Die Bärliner takes a look back at the history of the factory, BCB’s beloved art space. From its opening in 2013, it has been a home to studio and performing arts courses, served as a stage for student theater productions, hosted festive events, and been a haven for practicing arts students looking for a quiet
The Acoustic Commons
Every Sunday, and every day between 22:00 and 6:00, Berlin is peacefully quiet, or is at least supposed to be, yet sounds remain. Some recklessly, and some with permission. Construction halts, but the birds step in to fill the empty sonic space. Trams hum. Outside my window voices carry on. I wake up many a
“The Game is Not Over” An Immersive Performance with BCB Professor, Clare Wigfall
I only ever knew Clare Wigfall’s work on paper, so seeing my former creative writing professor read a story, microphone in hand, lit up in the far corner of the lowered stage, I was struck by the realization that creating a story could exist outside of just writing one. “What makes a story?” I thought,
What can I do you for: A Guide to Berlin’s English Book Spots
Berlin is fondly known for its thriving international culture amid traditional German establishments. Moving here two years ago, I knew I would be able to find books in English, but it took me a while to feel out Berlin’s literary scene well enough to know where to wander for a book that would interest me.
Multimedia Performance: Walking in the Shadows of Giants
“We walk in the shadows in giants,” I tell my friend Laila, before realizing that this isn’t the phrase. It’s ‘stand on the shoulders of giants,’ isn’t it? I don’t think they noticed. Either way, the accidental adaptation is a fitting one for what we’ve just witnessed—a multi-media spoken word event in which the two
Leonardo
There were new points of pain now, the body speaking verses so decisive and dense, Claudia could no longer understand the sensation. It was not a knot in the belly or a blinding headache—no, it was aches occupying the edges of words and images, unrefined and unpronounceable. Some afternoons when the winds were not so
Monsoon
The vast flood Rolls onward But yield yourself, And it floats you upon it – Ikkyū Sōjun, tr. R. H. Blyth The first drops were sweet against his hands. They tapped at him gently, first at his wrist, then his shoulder, then his face, as though to get his attention. He had expected them; the
Even the Clean Ones are Unclean
It’s that time of summer: when everyone’s everywhere doing everything when days are longer, happinesses stronger when the green grass looks like it’s been told I-love-you. Six past six o’clock. Evening. The sun is effulgent, the wind mildly turbulent. At a field, around a neighborhood, in Berlin, on a sunny summer Sunday, three friends meet