly on the map in the European imagination and proves that, here at least, everything is possible and anything goes, no matter how limited your resources” (Bisky 2006). V. Reading between the lines Nevertheless, the potential of the inner-city voids of Berlin is not a recent discovery. Ever since the fall of the Berlin Wall there have been voices promoting their value and importance. Berlin tells its stories in its scars, the voids and the absence of built form contain more stories than the built. (Huyssen 2005). Already in 1992, Daniel Liebeskind suggested that the best way to deal with the void of the Wall was to preserve it as it was: “I suggest a wilderness, one kilometre long, within which everything can stay as it is. The street simply ends in the bushes. Wonderful.” (Daniel Liebeskind quoted in Huyssen 2005). A void so filled with history and memories would lie as a reminder, telling the story of the city with its emptiness. The Italian Architects IaN+ follow the same line of thoughts as they argue that the no man’s land was not only important in regard to the inhabitant’s feeling of belonging because it made “people more sensitive and aware of the image of their wounded, but living, city” (IaN+ 2006). What is more, it could in fact have had the capability to fulfil the longing for an identity and “become the new face of the city” (ibid.) "I had never realized so clearly before that there have to be places in cities that are not occupied, but that have to open up suddenly, like clearings in a wood. I like the word we have in German for clearing: "Lichtung", suggesting a place with bright clear light, as does the English "clearing". If you don`t have islands of light and disorder like this the city becomes overloaded, it becomes a closed system." Wim Wenders (Casu and Steingut 2006) With regards to open space within the city, film creator Wim Wenders has been one of those promoting this not only as a luxury and advantage, but as a necessity for cities. In Wim Wenders` film Himmel über Berlin, the old man Homer walks around in the void of the Berlin Wall, searching for the Potsdamer Platz he knew when he was young, however finding nothing but wasteland. Wenders suggests in an interview that Homer would have become even more surprised and confused if he had returned to the redeveloped Potsdamer Platz. Thus, in an empty space it was easier for him to recall his memories and reconstruct the former platz in his imagination (Casu and Steingut 2006). Wenders continues with comparing the function of empty and open spaces in a city to reading between the lines in a text: “…the empty spaces in the cities work like that as well. They encourage us to fill them up with ourselves" (ibid). Perhaps this points out the most crucial quality of empty space, that it is a space of

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opportunities, of future stories. Thus, these places trigger our imagination; encourage us to add our own stories to the city. Because where nothing exists, everything is possible. „Wo nichts ist, ist alles vorstellbar." Phillip Oswalt

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VI. References Beier, L et al. (2007): Grossstadt ohne Grössenwahn in Der Spiegel 12/2007 p.22-38 Bisky, J. (2006): "Berlin: A profile" in Towards an Urban Age, www.urban-age.net Bittner, R. (2006): “Life`s a beach. Fields of urban gravitation” in Arch+ nr.180 Convertible Cities pp.50-55 Casu A. and Steingut, I. (2006): "Wim Wenders, A sense of Place" in Arch+ nr.180 Convertible Cities pp.110-115 Huyssen, A. (2005): "The Voids of Berlin" in Future city, Read, S. et al. (ed.), London and New York: Spon Press. IaN+ (2006) "Emptiness" in Talking Cities: The Micropolitics of Urban Space, Ferguseon, F.(ed), Basel, Boston and Berlin: Birkhäuser Kniess, B. and Lagos, L. (2006): "The Cartography of Everyday Life" in Talking Cities: The Micropolitics of Urban Space, Ferguseon, F.(ed), Basel, Boston and Berlin: Birkhäuser Oswalt, P. (2000): Stadt ohne Form, München, London, New York: Prestel Overmeyer, K. (ed.) (2007): Urban Pioneers: Berlin: Stadtentwicklung durch Zwischennutzung, Berlin: Jovis Studio E.U. et al. (2006): "Berlin Wall(k)" in Talking Cities: The Micropolitics of Urban Space, Ferguseon, F.(ed), Basel, Boston and Berlin: Birkhäuser