Kathrin finds beauty

Tempelhof Airport, in the middle of Berlin, feels like a relief. It ceased running in 2008 and thanks to engaged communities fighting for public access, it became the city’s biggest park in 2010. Whereas Berlin has swallowed me up in the past, I can choose to vanish in its fields. My ears hear layers of distant sound, people are flying kites, rare birds suddenly give company. Its beauty derives from being an industrial ruin; a vacancy in the middle of city life. Though I have always loved the atmosphere of functioning airports and the promises they hold, their symbolism has become more difficult to embrace in our age. Maybe Tempelhof seems comforting because Germany feels like a big productive machine, eating its way into our last quiet places, unstoppable. Climate Change will bring about more of these ruins, I expect.

[Kathrin Bartha is a PhD candidate at Berlin. Her hometown Frankfurt houses one of Europe’s biggest airports.]

[Photographer - Veronica Bartleet]

[Photographer – Veronica Bartleet]

Late Summer Afternoon – Lukas Hoffman, Sophie-Scholl-Schule

Berlin, 20 September 2014

Berlin, 20 September 2014

LATE SUMMER AFTERNOON

I look up.
The ocean that we call sky is clear.
The burning light of the sun hurts my eyes.
Instinctively I turn my head in another direction.
What I see is the reflecting after-glow on the other side of the big mirror.
My brain tells me it’s a good day,
but it’s been a cold day.
The sun wants to tell me something,
now that I have been thinking about her.
But she doesn’t like what I have been thinking,
so she goes and her place takes a red and orange cloud.
This beautiful blue ocean turned into a dark unclear cover.
All that happened within a few minutes.

Lukas Hoffman, Sophie-Scholl-Schule, Berlin