Berlin clearly lived through one of its most bizarre periods during the Cold War. Bizarre, in that erecting a wall dividing a city into two parts, separating families and neighbours and setting them in opposing universes, is an Orwellian experience to say the least.

Each part of the city obviously developed in a very different way. On the one hand, East Berlin stagnated within a system based on obsessive control by the regime, a pattern shared by the rest of the communist bloc. West Berlin, for its part, evolved in similar fashion to the rest of the capitalist world.

West Berlin – From the Mecca of the Underground to Hedonistic House

From the seventies on, in line with the new trends in England and the United States, a new musical scene began to gain currency in Berlin, based on creative freedom and the aesthetic of a clean break with the past. Berlin became one of the leading centres of punk and all its subsequent ramifications. Their outsider and underground art culture sediment attracted performers of the calibre of David Bowie, Brian Eno, Keith Haring and Lou Reed throughout the seventies. By then, a good number of bands were feeding such exciting circuits as those of London and Sheffield.

At the end of the seventies, the music of Joy Division and dabblers in electronic and industrial music were adopted as icons of the flourishing alternative scene of an open Berlin. Unlike the British or American varieties, German post-punk was characterised by a tension between politics and culture and aesthetically owes much to krautrock, as many of its themes are endless repetitions at a heady pace, notably Geld/Money by the arty band, Malaria, or the early recordings of DAF.

As of 1980, the exciting Berlin scene was always on the move, spawning an inexhaustible string of bands like Einstürzende Neubauten– headed by the controversial Blixa Bargeld – Die Unbekannten, Nina Hagen, Die Krupps, Mekanik Destrüktiw Komandoh, Die Tödliche Doris, Geile Tiere and Die Arztewith their punk funk distinguished by sarcastic lyrics.True to say, the scene was not made up of musicians alone, but by film stars and directors, writers, philosophers, artists and photographers, too. By the mid-eighties a process of disintegration had set in. Music became ever more commercial and groups began to sign up with multinationals. However, it was not long before a new sound revolution arose which had a marked impact on the city – the advent of acid house and techno. Recall that Berlin’s Love Parade was the first mass parade of electronic music in the world. The first Love Parade was in 1989. The event started out as a clamour for peace and mutual understanding through music. Just a few months later, the Wall came down and West Berlin was consigned to history.

The legendary SO36 was still going strong at that time. The club, located on the Oranienstrasse near Heinrichplatz in the Kreuzberg district, took its name from the area’s famed postal code – SO36. The district of Kreuzberg is historically the home of Berlin punk, and of other alternative German subcultures. SO36 was initially dedicated mainly to punk music. As of 1979 it attempted a crossover between punk, new wave and visual art. In those days the club rivalled New York’s CBGB as one of the world’s leading new wave spots. Others on the Berlin circuit included Metropol, the disco, Kino, the club 54 Kantstrasse and the Sputnik alternative cinema, where the cult film Christiane F. premiered.

Period Document on the Big Screen

The 13th Beefeater In-Edit Festival will be held in Barcelona from 29 October to 8 November. Prominent among the many films to be shown is B-Movie: Lust & Sound in West-Berlin 1979-1989, a documentary directed by Jörg A. Hoppe, Heiko Lange and Klaus Maeck on music, art and chaos in the Wild West of Berlin in the decade of the 1980s, the walled city that became a creative crucible for a special type of pop subculture which attracted brilliant dilettantes and world-famous celebrities of all kinds. However, prior to the fall of the Iron Curtain, artists, squatters, poets, music creators and hedonists came together to enjoy a highly unconventional lifestyle in Berlin. They all knew it would be short-lived but, who’s worried about tomorrow? It was a case of living for the here and now.

Featuring mostly unreleased television material and original footage, photos and interviews, B-Movie chronicles life in a divided city, a cultural interzone where anything seemed possible – a place different from anywhere else in Europe. It is a fast-moving collage of stories about a frenzied but creative decade starting with punk and ending with the Love Parade, in a city where days are short and nights are interminable.

Berlin is currently experiencing a youthful resurgence in terms of cultural activity – and music, too! Why wait to discover it all? Check out our tickets here.

