Like every Sunday, yesterday we hauled our table and totes up to Mauerpark. I thought that the hot, sunny weather would make for a productive day. But it also makes for a very sweaty and thirsty 8-hour market day, especially without the shelter of an awning or beach umbrella. We consumed enough sun the day before, when we took the train to the beach at Wannsee. (A one-hour ride from Kreuzberg. S-Bahn lines 1 and 7 stop at Nikolassee, from there it's just a half-mile walk to the beach. Entry costs 4€ for adults, 2,50€ for students.) Wannsee is one of the bigger lakes in the Berlin area even though it stays quite shallow. Dozens of sailboats tacked and jibbed their way across the greater part of the lake. The beach boasts volleyball courts, beach trampolines, giant chessboards and (our favorite) a waterslide. For those wanting a proper European beach experience, there is also a nudist section. The food is cheap, the beach, hot and the water, cool.
Friday was the closing day of the Urban Affairs: Extended, a large exhibition of some of the world's best urban artists, most notably El Bocho, Alias and Banksy. Although Philadelphia is attributed as being the birthplace of modern graffiti, Berlin has the right to claim itself the center of contemporary street art (think graffiti, stenciling, postering). I found the exhibition fascinating for the very fact that it was a professionally-executed art exhibition. The work was great, it was carefully curated, there were videos and interactive displays, and a gift shop sold streetwear, stencils and prints. It was put up in the Stadtbad Wedding, a public swimming hall that was closed down in 2002 and has since been hosting art exhibitions, concerts and parties, each event leaving behind an increasing number of broken tiles and pipes and fewer of the pool's original signs. This past winter the Grand Palais in Paris also hosted an urban art exhibition, thus legitimizing graffiti as fine art. I am curious to know how these artists feel about this fact. I'm sure they love the recognition (even if they only receive it under their pseudonym) and the money probably doesn't hurt. But I imagine that what brought these artists out late at night, sneaking around city streets and scaling walls in black hoodies, had more to do with the thrill of doing something illegal, engaging in an energetic and artistic rebellion. When the governments they were protesting begin to pay them to exhibit their work, or when art critics respond approvingly, does this thrill wear off? These artists are undeniably real artists -- they understand composition and color and can handle paint better than any art student I've ever met. Their subject matter is usually intelligent, critical, even witty. When it's not, it still passes as above-average graphic design. I hold an enormous amount of respect for these artists. It doesn't matter if anyone ever sees their work. They understand that their medium is very short-lived -- weather, city clean-up crews or even other artists can destroy hours' worth of work in a matter of minutes. And many of the murals just blow the sponsored contemporary art I've recently seen out of their art houses and galleries.
The best gallery show we've seen this summer was at the Lucas Carrieri gallery, a post-graffiti art collective in Mitte. Eron, an Italian street artist, creates realist portraits and landscapes using spray paint. Ebon Heath is a graphic (and more) artist based out of Brooklyn. He works with three-dimensional script.
My interest in contemporary art for the past couple of years has been directed at the rather vague "new media" and its computerized, interactive installations, but I made it a point earlier this year to start paying attention to and learning about contemporary painting. So soon after redirecting my attention, I'm faced with a new term to contemplate: post-graffiti.
