B EAST Magazine website

Visitors to East Berlin often admire the Socialist murals that adorn the walls of many buildings, depicting scenes of industrious workers proudly advancing their society. Now, one lucky Ostaglia fan can take such a mural home with them to assemble on their own wall - for free.

The city of Berlin is giving away two classic DDR-era murals. They are attached to the sides of government-owned buildings which are due to be demolished. One mural is by Walter Womacka, perhaps the most famous artist of the DDR. His 15-meter high mosaic, entitled Der Mensch, das Maß aller Dinge (Man, The Measure of All Things), is up for grabs. As is Lob des Kommunismus (In Praise of Communism), an 11-meter long painting by Ronald Paris, which currently sits in the ballroom of the former statistics office of the DDR (see below).

However, there is a catch: The new owner must pay for the removal of the murals. One art restoration expert estimates it will cost about 18,000 EU to disassemble them, and 13,000 EU to restore and preserve them. Interested? Apply here.

As a postscript, Womacka also created the wonderful mosaics which decorate the walls of the Haus des Lehrers (Teachers’ House) at Alexanderplatz. Womacka’s inspired murals make us question the commonly-held view that all Communist-era architecture is “ugly”. Visitors to Alexanderplatz would do well to linger for a moment outside the Haus des Lehrers, and from this vantage point observe the hiddeous new malls which now blight the corners opposite. Here’s what B EAST editor Joel Alas wrote about communist-versus-capitalist architecture, back in our ‘East Sides’ issue in Summer 2008:

“Architecture in the West today is just as bland as its Eastern precursor. In fact, today’s urban design seems to owe a lot to Soviet central planning. Prefabricated slabs of concrete remains the preferred material of use. Boxy, monotonous and anonymous designs continue to sprout like fungi in cities everywhere, even as the West titters and shakes its head at the mistakes of Soviet designers. Wait ten years until the paint starts to fade and the rendering flakes off, and the ironic similarity between Eastern mass housing projects and Western mass profit projects becomes apparent.”

By Joel Alas

On a narrow street in Budapest’s vibrant Jewish Quarter, a new design shop offers a glimpse beneath the city’s cultural radar. It invites local street artists to display their designs on the wall, then echoes the motifs across clothing and furniture. Called Printa, the shop is a mix of gallery, café, boutique and screen printing workshop.

A palate of black and white dominates the store. It’s a start-yet-effective colour scheme that allows the art and products to stand out. The clothing range, too, is primarily a two-tone selection, and it works perfectly for the style of design favoured by artists here.

From the clothing racks hang edgy t-shirts, dresses, scarves and even aprons, while around the shop are second-hand furniture items, re-upholstered with smartly printed fabrics. There’s lots of textile recycling going on here: bicycle tubes turned into bags and purses, old washing machine drums revived as cushion-covered foot stools.

Printa opened in November 2009, offering an outlet for Budapest’s dynamic street artists. The city hosts a number of talented designers who began in the medium of graffiti, and have moved toward paper, canvas and sketchbook work. Printa’s founder is Claudia Martins, a Brazilian photographer disillusioned with her medium, who turned to screen printing as a new outlet.

“I always question: Do we need so many images? In photography we are overexposing the world,” Martins says over a café latte in Printa’s coffee corner. “Screen printing is pretty much the same technique as photography. Print shows the internal processes of each person. I’m totally in love with screen printing.”

The engine of the store is the printing workshop at the rear, with a rotating screen printing tree, rinsing basins, work benches, and shelves of old screens in their wooden frames. Here artists create their designs, then copy them by hand onto t-shirts and other fabrics.

There’s a small gallery space at the front of the shop where the designs are displayed in their original form – on paper or canvas, hung on the wall. The same patterns can be seen throughout the shop. As well as walking away with a canvas, you can take the design on a limited-run t-shirt.

Looking out onto the street is a small café area with an adjoining shelf of locally produced art books, plus editions from the ubiquitous Taschen design library and an obligatory Tom of Finland hardcover.

You’ll find Printa at Rumbach Sebestyen utca 10, almost directly opposite the ornately-decorated Status Quo synagogue.

Nearby, in the busy shopping district around the Vorosmarty Square, another creative clothing concept is taking shape. A group of young fashion design students have renovated a cheap apartment space overlooking the busy square, and have transformed it into an atelier and private clothing showroom. Called Kepp, the space is another example of initiative projected by the young creatives of Budapest.

A rack of fashion samples greets the visitor as they enter the small apartment, with designs ranging from simple to experimental. The designers here are all still studying at the local art university, and their ideas about material, texture and shape are fresh and exciting.

Kepp is a private showroom, so you’ll have to arrange a visit. E-mail info(a)keppshowroom.com to make an appointment.

Printa
www.printa.hu
Rumbach Sebestyen utca 10, Budapest VII

Kepp Showroom
www.keppshowroom.com
Vorosmarty ter 3

Dec 10, 2009

It’s not the Hopenhagen effect, though going green and ‘being green’ are more closely linked than has been discussed. (Just roll one up and think about it. Sure, an hour or two later you’re still going to be sitting here and thinking about it instead of going out there and creating some scary carbon footprints.!) It’s the Amsterdam effect. And, since we called it years ago, we feel good crowing about it in public now that it’s come to pass.

In yet another sign that Prague is the New Amsterdam, the Czech government went one step further this week towards legalising cannabis. From Jan 1, 2010 onwards, Czechs can grow upto five marijuana plants or carry couple Js in their pockets without fear of criminal prosecution. Marijuana has already been semi-legal in Prague for years, with most bars looking aside as clients rolled up a spliff, and dealers operating in the open in ‘known’ cafes and clubs. It’s never been a big deal to light one up in Prague, and, unlike its sister city, Amsterdam, the natives do smoke. It’s not just something for the stoner tourists but a local phenomenom, with 22% of Czechs between the ages of 16 and 35 having smoked. We figure it’s much higher than that, at least 50% and over in Prague.

Whatever the real statistics, the government ruling is a legaslative recognition of the realities on the ground. Since the Velvet Revolution, Czechs have been the most dope-friendly nation in Europe, even more than the Dutch, who have spent the last decade cutting back on their freewheeling coffeeshop culture. The country’s mainstream magazine, Reflex openly campaigned for dope legalisation, and its reporter, J.X. Dolezal was hailed as the Czech Hunter S. Thompson. He’s written books like ‘How to Take Drugs’ and ‘Stoned Country’, and . A medical marijuana pharmacy was opened to great fanfare in the center of Prague recently, with even the Mayor attending the event. Though the place was raided and the drugs confiscated a few weeks later, the message is clear: Europe’s dope-mecca is moving East. Now, what we need is some new strain of Beastly weed from the East!