Bernauerstrasse — © Brian Rose

Signs mounted along the path through the former no man’s land along Bernauer Strasse. When the wall first went up in 1961, it began as concrete blocks topped with barbed wire. Neighbors could still call out to one another over the wall. Here you can see them standing on ladders or climbing on street poles. The provisional nature of the wall gradually gave way to standardized system that was effective and deadly.

When I began photographing the wall in 1985, it seemed that it was forever. But I had my doubts. It wasn’t that I could see obvious changes on the borderline, but having traveled to the east side a number of times, I came to realize that East Germany — indeed the whole communist/soviet project was held together with brutal force and an inordinate amount of duct tape and chewing gum. I couldn’t understand why the American government couldn’t see that as well. And above all, as the 80s wore on, the push back from citizens of the East — from to shipbuilders of Poland to the students in East Berlin’s Prenzlauerberg (where this photo was taken) became more and more intense.

Nevertheless, in 1987 the New York Times editorial page insisted that the division of Germany was just “a part of the furniture” of the global balance of power. I took issue with that, and my letter to the editor was published with a wonderful accompanying cartoon from the illustrator Suter.

The wall came down two years later.

LIchtgrenze — © Brian Rose

Some 8,000 illuminated balloons mark the line of the former Berlin wall as it snaked through the center of the city. Here the “light border” passes over a foot bridge above train tracks heading toward the Fernsehturm (TV tower) in the distance. On the evening of November 9th, the balloons will be released into the air.

Potsdamer Platz — © Brian Rose

The wall once ran directly through Potsdamer Platz, and now a double row of cobblestones marks the trace of the outer wall through the mostly paved square. A series of wall slabs with exhibition photos and text in between are placed directly on the former borderline.

The blue boxes have something to do with the 25th anniversary of the wall coming down. I’ve seen them in various locations. I suspect they’ll be stacked up and toppled.

After the wall came down Potsdamer Platz was recreated almost from scratch. Very few buildings had survived the war or the post war demolition in the border zone. Important planners and architects were brought in to make it, once again, a focal point of commercial and cultural life of the city. Commercial tawdriness has taken over to a great extent.

Topography of Terror — © Brian Rose

A short distance from Potsdamer Platz is the Topography of Terror, the former site of the Nazi SS and Gestapo headquarters. A long stretch of the Berlin wall still stands just above the excavated cellar walls of the Gestapo building. In the rear is the former Luftwaffe (air force) building.

Topography of Terror — © Brian Rose

The exhibition building, designed by Ursula Wilms, is a simple modern box with a steel mesh skin. At dusk, the lights inside can be seen through the mesh. Much of the site is covered in a grey gravel. To the left is the former Europahaus, one of the few buildings near Potsdamer Platz that survived Allied bombing, and one of the first modern high rise buildings in Berlin. To the right is Martin Gropius-Bau, a museum, that is currently exhibiting the photographs of Walker Evans.

Bornholmer Strasse, Berlin — © Brian Rose

My first day in Berlin in five years. I am here for the 25th anniversary of the opening of the Berlin wall. I am adding to a project that began in 1985 when I traveled across Europe photographing the Iron Curtain including Berlin.

Much building has occurred in the open areas that comprised the no man’s land between the double walls that ran through the city dividing it and surrounding what was once known as West Berlin. But even now, over 60 years since World War II, and 25 years since the wall came down, Berlin still exhibits scars and wasteland. It is, however, a greatly transformed place.

The Berlin wall, physically, is mostly gone. There are strips of it here and there, now landmarked, after years of a greater desire to see it gone. But the wall exists more vividly than ever in the imagination and in history, which is always present in this city haunted by the past like no other.

I made my first photographic venture yesterday going to Bornholmer Strasse, a place I had never photographed before, the location of the first border checkpoint to open in the evening of November 9th 1989 when thousands flooded across, there and shortly after, at other crossing points.

There is a monument to that event just across the bridge that crosses the railroad tracks where the border checkpoint used to stand. Large black and white photographs show the crowds of East Germans rushing across into West Berlin. Some of the wall still stands here. Not the outer wall that faced West Berlin, but part of the inner wall on the east side next to the border checkpoint.

Bernauer Strasse — © Brian Rose

From there I went two S-Bahn stops away to Bernauer Strasse, the location of the main Berlin wall monument. It extends for several blocks and includes sections of the original wall as well as visual interpretations such as the row of steel rods seen above. There are large images fixed to the plaster walls of apartment buildings — blank walls created when residents were evicted and buildings torn down to create a wider and more enforceable no man’s land. In the early days of the wall, Bernauer Strasse was the scene of many dramatic escapes as people leapt from windows that overlooked the west, and many were killed or injured.

