Markthalle

"Authentic" Berlin: BerghainThere are two differing versions of the production of authenticity as I see it. One of them, on which our reading is based, involves the production of authenticity to serve as a means of drawing in “travelers,” who apparently, upon falling into this type of forged authenticity, transition to being “tourists.” Of course, this transition can’t be seen nor do I find it to be especially worth discussing at great length. However, I do feel that I could sum up what I believe happens into a simple, albeit certainly debatable and perhaps disagreeable, summation.

Reflecting on Marx, it seems that the difference between the “traveler” and the “tourist” stems out of the ongoing class struggle that came out of industrialization. The old elites, those who became those who held the means of production and were at one point the only ones who could afford traveling and seeing far-off lands. As travel became more and more accessible, “tourism” was invented as a way to distinguish those going on vacation from those who were part of the elite, cultured class and wanted to see the world. Being a tourist has been produced as linguistically negative term that no one wants to be associated with and, as such, no one wants to do anything that could be perceived as “inauthentic,” which roughly translates to anything designed for a tourist. So, anytime anyone finds something to do while traveling that has made them FEEL like they were getting an ACTUAL experience of a NEW culture by way of their own INDEPENDENT adventures and means, they’ve labeled it “authentic.” Naturally, the tourist industry has tapped into this desire and come up with ways of giving people the “illusion” of authenticity (which seems like an illusion of an illusion) while profiting at the same time.

On the other hand, there seems to be another type of produced “authenticity” that is designed to keep people out. Here, in Berlin, there are so many things that are only for “real Berliners,” and the criteria of authenticity is used to, instead of enhance numbers and profits, actually keep people out. I guess the same thing happens in New York, but I’ve never experienced in the same way that I have here (perhaps because I am DEFINITELY a “REAL” New Yorker).

So, in order to exemplify what my feelings of the two productions of authenticity are in Berlin, I will discuss restaurants (for the former/De Boton reading of authenticity) and night life (for the latter, my reading of authenticity here).

First, as for restaurants, there are two restaurants here in my neighborhood, Kreutzberg, that I’m currently working on reviews of. First, there’s Henne (pronounced “hen-UH”) that’s about a ten minute walk from my apartment. Henne is perceived to be the most authentic restaurant that we’ve gone to, despite the fact that we were all told about it and given directions there from numerous people. They are friendly to tourists. I, myself, have even been there twice, and will probably go again later in the week when I have a guest coming. It’s fun to be sure. The beamed ceilings and unfinished, hard-wood floor give this place a real Black Forest feel, while the ceramic, carved beer steins only add to the rustic feeling. It is famous for its “milchschinken,” or half-of-a-fried-chicken-served-without-sides. It’s good that it’s famous for this, because it’s the only thing on the menu besides beer and sauerkraut.

Next, we’ve got Markthalle (pronounced MARKT-all-eh), about a 15 minute walk away. No, we weren’t directly led to this one. A friend of mine on the trip brought me there, laying claim to the place, saying triumphantly, “I found this place all on my own! It looks so German! They say they have the best weiner schnitzel in all of Berlin!” The décor matched Henne’s, the menu, though with slightly more options, still had the rustic aesthetics of Henne’s, the staff, all scarily-Aryan looking, matched Henne’s. It felt like Henne. Then we sat down and got our menus-for-tourists, written in English, French, Spanish, and Italian.

So, what’re my accusations against these places? Every member of the staff speaks perfect English (and a number of other languages), the food is absurdly overpriced, we were directly led there for an “authentic” experience if not by people, by design and advertising, and no guest, that I’ve encountered at either place, speaks to the staff in German. Furthermore, at least half of the imagery that they draw upon to create the “authentic” feel comes from Southern Germany, not Berlin.

As for my reading of a second type of authenticity, I will herein discuss the club Berghain (pronounced bierk-AYN, a word only native Germans can pronounce correctly, I should add). Berghain rests on the border of Kreutzberg and Freidrichshain, and derives its name from a combination of the last four letters of both of these formerly East German neighborhoods. Like Williamsburg, East Berlin has only recently Gentrified and become trendy. According to residentadvisor.net (click picture above), Kreutzberg is now the center of Electro, and Berghain is the number one club in Berlin. An old electric factory, this place now bumps so loudly with bass every Saturday (or actually Sunday since it opens at 12am and doesn’t close until 12pm Sunday afternoon), that it can be heard from 10 minutes away in any direction. The second floor of Berghain (or Panarama bar) can, too, be seen from about 10 minutes away, with multicolored laser lights flashing from its windows. From what I was told from the one person I know who’s been inside, the place is never crowded. This is odd since there’s always about a 40 minute wait to get inside. But, this place keeps its authenticity by keeping out the riff-raff. That is, you are firmly judged by a bouncer, who in roughly 9 out of 10 cases, simply firmly dismisses you. Also according to resident advisor, the criterion for getting in does not involve looks. It involves whether or not you respond to the bouncer, who invariably speaks English to you, also in English or in German (never speak English or act like you know what he said to you), whether or not you look the bouncer in the eye (NEVER look the bouncer in the eye), how apathetic you look (the more apathetic the better), and how poorly dressed you are (the more poorly, the better). And so, this place keeps world-famous DJs fighting to play there and crowds of people fighting to pay 20 euro covers every Saturday night. I, myself, have an anxiety attack just thinking about trying to be that authentic.