In the Venn diagram of the average German’s interests, the overlap between classical music, techno and kink might not be the first combination that comes to mind. Yet every Saturday night at KitKatClub, these three elements unite in perfect harmony with the Naked String Quartet. Now, the value proposition of a string quartet performing masterpieces at a professional standard while completely naked might speak for itself. But as the NSQ nears 100 concerts, it’s clear their success relies on far more than some out-of-context nudity.
Founded in 2024 by Canadian violist and composer Shasta Ellenbogen, the NSQ is the evolution of Classical Sundays, a project that tapped into the rare onstage energy of classical musicians performing together without a prior rehearsal. Ellenbogen formed Classical Sundays in 2018, wanting to capture the excitement of an orchestra on the back foot and to navigate virtuosic masterpieces in front of an audience without a safety net. This way, the audience could share the enthusiasm of an artist first encountering an artwork. It undermined the typical concert experience of witnessing a polished and risk-free performance.
At one fated performance by Classical Sundays at Neukölln’s Schankwirtschaft Laidak, a club booker loved what they saw. They invited the group to perform in KitKat’s Salon Rouge during a Sunday brunch afterparty. Brunch turned into an evening performance, and before you know it, Ellenbogen had approached KitKat’s co-owner, Kirsten Krüger, who booked the quartet to perform for her birthday party at the club in 2024. This triggered a near-weekly concert series that has seen the ensemble perform more than 90 concerts in nothing but their birthday suits. To rave reviews, they play masterpieces by the likes of Haydn, Schubert and Ravel in a rotating ensemble of 16 members, all overseen by the woman who started it all.
IMPERFECTLY PERFECT
At 8pm most Saturdays, an audience of early club-goers gathers around the poolside of KitKat. They sit on the edges of the pool and the sofas that surround it. The naked ensemble on the platform in front is the focal point of the room. As one, they raise their instruments, undergo one final tuning and begin to play. Audience members enter continuously and the room reaches capacity typically by the beginning of the second set, just after 9pm. Listeners are free to converse with each other, though Ellenbogen observes that they are often “super quiet and respectful”.
If we’re introducing people to classical music, possibly for the very first time, we have to play fucking amazing.
The quartet itself is picked from a roster of 16 musicians that Ellenbogen has pulled together over the years. Early in the week, a repertoire has been selected, so each musician has the opportunity to practice privately before they take the stage. One unique aspect of the NSQ is a continuation of the no-rehearsal model from Classical Sundays, which adds a thrill to each performance. Not unlike a sports event, there’s an element of the unknown. Will they make it through the piece, or completely fall apart and have to stop? Removing the polished perfection typical of a concert, the audience engages on a different level, willing the musicians to succeed and celebrating the odd moments of failure with support.
It’s a far cry from the classical world, where any minuscule flaw might be ridiculed by critics and tetchy concertgoers alike. In Ellenbogen’s words, “the fact we don’t do rehearsals makes it something oriented by fun and not by perfectionism.” After all, “a lot of classical music is hella fucking dramatic and cheesy, but this is always kind of brushed aside by the typical classical music institution.”
In the same vein, a judgemental few question the quality of NSQ – a criticism that fails to hold up once you’ve heard them play. “People are often surprised that we’re actually good,” says Ellenbogen, “which I find problematic. There’s an assumption that because we’re getting naked, we couldn’t get work otherwise.” Yet the musicians themselves are pulled from the upper echelons of Berlin’s classical music scene, with several playing regularly in renowned orchestras. Many have even won competitions in their own countries, as well as internationally. “Everybody in the NSQ has at some point in their life really gone for it,” says Ellenbogen, “and dived into their instruments in a really, really serious way.”
CULTURE OF EXCELLENCE
Regardless of the criticism, KitKat’s audience response is consistently positive. During one performance of Mozart’s famous ‘Queen of the Night’ aria from The Magic Flute – during which a naked soprano (guest-starring with the quartet) acrobatically performed on the infamous trapeze that hangs over the swimming pool, all while singing one of music’s most difficult melodies – the standing ovation went for longer than the piece itself. It’s fair to assume that many audience members might not be frequent listeners of classical music, and therefore be taken aback when encountering an opera scene in the middle of their favourite fetish club. If this is the case, the NSQ takes on a rather large responsibility. “If we’re introducing people to classical music, possibly for the very first time, we have to play fucking amazing,” Ellenbogen notes.
I’m probably like a persona non grata in classical music now that I play naked all the time.
Despite performing in a non-traditional setting with non-traditional listening practices, she believes the alternative setting can allow for a higher culture of excellence, a culture that’s “really one of the best things about classical music”. According to Ellenbogen, playing at KitKat “gives us a space to actually reach a really, really high level without the constraints of artistic expression that the system places on us”.
