People like me flocked to Berlin because it was ‘poor but sexy’. Those times are over | Fatma Aydemir

3 days ago 6

In 2003, Berlin had just woken up from a decade-long fever dream: the Wall had fallen, the city had reunited and the two German states had a common capital once again. Financially, Berlin’s awakening was a total hangover: billions in debt had piled up and unemployment had reached an all-time high. Culturally, however, the city was blooming. The arts and nightlife were bustling like a never-ending after-hours party on the leftovers of the cold war. This parallelism of decay and pleasure was described by the then mayor, Klaus Wowereit, in an interview that year as “poor but sexy”.

The phrase was so cheesy and so powerful, it became a slogan for Berlin’s image in subsequent years, drawing young creatives from all over the world to the city’s promising subculture scenes and its relatively affordable housing. One of these young people was me. In 2012, when I had just graduated from university, I planned to stay in Berlin for the summer. Twelve years on, I am still here.

What made me stay was a thriving cultural scene that allowed me, like many others, to understand art not just as a form of retreat from the world but a critical approach to it, a tool to understand life in new ways. Events like the experimental music festival CTM, avant-garde theatres like Volksbühne, the independent art spaces and literature houses, and indie cinemas such as Sinema Transtopia were not just built to sell likable entertainment, they were spaces of social gathering where we could imagine what world we wanted to live in. Where we could see works by artists from all over the world without having to buy overpriced tickets. But those times are over.

Plans to cut Berlin’s culture budget by €130m for 2025 have sent shockwaves through the arts scene. Protests were staged in an effort to fend off the plans, but still, the cuts were agreed in the city senate’s last meeting before the holidays. From opera houses and galleries to cultural education programmes and freelance artists, so much of Berlin’s cultural infrastructure relies on state subsidies that many venues and individuals fear going bankrupt next year.

Even Joe Chialo, the state minister for culture of the conservative Christian Democrat party (CDU) describes the 12% cuts as drastic and brutal, but at the same time encourages cultural institutions to think and act more like businesses. In short, from now on the market will decide what kind of art will survive and what won’t. I can already foresee a Berlin flooded by all the lazy work of rich kid artists who don’t have to make a living. And this is certainly the city’s glorious end as an inspiring place to go.

Because, let’s face it, Berlin is not a pretty place. The winters are a total nightmare, no sunlight, no warm face. Its cuisine is all about fast food. Large parts of town smell like a public toilet; overdosed tourists randomly pass out on the street. It’s not a city where you would sit out on a cafe terrace to people-watch. But also it’s now nearly impossible to find an affordable flat you could call home.

Arts and culture are the only things that make Berlin exceptional. You will always see or hear something new and exciting, and you don’t have to be wealthy to do so. Culture was never an elitist project in Berlin. State subsidies helped to keep ticket prices low, which for Berlin’s current mayor seems to be unjust. In an act of rhetorical aerobics, its Christian Democrat mayor, Kai Wegner, asks, if it is fair that “a cashier at the supermarket, who probably goes to the state opera quite rarely, helps to subsidise opera tickets with the taxes she pays?”

According to this logic, culture is a privilege reserved for the rich, who can afford high ticket prices. An opinion poll by the newspaper taz found out that cashiers are not amused by Wegner’s remark, and would rather decide themselves if they belong at the opera house or not.

But it’s not just about the opera. Free Sundays at Berlin museums will cease to exist, and cultural education programmes are being abolished. Cultural activities that focus on antidiscrimination, diversity, inclusion and migration are all heavily affected. It almost feels as if the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) party is already in power, except it doesn’t even need to be, because the coalition of centrists in the city senate is taking care of the AfD’s priorities, namely defunding everything that is critical of a nationalist and regressive understanding of culture.

To get the bigger picture, consider the so-called antisemitism resolution the German parliament passed in November. For many scientists and artists, its vague wording demanding that public funding be denied to projects which “spread antisemitism”, raises serious questions about freedom of expression and could easily turn into a repressive tool against critics of the Israeli government.

For decades, Berlin has profited from its image as a haven for artistic freedom. It has sucked the juice out of its artists to build the international prestige it has today. But instead of protecting its only trademark, the city is selling out its cultural workers to balance the budget. Berlin might not be as poor as it used to be, but it will never again be as sexy.