Matt Robinson: Private Guide Profile

When I first arrived in Berlin, the city was a little different to how it is now – in essence the same, with the same rawness to it – but darker; perhaps best explained as closer to the source of its anguish. It is often said that Berlin is incomplete – or in the process of being defined – doomed to be eternally unfinished. I’ve seen the city refine itself in many ways since I arrived – largely for the best. But that has swept away some of the intensity that Berlin has since become known for – and many still arrive to seek out.

The Berlin techno scene I found fascinating when I arrived, it reminded me of the UK anarcho-punk scene I grew up admiring in my teens. The complete disregard for a mandate for expression.  The DIY ethic. The minimal, industrial sound, the reappropriation of spaces – bomb-damaged buildings, power stations – but overall, the Alice In Wonderland sense of exploration that came with it. All that died with Google Maps. The scene has no doubt moved on. To revisit that would be impossible now, no matter how many other people are searching for it.

To say Berlin’s citizens are a politically active bunch would be an immense understatement. The tendency for grassroots activism has always been there. However, with the country’s current climate of commemoration, where there were once citizens’ initiatives there are now numerous government supported projects. Two of my favourites examples would be the Topography of Terror museum and the Stasi Museum (housed in the former headquarters of the East German secret police). Both were much less co-ordinated (or less polished) when I first visited them, it was obvious how much attention and pride in dealing with the history had been taken when introducing these projects by the citizen caretakers. With government funding both of these places are now more accessible to the general public; but I can’t help but feel some sense of nostalgia for the handwritten and photocopied dedication to preserving and presenting history that existed when the two locations were volunteer-run and driven by a passionate belief in the preservation of history. Many of the staff still working at the Stasi Museum have personal stories of their experiences interacting with the East German secret police, as victims of that oppressive organ, and the time I have spent working alongside them has gifted me a sense of humility and respect in light of their diligence and dedication. Although I continue to be impressed by the official way of dealing with history in this country, there is something about making history official that takes it a step away from the reality – and the people who experienced it.

Lastly, I would say the third thing I would like to experience again would be a certain Döner kebab stand that I ate at (that no longer exists). Everyone has that place that they recall visiting that managed to elevate something conventional to mythical status. The tomatoes that tasted unbelievably divine, the bread that was softer and more satisfying than any other bread you can recall. In a city of Döner kebab stands, I have never been able to find anything that stands up to the original experience I had my first time in the city. Although I know lots of places that come close and are exceptional in their own right. Nothing tastes like that first late night Döner when it’s done right.