Dresden - last day with group

We spent Tuesday in Dresden. As most of you know, Dresden was a jewel of a city before the Allies bombed it in WWII. The intense heat created a firestorm that sucked the air out of underground shelters, killing thousands of people (many of them women and children who had flocked to a supposedly safe haven). The bombing raid also destroyed most of Dresden’s magnificent buildings, such as the Frauenkirche (Church of Our Lady). It is only recently that some of these treasures – belonging not only to the Germans or even the Europeans, but everyone – have been restored to something of their former glory.

Our first stop after the 2.5-hr. bus ride from Berlin was the Neue Synagogue. The original was not destroyed in the Allied bombing but on Nov. 9, 1938: on Kristallnacht. On that night, many Jewish buildings (residences, shops, and houses of worship) across Germany took the brunt of growing aggression – a taste of far more brutal crackdowns to come.

The replacement synagogue is basically a box, a well-designed and constructed but uninspiring box barely 10 years old. While I liked the high ceiling (a deliberate choice by the architect when he learned that the Dresden city planners wouldn’t let him build on the entire original site – more narrow and up was okay), I did not find that its other features suggested a house of worship, shall we say.

In the adjoining community center, we met with Michael Hurshell, the artistic director of the The New Jewish Chamber Philharmonic, Dresden. He explained how he ended up in Dresden after being born and raised in Seattle, and why his orchestra plays work by Jewish composers, many of whom have slid into undeserved obscurity since the turbulent first few decades of the 20^th century. Music has no borders, he implied. It has the power to bring people together instead of underscoring their differences. Very uplifting to hear this!

In our remaining time, under gloomy skies, we had a quick look through the art gallery, where Raphael’s most famous Madonna had been on display since early May. I can’t remember running through a gallery like that before! We were really under the eye of the clock. As the Lucas Cranach “Adam and Eve” was in the vault, and I could see only a few other German and Flemish works, I think I could have given the gallery a pass. Anyone with a penchant for Italian religious art would have been begging to stay another two hours! I have lost any taste for that – or perhaps I feel fonder of German art because, well, I’m in Germany.

As the cool day seemed to get even cooler, we visited the Frauenkirche, then decided to have Kaffee und Kuchen in a tearoom before heading back to Berlin earlier than planned. I had a hot chocolate that really woke me up, while the rest of the group sampled the tortes. (I’d had enough yummy cake at lunch, at the synagogue, after vegetarian couscous.)

We returned to Berlin around 8:00, as the sky cleared a bit, and ate (much later) at a fancy place called Oxymoron. Tired of pasta – about the only veg option at most fancy places – I had potatoes and white asparagus, period. They actually hit the spot

A bunch of us said our good-byes outside the hotel, and thanked Naomi for all her expertise, patience, good humor, and kindness. We will never forget this trip, much of it thanks to her.

My first Red Carpet!

 Yesterday, we met later than usual and went right to lunch, where we discussed Jewish life in Berlin with Dr. Juliana Wechsler. We ate at the Savoy Hotel restaurant!
I had another disappointing meal, since I wanted neither of the two specials: veal or pasta. I had eaten well for breakfast, so I settled on a bowl of fresh strawberries and whipped cream and I was fine.
Here's the red-red-red decor there: it matched my dessert/meal!


We then hopped on the bus and headed to Wannsee, site of the infamous Wannsee Conference. (For those who need their memories tweaked: that was when the Final Solution had its initial design and strategy discussed and plotted out.) We had a another excellent tour guide who showed us barely a tip of the iceberg called the Holocaust, yet we left having learned something (in my case, quite a bit).
From there, about half of us went to Potsdam, which is basically an extension of Berlin; indeed, many busses go there from downtown. We didn't see the magnificent Sans Souci Palace - one-time home of Frederick the Great - but after eating on a boat-restaurant, we went to a film premiere and saw the paparazzi shoot the red carpet! There were only a few "celebrities," including the director (see last week's visit to the Goethe Institute). But it was still wild!

The film fest: "More Jews in Cinema."

The film in question was a documentary film about Max Raabe, a modern crooner in the style of the 1920s and 30s Berlin. Many of his songs were composed by Jews. He is a blond German gentile. The film followed him and his Palast Orchester to Israel.As can be imagined, emotions ran high. (His trip was a success, btw.)
The highlight was when Raabe and his musicians, guests of the premiere, got on stage in their ties and tails and sang "Auf Wiedersain," a very poignant song from a bygone era.
Another magical evening!!!

Berlin: Green City

Another cool, rainy day in Berlin yesterday – like so many other places, we hear.

I went looking for a phone card again. I finally found one at Western Union in the main station, came back looking for our group, then found out that this time I’d not gotten lost: I had been given the wrong directions, by someone who shall remain unnamed. :)

So I rested in the hotel room, did some work on the laptop, then called my mother at home as she was packing for her own trip – to Edinburgh, with my brother, for her niece's highland wedding. She was very glad to hear things are going well so far.