Text by ISABELYLUIS Comunicación

Images by B-Moviem, SO36

The techno splendour of Berlin in the nineties is unlikely to return. But, this does not prevent the German capital from oozing club culture. We’re guiris – you can see that from a mile away. We smile in the metro simply because we’re downing one of the umpteen exquisite beers you can easily buy in Berlin’s 24-hour stores, or in the metro itself, from the stands that have taken over the underground landings. We’re guiris and, as such, we soak up the city’s nightlife by living out all the dreams and half-truths handed down to us about the historic nineties in Berlin, of basement clubs and all-night parties. Our premise is straightforward – what remains of that club culture splendour in Berlin? We have just forty-eight hours to tune in to the techno beat of today.

It’s Friday, so the adventure begins. Like any decent racing car, the body requires breaking in. And no other European city has more – or better – excuses than Berlin to drink a beer drawn at the counter. Our first stop takes us to Hops & Barley, a tavern with as many types of frothy beverage as the likelihood of rain in that Teutonic country. Dim light, gridded floor and we’re hard put to find a bar stool. The ideal space for stretching exercises.

When one’s throat is sated with pilsen, it’s time to move on, and the metro is our best option. Berlin has a comprehensive network and trains run to 12.30 in the morning on weekdays and round the clock on weekends. Near the Ostkreuz metro station, in an area hemmed in by railway lines and studded with niches formed by twisted iron bars –– a surprise awaits us. In a fenced off work area a bonfire is burning, surrounded by a group of youngsters, a computer and loudspeakers playing techno full blast. Here, the “scouts” listen to catchy “bits”, an image far removed from that of youngsters in Spain, where they gather around a bonfire, guitar and songbook in hand. Open-air parties are a permanent fixture of Berlin – they know a thing or two about them in Rummelsburg.

With this good omen of the city’s techno DNA behind us, we head for a an illustrious nearby squatter’s venue, ://about blank, one of Berlin’s numerous self-managed centres. “Love techno, hate Germany”, it says on the door. The day’s programme is antifascist, for 12 euros. Inside, the dark, crowded cube that is ://about blank offers a heady experience – a tight space and many young Berliners with their eyes closed, swinging their heads about frantically to the music DJ’ed in vinyl. The inner patio is the place to chill out. They recommend we attend a festival called Homophätik, which we will likely check out on subsequent trips.

Berlin does not sit well with the idea of “on a human scale”, as it stretches across a vast territory. This means you have to make the right choices. As for the right days – Chalet is the ideal club for Wednesdays, while Renate is best for Thursdays. But, today is Friday and it’s past four in the morning. We decide to leave the great techno marathon for tomorrow.

Saturday dawns splendidly for a day in May – the sun sends powerful shafts of light into the inner courts created by the residential blocks strewn across Berlin’s terrain. In one of them, some girls are rehearsing a choreography. Next door, a boom box blasts out strains of ambient music.

For lunch – it’s amazing how quick noon sets in when you’ve been up in the wee hours – we are taken by a Sudanese restaurant on Reichenberger street. This is a small eatery with a one-dish menu of the day – for meat-eaters and vegans – at competitive prices. Before plunging into the night again, we spend the afternoon browsing intently through another of any music lover’s crown jewels in Berlin – the record shops.

While finding the stores is something of an achievement, The Record Loft poses a veritable quest. But, using up the few megabytes of your ISP’s European rates brings a reward. On the fourth floor above another of the aforementioned inner patios lies Hard Wax, accessed via a staircase with steps plastered with labels and magazines from all continents. Hard Wax is a small label specialised in electronic music. They also have a vinyl store. The afternoon is also a good time to dip into the bookshops in the Hackescher Markt.  Some have large techno sections, notably Do you read me?, which also boasts a selection of local fanzines. In fact, their bibliography of Berlin’s cultural construction is extensive, ranging from such titles as Future Days, from “early times”, to Krautrock and the Construction of Modern Germany, to works focusing on the nineties like Der Klang, der familie. There are also exclusive titles from Berlin itself, witness Berlin Sampler. From Cabaret to Techno. 1904-2012.

Once your hands are sore from leafing through boxes of vinyls and keying in the titles of upcoming releases, it’s time to head for one of the pre-party clubs. But, more about that in the next chapter.

