In September, sunburnt Berliners peel themselves away from the banks of their favourite lake and make their slow, weary return to the city. The festivals are over, the Euros are finished and these poor, hungover souls must rouse themselves for the heady demands of Berlin Art Week – the city’s own tournament of culture, its seven-day orgy of openings, performances, prizes and parties.
And with so many art events crammed into a single week, you get the chance to reconnect with all your wonderful art friends again, and then again and again… The week begins with air kisses raining down like machine-gun fire, but by Saturday the mood has changed. The endless cycle of exhibitions feels more like an interminable speed-dating event, a relentless parade of small talk and awkwardness.
The week begins with air kisses raining down like machine-gun fire.
To avoid social stagnation, try to branch out a bit and move away from your usual haunts. Venture beyond Kreuzberg and Mitte to somewhere tremendously exotic like Wedding. Each Bezirk has its own art tribe, its own gaggle of over-underdressed art fans chasing frinks (free drinks).
If, like me, you promise to raw-dog your way through every opening without drinking only to find yourself immediately reaching for that delicious warm bottle of Becks, don’t be too hard on yourself. Drinks aren’t just pleasant accoutrements but are as important as the art on the walls. Without the social lubricant there really is no way to navigate the ritualistic absurdity of an art opening.
Because to see art at an opening is ridiculous. The space is usually excessively busy, people natter loudly and parents, saving on babysitters, have brought along their kids who careen around the artworks in a hectic game of provocation. You must abandon the delusion of seeing art and embrace an opening’s networking potential. But whatever you do, don’t make the mistake of going on your own.
It’s almost guaranteed that once you’ve given the art its cursory glance you’re standing on your own in the corner. While everyone else is deep in conversation, throwing their heads back in loud explosions of gaiety, you’re waiting for someone you know to walk through the door, greeting the creepy weirdo (who seems to be everywhere and whom you usually avoid) with a radiant smile and a hearty handshake.
Of course, when you really don’t know anyone, openings provide an unparalleled chance to make some new art-world friends. Look out for anyone standing on their own (they’ll be reading the exhibition text) and say something to them that’s utterly random and unverifiable, like: “The heads of these sculptures remind me of the mud figures I used to make with my uncle. He’s dead now, he choked on a Styrofoam peanut.”
The art world loves exhibitionists, and the more flamboyant and unhinged you sound the better.
The art world loves exhibitionists, and the more flamboyant and unhinged you sound the better. Once they’ve looked at you strangely, move on to someone else. After a while, you’ll be at the centre of a small network of loners. Introduce them to each other and slowly move up the social ladder.
You know you’re doing something right when someone invites you to the artist’s dinner at a low to mid-priced restaurant across town. In no time at all, you’ll find yourself surrounded by monied bores (collectors), who will tell you about their various income streams. To put them at ease you can always squeeze more juice out of your dead uncle again, imply he was loaded and left you some “holdings”. Artist dinners are never as much fun as you first hoped, but that’s not the point. It’s exclusive and being there is better than not being there.
It’s now the norm for exhibiting artists to also DJ, and as luck would have it, they’ll be manning the turntables at a nearby nightclub. This is not a side hustle but an intrinsically important part of their multidisciplinary experimental art practice. This is of course extremely exciting, and “you can’t wait to go” as you call an Uber to take you home. You’ll need your sleep; you’ll be doing it again tomorrow.
- Berlin Art Week, Sep 11-15, more info here.
