I haven’t blogged for a while, as I’ve been a bit busy doing an intensive language course, going to Berlinale stuff, making new chums and helping out with some projects, you know how it is. Too many excuses already, so here’s a short post.
It’s slightly Berlinale related in fact, as I was on my way to see a film at the Hamburger Bahnhof, and a curious thing caught my eye as I walked across from the still-desolate area immediately to the east.
I must apologise for the photo quality by the way. The fact that I only had my phone on me is not such a good excuse these days, as phones can have half decent cameras, but there it is; I’m a cheapskate. Ironically, someone left a message on my previous post admiring the image quality and asking what camera I used. The images below demonstrate perhaps that I use an old cardboard box with a pinhole in it.
It’s good, isn’t it? (The construction, not the image, obviously.) I think basically it’s a corridor for transferring items from the main gallery spaces to the storage shed across the road. But what a cool way of achieving a mundane task; it’s just so… suspended.
Here’s a much better image, beautiful in fact, by someone else (A. Zerche – take a stroll round his/her collection, there’s some good stuff).
This me again below, can you tell?
Anyway, behind it, or underneath it, you can just make out a second interesting thing. It looks at first glance like a small ruined building (not a rarity in Berlin, although ruined buildings here tend to be on the larger side). On closer inspection you realise that it never was a building, but something part built then semi-demolished to give the impression of a ruined building. It’s an installation.
You would probably not have walked past the sign as I did. It says this:
…an ironic dialogue with the surrounding area. And I do like a spot of architectonic sculpture. A closer look:
All for now, although worth mentioning that a have a whole backlog of images and stuff that I will get on the blog sooner or later, including lots more arcane buildings from the IBA, for those IBA junkies out there. Weirdos.