I spent the rest of the afternoon – in the rain – walking to the Brandenburg Gates (30 min.) and strolling among the many and varied displays at the Environmental Fair! What luck that it should be on my Sunday off.

Tiergarten during a rain

International Year of the Forest

Berlin is a very green city in a highly eco-conscious country. I would say the ease with which the populace has embraced efficient and widespread recycling is an extension of the civic pride I noted in Germans as long ago as the 1980s. But I am less able to explain the devotion to literal green: huge areas of forest and parkland (the Tiergarten alone must be twice as large as Central Park – and there are many other tree-dense parks throughout). An what about the (gradual) switch from being stereotypically meat-centric to more truly omnivorous? Perhaps this arises from the apparent genetic propensity for philosophical thinking - a constant questioning of even the most dearly held assumptions. I wish other countries were as willing to do the same!
You may have heard that Germany was one of the first countries with a nuclear industry to react to the Fukishima nuclear disaster that followed the March 2011 tsunami. At the Environmental Fair, the decades-old no-nuke movement was very much in evidence, with a subtle nod to Japan. 

The fair also featured info booths on apiculture (beekeeping), crafts of various kinds, and lots of food! I noted with pleasure that the vegan burgers were sold out! Elsewhere, people lined up for organic (“bio”) beef, pork and chicken sausages.

Health, the animals, and the environment: reasons to go veg.

After a quick supper right beside the hotel, Naomi took the group to the Berlin Philharmonic! Eddie and I sat together almost in the middle of the first balcony. The hall was very impressive - built in the 1960s, and very much in the style of the day. The music, Beethoven's Missa Solemnis, was fantastic. I actually cannot recall ever hearing it before, so this was quite the introduction. Excellent orchestra, choir and soloists, superb conductor, and very good seats from which to enjoy it all. Another memorable evening on my trip to Berlin.

Hall of the Berlin Philharmonic (on a sunny afternoon)

Der Kunst (Art)

We had the day off for shabbat yesterday. Eddie and I spent the morning together, walking down Oranienbergerstr. in the other direction (not towards the happening street called Friedrichstr.) for a change. There are plenty of lovely shops - no chains that I could see - around Rosenthalerstr. I found an eco store - Der Grüne Erde (The Green Earth) - full of organic cotton and linen. I was in heaven. Alas, as I have restrictions on both spending and on weight, I had to restrain myself when confronted with their excellent sale. I bought two very lightweight and moderately priced items, and put back the towel. Maybe I will get one in the branch in Cologne next week.
I spent the afternoon alone, near the most repellent part of Berlin I have thus far encountered: Potsdamer Platz. It's like Piccadilly Circus without the flashing signs. Very wide spaces, tall buildings, crass ads here and there, and very, very noisy. (I was too rattled to take an illustrative photo.)
Luckily, the art museum cluster called Kulturforum sat a few (quieter) blocks away. For the modest sum of 8 euros, I was able to enjoy three museums - and could have added a fourth (musical instrument museum)! I visited the old masters (e.g., Lucas Cranach the elder) in the Gemäldergalerie first, then saw an exhibit at the Kumpfstichkabinett - prints and drawings - and finally I went a short way across the plaza to the Neue nationalgallerie, which is full of post-war art.
I liked many of the old masters - though I admit when you've seen one Italian Renaissance Madonna and Child, you've pretty well seen them all. (Raphael and Botticelli perhaps being notable exceptions). I had already seen the Piranesi prints - a series called "Imaginary Prisons" - and the Goya "Caprichos" (including the famous "the sleep of reason brings forth monsters"). I was very disappointed to find out that the study room was closed because it was Saturday! I will have to make time to return on a weekday. What other chance will I ever have to see a Durer etching close up?

Here's one bizarre Madonna and Child: note the unbabylike Jesus.... 
The modern art made me slightly ill. Some paintings done in 1947 and later looked like the work of asylum patients, no offence to them. The anger, terror, confusion, and despair of the war became translated into erratic brushstrokes and incoherent imagery, often in black or muddy colors. Very disturbing - but perhaps that was the real message: I cannot paint properly because I barely survived hell.
Today we will be out late - at the Berlin Philharmonic!! - and up early tomorrow, so may have to post later than usual.

Heaven in a rage

Finally made it to the zoo yesterday.
I walked for almost three hours. Sometimes it was tough to look at some of the animals, even for a moment, let alone longer, contemplatively. I learned my lesson in Washington last year and avoided the gorillas. (Long story.) But the pacing panther made me think of Rilke (he wrote my favorite poem about that very beast).
I tried to take a photo of the giant panda early on in my walk, but he had his back to me. I took it anyway, and as I saw more animals with their backs to the onlookers, I saw that I had a photo essay in the making. I will make it available some time in the future.