Text by Yeray S. Iborra | Our thanks to Ángel Molina, Ana Riaza, Carlota Surós and Martí Renau for the first-hand information on the itinerary for this article.

Images by Los Viajes de ISABELYLUIS, Michael Mayer

Oran is still off the beaten tourist track, which makes it all the more appealing when it comes to planning a trip which avoids scheduled routines and well-worn tourist prototypes. During the French colonial period it was the capital of the Oran Department, and it is currently an important port city and commercial hub and boasts one of the leading universities in North Africa. Sunni Islam is the official State religion, although there are Christian and Jewish minority communities. A visa is required when travelling there.

The Spain Brand in Oran

The capital of western Algeria, Oran occupies a privileged, strategic location in the Mediterranean basin. It is regarded by Spaniards as the most Spanish city in Africa, given the wealth of Spanish vestiges still present right across the region. Indeed, traces of Spain linger in local culture, language and gastronomy. The Oranians eat cocas, a sausage similar to Spanish sobrasada, and claim to have invented the paella, a word derived from the Arabic baiya, consisting of rice and seafood. The city also sports a bullring – now in disuse – which was inaugurated in 1954.

In geographical terms, Oran is the point in Algeria closest to the Iberian peninsula and indeed, on a clear day, the city of Almería can be seen from Oran, or vice versa. Its privileged position has enabled it to build up all manner of land and maritime connections. Its bay opens to the north-east, while the western flank is dominated by the steep Aïdour mountain. The city lies sheltered between the old colonial city and the new developments, which lend it a more modern air. Not to be missed is a stroll down the seafront promenade with its delightful panoramic view of the harbour and the old city. From here you can walk to the interesting Pacha Mosque.

You should not pass over the occasion to visit the famous Santa Cruz Fort. Built atop a mountain adjacent to the city, where it has served as a faithful lookout for over four centuries, this is undoubtedly the masterpiece of Spanish military architecture in the city, and also houses the well-worth-seeing Chapel of the Virgin.

The Place de la Perle (or Plaza de Armas), once the centre of Oran, while the city was under Spanish rule, is another of the prime sightseeing spots. Together with the Spanish Gate, the Casbah, the Porte de Santon, the St Philip Garrison and the Tambour de San José, it is one of the best preserved places from that period, from the 16th to the 18th century. Most striking is this latter monument, due to its important role in the Spanish history of Oran. Radiating from there was a network of underground galleries which ran underneath the old citadel and connected the Qasr el-Bey (Bey Castle) to the Santa Cruz Fort.

Historical District

The old town features an alcazaba (citadel), a fortified urban enclosure built to house the governor’s residence, to defend a specific area and its surroundings and to garrison troops, making up a small military precinct. The cluster of buildings forming this citadel includes an 18th-century mosque.

The district of Sidi El Houari, the patron saint of the city, is the oldest in Oran. There are guided tours of the walls and tunnels dating from the Spanish period, the Spanish Gate, the Madrid Ramp, la Blanca, la Escalera, the Casbah, etc. In this historical district you can also see the old Saint-Louis school, and the Pacha Mosque, built during the 17th century. Before leaving Oran, make sure you visit the marabout or Moorish shrine of the city’s patron saint, Sidi El Houari and make a wish, as tradition dictates.

This district also houses some of the city’s most important museums. The Ahmed Zabana Museum, formerly known as the Demaeght Museum, has archaeological, ethnological and natural history collections from the Maghreb on display, as well as an exhibition area devoted to Oran. In the archaeology section, the Carthaginian and Roman collections take pride of place. The buildings date from 1933, while in 1986 the museum was taken over by the Ministry of Culture and renamed. It comprises seven sections focusing on Oran and its surrounding region – fine art, the Moudjahid, numismatics, pre-history, old Oran, ethnography and natural history. Another prominent museum is the Moudjahid, located in the USTO district, which is dedicated as a memorial to the struggle for independence during the Algerian War.

Discover one of the best kept secrets of the Mediterranean! Check out our prices here.

