I’m not sure there are any people in the world who have a
stranger sense of fashion than the Germans. Who else would think it appropriate
to wear dark mint green trousers with a light mint green shirt? Or yellow trousers with a purplish-blue
shirt? Or pinkish-red trousers with a
reddish-pink shirt? I saw all of those
in Berlin in the course of just 24 hours.
Germany is the only place where my lack of a fashion gene is not social
hindrance.
When I checked the weather this morning it said it would be
warmer than yesterday; in fact, today was the coldest day of the trip. I wore shorts and a t-shirt and was nearly
cold. In fact, I put on long pants and
wore a windbreaker when I went to dinner tonight (though I really didn’t need
the jacket). The sky was a deep blue,
broken up by occasional clouds driven by a strong breeze.
There’s still tons of pollen, though. I had a fit of coughing last night and then
remembered I had forgotten to take my allergy pill. It only helps so much, so I went to the
pharmacy this afternoon and explained I needed something against coughing. “A dry cough or” and then she said something
I didn’t understand but pantomimed something coming up from the lungs. “Dry,” I said, “dry, dry.” She went into the back and brought me small
box containing 22 mg Dextromethorphan pills and told me to take one every six
hours and not more than four a day. They
worked really fast.
This morning I headed back to the Bundesarchive in
Lichterfeld. A few months ago, the files
that I examined in hard copy two years ago were microfilmed, so I headed down
to the microfilm room. They handed me two rolls and I found an empty machine
with a printer and then faced the task of putting on the microfilm. I’ve been using microfilm machines for over two
decades now, but it seems that no two are ever the same. Each one has their own unique way of putting
the film on the roller. I ended up
calling the clerk over and I watched her struggle and struggle to put it
on. While that made me feel like less of
an idiot, I could see the researcher near me also needed help and was glaring
at me for monopolizing the clerk.
Eventually, the clerk figured out how to do it but then seemed perplexed
by how to properly frame the images so they were level. Eventually she gave up and went over to the
other woman.
I figured out how to right the image in about a minute and started
going through the roll and quickly found the material I wanted. I decided to print them out, but when I hit
the print button nothing happened. I
think I ended up hitting every button on the microfilm machine and printer in
the hope of getting it to work. No
luck. I looked for the clerk, but she
had her hands full with the other researcher, who had somehow managed to
unspool several yards of microfilm, and was now trying to roll it back up and
move to another machine. As the clerk
was walking by I tried to ask her but the other researcher glared at me and
said “in a moment.” I went back to the
roll and just started copying things out by hand, just in case I couldn’t get
it to print.
Eventually, I was able to flag down the clerk who tried
pushing many of the same buttons I had already pushed. None of them worked. She left to handle another researcher and I
began to wonder if this clerk had ever worked in the microfilm room
before. Eventually, I flagged her down
again and after a few minutes, she found the problem: the power button to the printer was “off”
(but located in the back of the printer, at the very bottom, where no one would
ever see it). Once it was “on,”
everything worked fine.
By noon, I had everything I wanted and was on my way. My plan was to visit the Brücke Museum in
Dahlem. I’ve been several times, but I
wasn’t able to go two years ago as they were closed while setting up a new
exhibition. It wasn’t that far from
Lichterfeld, so I thought I might as well visit it while I’m in the area.
First, though, I stopped for lunch in Zahlendorf when I
changed buses. I went into a little shop and asked for “ein belegtes Brot mit
Salami, bitte” (a salami sandwich), but the clerk said in a slight huff “es ist
ein Panini.” “Entschuldigung,” I replied, “die Panini bitte.” It wasn’t bad, but a sandwich would have been
better.
After another coughing spasm (I hadn’t gotten my medication
yet), I stopped nearby for a large café au lait and a slice of cheesecake (it
is Shavuot today) and read my book.
Then it was off to the museum. I had mapped it out, but oy, was google maps
off course. Luckily, I still found it.
I think I first fell in love with Die Brücke art movement
when I saw the Merzbacher Collection in 1999 at the Israel Museum. Among the artists who really blew me away was
Emil Nolde. I since learned that he was
an anti-Semite and a Nazi (though persecuted by the regime for being a
degenerate artist). They had several of
his pieces on display, and one of them was my favorite painting I saw today.
It’s called “The Hunter’s House (in Alsen)" and was painted
in 1909. Nolde’s thick brush strokes, in
which underlying colors smear through, creates an intense vibrant scene. Like his red poppies I had seen in 1999, no
photograph can really capture how they look in life. As the clouds raced over the sun, the
painting was alternatingly in shadow and light, highlighting the rough texture
of the layered paint.
Some other intense paintings I enjoyed were Nolde’s portrait
of “Herr Sch.” (1915):
Erich Heckel’s “Shell-Shocked Soldier” (1916):
Ernst
Ludwig Kirchner’s “Portrait of Edwin Redslob” (1924):
I took a short nap this afternoon and then went to a coffee
house to translate the material I copied at the archives. For dinner, I decided to try the new Chinese
restaurant my pension has every evening.
I had relatively low expectations, but I decided to order the crispy
duck with sweet and sour sauce. I was
amazed how good it was. No fat on the
duck, but lots of crispy skin. To keep
the skin crispy, the sauce was on the side.
Some of the best Chinese duck I’ve ever had.
After dinner, I went for a walk for nearly an hour, then
headed back to finish translating the memos I found in the archives. Not sure entirely what to make of them, but
they show a flurry of activity in April 1942, while making reference to a Balz’s
file, which does not appear to have survived.
Kind of frustrating, actually, with the most critical document, which
references a conversation with Goebbels about Balz (which Goebbels does not mention
in his Diary) is undated! According to Goebbels, Balz should not be permitted
to return to broadcasting, but no further steps should be taken against him.
However, the memo number leads me to think it’s from April 1942 (not that I’m
anywhere close to being an expert on how the Nazi bureaucracy numbered its
memos). Even more confusing is the
handwritten note in English written at the bottom of the memo date 1946, years
after the original memo was prepared, indicating that the Allied security
services have permitted Balz to return to work.
Tomorrow, I’ll try to figure out what to with this
stuff. I’m hoping the material I see at
the Film Archive on Friday will help sort this out. In the meantime, I intend do some laundry in
the morning before visiting the Berlinesche Galerie in Kreuzberg. Tomorrow night, I’m seeing Berlioz’s Damnation
of Faust in West Berlin.