In recent times, classical music has struggled with allegations of financial and social elitism, mixed with an anxiety about whether an art form that appeals to the few (while being funded by the tax dollars of the many) remains socially relevant. Some in the industry push to appeal to a broader audience, reducing the complexity and virtuosity that put some people off. But the NSQ doesn’t opt for simplification. “It’s why people love to watch the Olympics,” Ellenbogen claims. “It’s amazing to see people who are really fucking good at something really difficult. All of us classical musicians are fucking amazing people who can do amazing things.”
KEEP THIS THING ALIVE
Nonetheless, the question of social relevance continues to rear its head in popular culture. Only recently, Timothée Chalamet took aim at classical art forms during a panel discussion for Variety Magazine. “I don’t want to be working in ballet or opera, or you know, things where it’s like, ‘Hey, keep this thing alive,’” he said. Predictably, the backlash was fierce in the worlds of ballet and opera. But not all those in the classical arts think Chalamet is far off. One of them is Ellenbogen. “He seems kind of douchey, but I agree with him. I think it’s right that opera and ballet are not really relevant anymore. I’m sure it’s relevant to the people who really like it, but it’s not culturally relevant anymore to most people.” When asked if it should be, she responded, “I think three opera houses in one city is a bit much and is a questionable use of funding, because opera is really hideously expensive to put on.”
The issue of funding presides. Recent years have seen cuts across the arts in Germany, and no segment of the industry is immune to the belt-tightening. Berlin is the only city in the world to host three state-funded opera houses. The state also provides funding to seven major orchestras: the Berliner Philharmoniker, Konzerthausorchester, Rundfunk-Sinfonieorchester, Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester and the three orchestras that perform at the Komische Oper, Staatsoper Unter den Linden and Deutsche Oper.
Meanwhile, independent classical music organisations within the Freieszene (independent scene) are left to fight for scraps. Most spend far too long working through the bureaucratic quagmire or finding methods of financial sustainability – at the detriment of their art. For Ellenbogen, the fact that the NSQ can pay their bills through performance fees is a strong example of classical music earning its existence without a public subsidy. “There’s this nice gang of musicians out there who can survive really nicely, playing music totally outside the classical music institution, outside the funding world completely, just purely on the actual market that people pay their own money for. I think this is huge.”
You might not expect it from a classical musician, but Ellenbogen believes that KitKat is more important as a cultural institution than the Staatsoper or the Philharmonie – with more cultural impact, more relevance and more renown. “Even if people have vaguely heard of KitKat, they know what it stands for. What does the Philharmonie stand for? Old music? People don’t really know what it stands for. They know what it sort of stands for – money or class or something like that.” In fact, the approval of KitKat means more to her than any classical music institution.
AT THE HEART
A regular source of income, admiration from fans and the respect of a world-recognised venue: all of this would suggest that life in the NSQ is going rather well. Of course, reality is rarely so simple. When asked about the biggest challenge she faces, the answer is straightforward: “Being in a fucking nightclub every week.” Other gigging opportunities have dried up for Ellenbogen since the KitKat residency began (“I’m probably like a persona non grata in classical music now that I play naked all the time”), not least because every Saturday is taken up.
There’s this nice gang of musicians out there who can survive really nicely, playing music totally outside the classical music institution, outside the funding world completely.
As KitKat has become her weekly office, Ellenbogen’s insights into the deeper sides of the clubbing experience are illuminating. “It’s certainly a place of exploration. I think it’s sort of a force of chaotic neutral. I think you can definitely gain significant insight exploring yourself. It’s definitely a club where a person could ruin their marriage or really go too far in some kind of direction, which would be self-discovery in a different way.” Being part of the beating heart of Berlin’s club scene every week certainly has its confronting moments: “a lot of light, really powerful light, and a lot of darkness”. She has noticed that people go to KitKat to explore, but also to destroy, which can mean becoming engulfed in such intense energy. “It’s a blast of everything that’s good, bad, evil, amazing, powerful, disgusting. It’s such a wide spectrum of things to be blessed with. It’s intense. I like it.”
As for her desire to don clothes again and return to the traditional classical music scene, Ellenbogen doesn’t expect the phone to start ringing. “I would say the industry ignores me. I’m never invited to any kind of discussions or something like that as to how to make classical music interesting or relevant, despite being one of the most successful people in the world at it.” Still, she is far from against collaborating with traditional venues in Berlin. When asked whether or not she’d like to take the Naked String Quartet to the Philharmonie, for example, Ellenbogen believes the nudity and concert would need some contextualising – but that it could work. Her message for promoters was this: “I’d love for us to play in a concert hall space. I’m very open, if you’re reading this. You would sell so many tickets!”
You can see the Naked String Quartet perform at KitKat most Saturdays and follow them @nakedstringquartet. If you’re interested in more non-traditional takes on classical music, read about LABYRINTH.