Text by ISABELYLUIS Comunicación

Photos by Algerian Embassy

John Waters shot to fame by directing outlandish, low-budget movies such as Pink Flamingos (1972) which glorify violence, sexual perversion and bad taste. He uses provocation as a weapon targeting the good-mannered hypocrisy, iron-fisted morals and religious values of the American way of life. However, few realise that the American dandy with a pencil moustache has also designed large-format collages and photomontages. He has chosen 40 of these pieces – including storyboards from his movies – for the exhibition, How Much Can You Take?, which runs until 1 November at the acclaimed Kunsthaus Zürich, coinciding with the murals by Joan Miró on display there until the end of January.

Paradoxically, the multifaceted filmmaker has other traits in common with Zürich, such as class, a sense of order and extreme cleanliness. Deep down, Waters also has a tenderness and fetishism that suggests he would delight in the bric-a-brac on sale in downtown Teddy’s Souvenir Shop, offering the music boxes, Swiss army knives, cowbells and cuckoo clocks so typical of Switzerland’s bucolic image. That same cliché embodied by Heidi, the children’s character created by the writer, Johanna Spyri who, like the poet, Gottfried Keller, is buried in the leafy park of Sihlfeld Cemetery, the first in Europe to incorporate a crematory. Waters would surely relish a visit there, both for his fascination for the macabre and his professed love of literature, which of late he is more engaged in than cinema. Hence, we might also recommend he visit Fluntern Cemetery, site of the beautiful tomb of James Joyce, who in Zürich gave himself over to a licentious alcoholism while writing much of Ulysses, a diatribe against Church and State. Another writer who also passed away in this city was the German author of The Magic Mountain, immortalised in the Thomas Mann Archives, a small museum housed in the ETH Zürich. This State university has also been graced by no fewer than twenty Nobel prizewinners, notably the scientist Albert Einstein, as much a rebel against conventional mores as Waters. Located in the same university is the spectacular Law Faculty Library, designed by the architect, Santiago Calatrava. However, the maker of morbid films would probably prefer to read in the old abbey housing the Zentralbibliothek Zürich, the city’s main library.

The filmmaker’s more iconoclastic side would relish the recollection that Zürich was the cradle of Dadaism, the anarchic “anti-art” so critical of middle-class society in World War I. That was when the artistic couple, Emmy Hennings and Hugo Ball, founded the celebrated Cabaret Voltaire in Niederdorf’s Old Town. Together with Tristan Tzara, the locale broke with all established canons. The building gradually became derelict until it was occupied in 2001 by a group of artivists and used to stage neo-Dadaist-style performances before vast crowds of Zurichers. After their eviction, the City Council overturned its original plan to demolish the building, which was then refurbished as an alternative cultural centre. Also located in the Old Town is the unusual Musée Visionnaire, where visitors choose what they want to see – and are encouraged to critique it – from a catalogue of Art Brut, a movement also known as Outsider Art – the work of amateurs, the mentally disabled and any creator alien to institutions and the boundaries set by official culture. In short, characters who would not be out of place among the Dreamlanders, counter-culture misfits and such regular collaborators of Waters as Mink Stole or Divine.

The young Waters who was so enthralled by gruesome accidents and bloodthirsty tales would also take a fancy to the Moulangenmuseum, a museum featuring wax representations of body parts twisted by disfiguring diseases, including exhibits in the University Hospital’s medical teaching collection dating from 1917. And, lured by the repulsive, he might also look up the dark oeuvre, biomechanical aesthetic and highly charged erotic sense of another illustrious native of Zürich who designed the visual effects for the movie, Alien – the recently deceased H.R. Giger. Although fans of the illustrator and sculptor have to choose between a visit to his comprehensive museum in the walled town of Gruyères (nearly two hours south of Zürich), and the stunning Giger Bar in his native Chur (about an hour’s drive from Zürich), situated, strangely enough, in the same land that inspired the pastoral Heidi.

To wind up this walk on the dark side, nothing better than supper at Blindekuh Zurich, the world’s first restaurant where diners eat in the pitch black. Fortunately, Waters is not the chef, so you needn’t worry about being served what Divine ate in Pink Flamingos. I assume you get my drift but, just to make sure, before you take the plunge you should go to a quality chocolaterie like Sprüngli.

In any event, remember that the Waters exhibition only lasts for a few more weeks, so get your tickets here!

Text by Carlos G. Vela para ISABELYLUIS Comunicación

Images by David Shankbone, Roland zh, Juerg Peter Hug, Absinthe, Edsel Little