35 eager (vaccinated, tested) concertgoers snuggled into the cozy interior of FRAMED Berlin, a cultural salon and gallery in the Friedrichshain district. Berlin’s long summer was coming to a close and couples nestled in corners, wine in hand, and closed their eyes to focus on the sparkled sounds of Spanish guitar and a soaring voice
Die Bärliner takes a look back on pieces throughout the years reflecting on the various engaging activities and sights in Pankow and wider Berlin. With summer quickly approaching and fewer COVID-19 restrictions in place, more options are becoming available for those planning to stick around Berlin for the summer months. In this archive selection, you’ll
On Saturday May 23rd, BCB’s Class of 2021 held their online commencement ceremony – congratulations! An important step for graduation is the BA thesis project, which fourth-year students work on tirelessly. This year they explored everything from art and nature, to democracy, to tragedy, to social media. In celebration of the completion of their theses
Berlin is foreign. Berlin is new. Berlin speaks to me in voices that I do not yet understand. It is loud, and alienating, and frustratingly unfamiliar. German signs and words are thrown at me left and right, clouding my surroundings and ensuring that I am merely an observer incapable of deciphering the simplest of phrases.
cherub henry and Sam Harper moved to Berlin from New Zealand via London almost eight years ago. They now both study under Hito Steyerl at Berlin’s University of the Arts. cherub also works as a sex worker. In the summer of 2019, Sam and cherub founded a series of text-based performances called drift. drift is
Die Bärliner revisits some of our favorite pieces on the topic of writing; students explore different writing processes, approaches, and why they write. From political and advocacy journalism to faculty interviews, reflections from BCB student writing tutors to creative writing in times of Covid-19 uncertainty, we invite you to look back on what our authors
I stand before a summer day. Softer, warmer, brighter than the day I’m in. Monet’s vertical canvas, the object of my looking, dissolves, and I am left in space itself. Nature can be this for the mind, a tabula rasa. Hm… I’m not frightened by the vastness, the entrance is not a jolt or a
Knead… the earth with rain, and let it fain the glaring lips of the sun. Knead the earth. Pour your mortar among molded bricks and molten sand. Knead the earth, and erect your dwellings high. For like the shrub pierces the womb and sprouts from the face of Mother, you, too, shall wreak ruin. Reign