Long and short pieces about visiting museums and galleries in Berlin, Germany, and wherever I happen to be (Brussels, Stockhom, Bologna, Vienna, Magdeburg, Dresden, Paris, Valenciennes, Düsseldorf, Potsdam, Wrocław, Krakow, Prague, Budapest, Timișoara, Leipzig, London, Oldenburg, Wuppertal, Naarm / Melbourne, Guangzhou). Accompanied by huge numbers of photographs of the works. Original photos (raw) or edited (tif) available for art historians and whoever, email me.
A list of all the 200+ Museums posts and museum-centric posts, containing several thousand images, for helpful archiving:
This is one of the better maps of the actual border of West Berlin, 1:50000 scale and traces a few parts I hadn’t seen so clearly before. Like West Berlin’s exclaves. The Berliner Mauerweg feels a lot smoother than the raggedness I saw on maps and experienced when biking, as though the act of memorialising shaved off the annoying bits, and in turn reified this version of a border. An area that shifted over time becomes a single line.
The messy bits are around Dreilinden, which leads into the exclave of Steinstücken; some of Potsdam — though the crossing of the Havel means there’s never a true way, unless I paddle myself over; Staaken and Seeburg east of Spandau; and the stretch from Wilhelmsruh up to Glienicke. Feels like time to ride the Mauerweg again.
Michael’s last day in Berlin. We went to the Stasimuseum in Lichtenberg. Michael wondered if China would ever have a similar museum with exhibitions of how they monitored WeChat and ran the Social Credit System. We decided it would be evaluated as, “70% right, 30% bad, left deviationism.”
Distracting myself from a quartet of books I’ve been struggling with for an age (thanks, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak), I “accidentally” picked up Edward Said’s Orientalism again. It’s been a while since I blearily (and slowly) read an academic book over breakfast; I am well out of practice. I don’t remember how awkwardly his gendered language sat with me in the past as this time around, though he was almost exclusively writing about white European men, nonetheless, Orientalism remains a depressingly relevant and critical read.
There was a big Hokusai show in Berlin at (I think) Martin Gropius Bau a couple of years ago, I went to see with Dasniya. No Shunga. No pervy octopus tentacle porn. Not even a mention. But in Marbella, in the small but very nice MGEC Museo del Grabado Español Contemporáneo, in the very unexpected exhibition, Estampa japonesa — Imágenes del mundo flotante, amidst three rooms of Japanese Edo and Meiji era prints, a whole wall of Shunga. And this one, from Katsukawa Shunchō’s: series, Imayō irokumi no ito. One of my absolute favourites, just hanging on the wall in a small museum in Marbella.