Here are two of the cats I saw.

Sand cat

Jaguar

"A robin redbreast in a cage/puts all of heaven in a rage," said William Blake. I wonder what he would have thought of large or even small carnivores being cooped up like these are in Berlin - and in countless places around the so-called modern world.

Sand cat

Pathetic fallacy (2)

I had a very stressful morning yesterday. Too much to get into here but it involved trying to get to the Berlin Zoo on my own (while the group continued its tour with Naomi) and being confounded by language barriers and nonintuitive transportation systems. I went to Alexanderplatz instead (in the opposite direction) and shopped in a department store. I am ashamed, actually, that it came to that, but at some point one has to accept the road that throws itself ahead. Walk on it and see what happens! It wasn't all that bad for another gloomy day.
I managed to arrive at the meeting point at the designated time or a little ahead. This is an experience for the phone - if anyone is interested - or maybe an essay I can write after much reflection.
We went to a place called The topography of Terror, where we were given "a tour." That's the word, but it is clearly inadequate for what transpired.
The T of T is a modern grey building, kind of ugly actually. Where it is situated is far uglier: the former site of the Gestapo headquarters. Sebastian, our guide, an intense fellow in his mid- to late thirties, was a former mathematics and philosophy student. (He was sketchy about why he ended up, essentially, telling people horror stories for a living.) Day in and day out, he tries to show people how and why the Final Solution took place as a human enterprise, a project like building a bridge or eradicating smallpox (those are my comparisons, btw). It is the big question, isn't it" how can people systematically impose horrors on others?

For the next 60-70 min., Sebastian skimmed the surface of this terror as perpetrated by the SS. It was one of the most rivetting experiences I've ever had with a stranger. I would definitely say that his philosophy background was quite evident.

Eddie agreed that we could have stood there, looking at old photographs and documents, and listening to Sebastian for hours, sore legs or no sore legs. He was talking about things we don'tlike to hold in the mind for very long, but he did so very provocatively and engagingly (at least to us). I will never forget that hour, even if - inevitably - I will forget most of what he said.

As we were leaving, I took this picture of a small section of the wall that once divided East & West Germany. The previous photo shows the outdoor exhibit alongside a remaining length of it.

Pathetic fallacy (1)

Couldn’t post yesterday: internet problems!

Wed. was our first full day of touring Jewish sites.

We spent the entire morning at Sachsenhausen concentration camp, about an hour’s drive from the middle of Berlin. The weather was bleak, windy, and frankly chilly. If you remember high school English, you’ll know this could be called an instance of pathetic fallacy: weather matching or echoing emotional states.

No doubt about it, it was a dreary place. We walked through the museum and open areas with our incredibly well informed and personable guide, historian Dr. Robert Sommer. We took in the ruins of the execution areas (interior and exterior), the offices, barracks, and memorials to the hundreds of victims (of executions, but more often of hunger and disease). Wide fields separated everything. (I, of course, made note of the wild flowers growing there.) Pine forests surrounded it all. 

Dr. Sommer showed us how the East Germans took one point of view when they memorialized the victims, while the West Germans, after unification, took quite another. (The camp is in the former GDR.) It’s too much to get into here – and I have yet to process my notes – but this appeared to me to be something you would not likely learn elsewhere. This and many other things he said. Nothing quite like a well-informed guide to make the difference between a mere tour and a rivetting mini-seminar.

We drove back in various states of silence. Nobody had been surprised by Sachsenhausen – as in, not ready for the sight of a huge place for processing and eliminating human beings – yet “psyching” yourself up for it was one thing. Being there, walking among the one-time barracks, was quite another.

We drove to the large street nicknamed Ku’damm: very posh, with familiar stores and German boutiques. Much to my surprise, anyway, Naomi led us inside an extremely fancy restaurant that dated from at least the beginning of the last century. It’s called Kampinski’s and it’s part of a swanky hotel. We weren’t even dressed in our best! I ordered vegetarian lasagna – there was nothing much else to order without fish, beast, or bird in the starring role (the Germans do love “fleisch”). Here’s a photo of my dish before I devoured it. It was perhaps the most delicious lasagna I’d ever tasted. 

We met with another knowledgeable person, this time at the Jewish community center. She told us about the Jews returning to Berlin over the years, and how the community receives them. Many were Russians for a long time, but in recent years, the influx from the former soviet states has all but dried up. The old community center was all but destroyed years ago, but the new one has incoporated the remains of the former glory at the entrance.

Afterwards, we headed by bus to the Goethe Institute, the organization that is sponsoring this trip. We met a film maker named Nicola Gelliner, and watched a film from her recent festival – at least we did until technical difficulties stopped the DVD from functioning!

After that, supper at a lovely Thai restaurant, then back to the hotel for blog etc.