There were many visitors to the memorial when I was there, and a motorcade of unidentified men in suits toured the grounds with police and bodyguards hovering around. Today, the S-Bahn drivers are going on strike for part of the day, and will operate fewer trains than normal throughout the week. This will potentially disrupt the festivities planned around the 25th anniversary of the wall coming down — a moment commemorating national unity and the ongoing fight for human rights — and I’m guessing their action will not be much appreciated by anyone.

Professional photographer hard at work. Leaving this evening for Berlin to photograph the wall that no longer exists — that came down 25 years ago on November 9th. Will be using view camera and film rather than iPhone.

My 15 year old son Brendan had a school photography assignment to do this weekend — to make pictures of his family. When given the option to take painting or drawing, or architectural rendering, Brendan thought it would be “easier” to take photography, given that’s what his father does. We had a little time Saturday afternoon to take pictures before guests came over for dinner. So, Brendan and I walked around the Williamsburg waterfront together taking turns shooting with my Sigma DP 1.

Here’s Brendan:

North 3rd Street, Williamsburg, Brooklyn — © Brian Rose

Brendan wanted to take off the cuff pictures of me walking around, and we did some of those. But one of my favorites is something in between. Despite all the development in this part of Williamsburg, there are still desolate areas — some fenced in industrial sites — that will not be there long. I stopped along a chain link fence with the skyline behind me. The light was beautiful.

Here’s Brendan’s photo of me:

River Street, Williamsburg, Brooklyn — © Brendan Rose

And finally, a snapshot I did looking, more or less, in the other direction.

North 3rd Street, Williamsburg, Brooklyn — © Brian Rose

Metamorphosis is on sale at the Friends of the High Line shop, both online and at their outdoor kiosk. Today, I did a quick box count of my inventory, and determined that I have 475 books left out of 1,000 printed. Over 50% sold since the book was released at the beginning of June.

The Atlantic’s CityLab, a web journal about urban issues. An article about Metamorphosis, Meatpacking District 1985 + 2013, and an interview. This is one is definitely worth clicking through to.

From the interview:
Manhattan is now about the nexus of money, technology, and the arts. In the old days, you could come here without a firm agenda—a dream was enough. Now you need a business plan.

Under the High Line — © Brian Rose

Building the Future of New York.

Another article and interview. This one a British design and culture web magazine.

End of summer musings, Hudson, New York.

© Brian Rose

© Brian Rose

© Brian Rose

© Brian Rose

© Brian Rose

Above is the future home of the Marina Abramovic performance art center.

In the middle of doing an exhibition at Dillon Gallery, and releasing my book about the Meatpacking District, I got a very special architectural photography assignment. The newly renovated Sterling Memorial Library at Yale University. It’s one of the most awe inspiring buildings in the Collegiate Gothic style. Designed by James Gamble Rogers, it was completed in 1930. It follows the basic form of a cathedral with central nave, side aisles, transept, and sanctuary.

From Wikipedia:  A mural in Yale University’s Sterling Memorial Library depicts the Alma Mater as a bearer of light and truth standing in the midst of the personified arts and sciences, painted in 1932 by Eugene Savage. Throughout the building the various crafts of the period are celebrated — stained glass, stone carving, decorative painting, and cabinetry. Those elements, combined with the lightness and airiness of the architecture, make it a 1930s building. There are even hints of Art Deco in the tower housing the book stacks rising behind the nave.

The nave — © Brian Rose

The transept — © Brian Rose

Alma Mater — © Brian Rose

The side aisle/lounge — © Brian Rose

The side aisle/lounge — © Brian Rose

The building was restored mostly to its original appearance. The card files, which are no longer used, hide heating, air conditioning, and electronic systems. It’s essentially a modern building underneath. It was a two day shoot and a ton of post production Photoshop work. But what a privilege to get this kind of a job. The preservation architecture was done by Helpern Architects.

For those who missed it, a few images of my exhibition last month at Dillon Gallery.

Dillon Gallery exhibition, August 2014 — © Brian Rose

Williamsburg street scene — © Brian Rose

Without comment

10th Avenue and West 25th Street — © Brian Rose

Along the High Line.

Spoonbill and Sugartown book store in Williamsburg, Brooklyn — © Brian Rose

New!!! — Brian Rose — Signed — Meatpacking
Walked down the street yesterday and discovered my name in lights, or rather on a whiteboard.

An interview in Joe Bonomo’s blog No Such Thing As Was.

I want to engage and provoke, but not preach. I want people to overlay their own mental maps of the city onto mine, and in the process look at things differently, see things freshly, re-examine their relationship to the familiar. The story in these pictures is yours as much as it is mine.

Interview in Cool Hunting. Takeaway quote:

But in 1985 you could stand alone in the middle of Washington Street surrounded by this all encompassing decrepitude, almost post-apocalyptic in its emptiness, and you’d find yourself saying, “This is fantastic. This is unreal.” There was a kind of perfection in that moment. But at the same time, you knew that it was a lie. That people were dying of AIDS, people were strung out on drugs, and buildings were crumbling.