The stars look very different...

 

David Bowie’s death on 10^th January was one of those events that make the world seem a very different place afterwards.

Two days earlier, on Friday 8^th January, Bowie celebrated his 69^th birthday by releasing an album called ‘Blackstar’.  It was a fine start to the eventful weekend I had planned. That afternoon I travelled down to Shakespeare and Sons on Warschauer Strasse to meet a friend I’d been corresponding with since last autumn when he sent me a copy of his self-published novel to review.  We spent the afternoon discussing our writing and our sources of inspiration. My friend said that the idea for his novel had begun to ferment as he listened to the music of Depeche Mode and wanted to produce a story with a soundtrack. We also talked about the role that Berlin plays in fostering creative activity. Neither of us knows for certain how long we will be here for and we both feel that leaving the city would have a detrimental effect on our productivity. 

That evening Alan and I met a couple of friends at a pizza restaurant in Prenzlauer Berg and I had what is probably my most surreal Berlin experience to date (edging out last summer’s Jarvis Cocker chocolate cake incident) when I walked in and spotted Blixa Bargeld tapping out an imaginary tune on a table-top while waiting for his takeaway order. It provided us with the perfect excuse to spend much of the next day listening to Einstürzende Neubauten.

On Sunday 10^th we attended the Luxemburg-Liebknecht-Lenin Demo in Friedrichshain, walking the two kilometres from Frankfurter Tor to the Socialist Memorial in Lichtenberg.  In the evening we decided to stay in and listen to music. I played a couple of Bowie tracks and we spoke briefly about him, about his music and his influence.  I remember entertaining a fleeting anxiety about him based on nothing more than his age (I’d played a Velvet Underground track and thought of Lou Reed, who died the weekend we moved to Berlin, at the age of 71. The music world had also recently lost Lemmy, aged just 70).  In the morning of course, I awoke to the news that Bowie had died.  

My first thought was to send a message to my old friend Ian. Although I’ve hardly seen him during the last thirty years, I still think of him every time I hear an early Bowie track.  Ian was the first friend I ever made when, at the age of three, we became next-door neighbours.  When we were kids he was obsessed by Bowie and was forever singing ‘Starman’.  As teenagers, while I listened to Abba, he bought albums by The Beatles and Kraftwerk and tried his best to broaden my musical horizons. We spent much of that day reminiscing via Facebook messages about our childhood escapades, including an adventurous bus trip to Derby as twelve-year-olds to buy The Beach Boys’ ‘Good Vibrations’.  It was only during the 80s when I went through a phase of listening to little more than Bowie’s ‘Space Oddity’ album that I began to fully appreciate his talent.

I also exchanged messages that day with my friend Abby who, the previous Friday, had toasted Bowie's birthday by raising a glass in front of the poster on her wall - the iconic white face with lightning-bolt make-up.

Many music business deaths have occurred in shocking or sensational circumstances. I was sad when Amy Winehouse died and stunned by the murder of John Lennon. But I genuinely grieved – am still grieving – over Bowie's gentle passing. It’s possible that being in Berlin has something to do with it; Bowie is loved here. His productive (and redemptive) stay in 1976-78 is legendary.  Shortly after the news broke on Monday morning, candles and floral tributes began to accumulate around the doorway of Hauptstrasse 155, where Bowie had shared a flat with Iggy Pop.  His death was the top story on the German news channels.  One politician even credited him with bringing down the Berlin Wall, such is his reputation in the city’s pantheon of ‘Heroes’.

On Saturday, under a brooding sky, we made the journey over to Hauptstrasse to pay our respects. It’s an unassuming, nondescript street and I’d only been there once before, having incorporated a visit to Bowie's former address into a walk which included the Winterfeldplatz Market and the Kleistpark. It was incredibly moving to see the entrance to what is now a dental surgery festooned with flowers, flickering candles, and messages from mourning fans.

 

There is talk of renaming Hauptstrasse ‘David Bowie Strasse’ in his honour.  I hope it happens.

The shock of the new

 

A wintry Prenzlauer Allee

I always find it a bit of a shock when the first ‘normal’ day of the year comes around, the decorations are taken down and the season of goodwill finally comes to an end.  I love the festive period and in Berlin it feels extra special to me, from the last week in November when the Christmas markets open until the mayhem of New Year’s Eve.

Our seasonal preparations began the day the markets opened when we travelled to Poland with a couple of friends, catching a train from Alexanderplatz for the hour-long journey to Frankfurt (Oder).  We walked through the town and across the river to Slubice where the shops were stocked with Christmas treats.  It was midday when we arrived so we settled in for a long, lazy lunch in the Ramzes restaurant.  On the ground floor of a hotel, the restaurant has an Egyptian theme but an international menu with gigantic portions.  A starter of bruschetta was enough for three of us and the fish burger main course I’d ordered came with two burgers and a mountain of chips.  By the time we left it was already beginning to get dark so, warmed by the couple of bottles of Rioja we’d drunk, we gravitated towards the shops where we stocked up with vodka, sausages, lebkuchen, and smoked cheese.  The falling snow as we walked back over the river gave the evening an atmospheric ‘Cold War’ feel, and provided the perfect ending to a memorable day. Back at Alexanderplatz, the market was in full swing but we were sleepy from travelling and a heavy lunch so we took the tram home.

I then had a couple of insanely busy weeks completing batches of writing for the travel website.  Once the last batch had been submitted, I made the dreaded trip to the Finanzamt to apply for my freelance tax number.  In the event the two members of staff who dealt with my application were friendly and helpful and I left feeling very upbeat and ready to devote myself to Christmas-related activities (visiting the markets, shopping for gifts, and decorating the flat).

 

The Lucia Weihnachtsmarkt in the Kulturbrauerei

 

On the second Sunday of the month we went to see a film called Mietrebellen (Rent Rebels) in Karl Liebknecht Haus, the headquarters of Die Linke.  We’d heard about it through a Facebook group called Linke International, for Berlin-based Ausländer of a left-wing persuasion.  The film began by highlighting the case of a 67-year-old woman who had been forcibly evicted from her flat and died two days later of cold.  It then followed the activities of various tenants’ rights groups as they protested against rent increases and attempted to disrupt forced evictions.  After the screening there was a discussion with one of the filmmakers, Matthias Coers who rejected the gentrification argument, blaming property speculators for Berlin’s current housing problems.

The following evening I met up with some of the group again at the Berliner Ensemble to see the legendary Nina Hagen singing the songs of Bertolt Brecht.  I’d never seen a performance here, even though I’d visited the theatre the very first time I came to Berlin, so it was a long overdue experience.  We met before the concert in the Kantine just behind the theatre.  It’s a basement café which resembles a social club but with a theatrical clientele (standing next to me at the bar was an actor I’ve seen in a couple of German TV programmes, including Tatort).  Inside the theatre, images of Brecht were projected onto a screen over the stage and Hagen performed her own musical arrangements of his poetry over two hour-long sets.

On the last Sunday before the holidays we caught up with our friends Abby and Albert at a festive edition of the Breakfast and Vinyl Market at Markthalle Neun.  We had drinks and tapas before settling in at the bar in the corner to listen to the music and enjoy an excellent Bloody Mary. Two days later we flew to England to spend a cosy Christmas at my sister’s house, returning in time for a New Year’s Eve party with friends at the Mauersegler. 

 

Christmas Lunch

 

Now it’s all over, the stollen has been eaten and the streets are full of discarded Christmas trees, I’d like to wish everyone einen guten Rutsch ( a good ‘slide’ into the new year). Happy 2016!