When it comes to Berlin’s underground, there are some places that have become so beloved, so synonymous with the scene, that their presence is almost ingrained in the architecture of the city. Many would argue that Loophole is one of those places. The alternative arts collective and music venue, located in the heart of Neukölln and made up of 22 core members, has developed strong community ties and a near-cult-like following during its 15-year run.
On July 4, to the shock of the entire team, Loophole was permanently banned from hosting concerts at their Boddinstraße home. According to a statement released on July 5 by Loophole’s press team, police and the Ordnungsamt conducted a “massive raid”, during which it seems nothing suspicious was discovered, but which nonetheless resulted in an involuntary closure. “We are devastated,” Loophole revealed in the statement, which claims the raid was motivated by multiple noise complaints. Authorities have not yet released a report. All planned events through the end of the year are now cancelled, and the venue has been revoked of its bar licence, the main source of income. So to save the last dance (for now), the venue has announced one final epic party for you to plan your weekend around.
You better not kill the groove
Since 2009, Loophole has played host to countless live acts, DJs, drag performances, film clubs, experimental noise nights, live drawing sessions, karaoke, and everything in between. “You don’t need any experience or special skills to be a part of the collective or the community,” says Hannah Gonzalez, one of Loophole’s longest working members who, in addition to being artists and musicians themselves, helps run the organisation. “Loophole is a space which worships creativity and diversity. If you have a vision, people will rally behind you and support your creative ideas.” Gonzalez has been volunteering at Loophole for the past four years. She describes the team as non-hierarchical, collaborative and equitable about the operational roles and responsibilities.
“I was at the bar during several of the police raids over the years.” Gonzalez says. “They involve several large vans filled with police and Ordnungsamt officers pulling up. Then around 20 officers enter the bar, stop the music, don’t allow customers to leave, and question the customers and the collective members.” She continues, “During the most recent raid, they confiscated the money Loophole had in the Kasse, as well as the money in the artist donation box at the door.” The surprise visit happened just moments before the start of one of the evening’s shows, Loophole’s statement revealed, which then had to be cancelled. “After lengthy and intimidating interrogations … the venue was ordered closed and we are not allowed to enter the building, effective immediately. We were given no time to react, plan, or plead our case.”
The shutdown is another striking blow to Berlin’s underground music scene. Only a few years removed from the pandemic, many venues are still in recovery mode, and the increase in rent prices in Neukölln, plus ever-evolving demographics and population of the city, has contributed to a cultural shift in a neighbourhood historically catered to nightlife. “Neukölln is known to be loud and a hotspot for nightlife, which is an integral part of the city’s culture and economy. The challenge is that due to the housing crisis, not everyone has the opportunity to find a place to meet their needs,” says Gonzalez.
Over the years, Loophole – which occupies the ground floor and basement of a residential building – has tried to openly communicate with surrounding residents, invested thousands in soundproofing and instituted a noise-lowering policy beginning at 22:00 that discourages noise from attendees lingering outside the venue, only to be met with further pushback, intolerance and even vandalism, their members claim. Gonzalez cites two neighbours in particular who have “actively antagonized [them] in a variety of ways” and made no effort at a compromise. The July 4 raid, the team believe, was the latest blow in a long-running battle.
It’s their party, and they’ll cry if they want to
In the face of such a setback, the consensus is that the best thing to do is party about it. On July 26, the collective will throw a solidarity party at Fitzroy and Lark, with shows happening simultaneously all night between the two neighbouring venues. (When asked who she’s looking forward to seeing perform in particular, Gonzalez lists Sean Nicolas Savage and Molly Nielson). Presale tickets sold out quickly, but €20 at the door will grant you entry if you arrive early, and all funds raised will go toward legal fees, moving costs and the rent Loophole still has to pay despite its current period of forced inactivity.
The collective has set up a GoFundMe to help cover that ongoing cost; their lease is a 5-year rental term at nearly €4,000 per month). You can also sign their petition declaring that the organisation is a crucial cultural institution in Berlin deserving of a new location. To date, Loophole has raised over €10,500, surpassing the initial goal of €8,000. “We are absolutely blown away [and it’s] validating in knowing that Loophole really meant something! It gives us hope for the future,” says Gonzalez.
Still, there’s a long road ahead. With about a year and a half left on the lease – which amounts to about €80,000 euros in both rent and expenses – and the revocation of both the bar and concert licences, the team isn’t sure how to move forward, contemplating the possibility of finding a new space while still holding out a small glimmer of hope for saving the original. “Currently the future of Loophole is very unknown,” Gonzalez admits.
But come Friday, no one will be dancing with tears in their eyes, they hope. The overall sentiment on their sendoff shindig is not mournful. It’s rebellious. The soli party intends to celebrate the outpouring of support received in the weeks since the announcement, and demonstrate the importance of the institution in the way they know best: dancing ‘til dawn.
