Cornelia Brelowski: Museum, interrupted – Of purple carpets and red flags

TEXT & PHOTOS: CORNELIA BRELOWSKI

During winter, museums turn into havens of warmth and contemplation to the traveller and Berliner alike. However, some red flags must be cleared upfront these days.

Recently, I was visiting one of my longtime favourites, the Gropius Bau, conveniently located near Potsdamer Platz, to see a comprehensive Diane Arbus exhibition (open until 18 January). On entering together with a friend, we were met with a poster showing a dinosaur. Now, with the Natural History Museum being at the other end of town, my mind was only peripherally concerned with its meaning, while I was happily handing in my bag and jacket.

The entry hall of the Neo-Renaissance building usually holds a piece by contemporary artists, in some cases created especially for the space. The last big solo retrospective held here was Yoko Ono’s, while I also remember earlier highlights such as Yayoi Kusama and Ai Wei Wei. However, this time the main hall was empty, except for a purple carpet.

Gropius Bau, Berlin.

The photography exhibition was easily found in one of the side galleries and met our expectations if not exceeding them. A bunch of teenagers were also there, rushing around in giggling clusters, half ogling classmates and half trying to find work titles in the catalogue. Since the exhibition is not curated chronologically, there was no way of escaping their excited, hormonal sound bubbles. I have always respected the importance in art education though, so we decided to contend ourselves with having enjoyed half of the exhibition and vowed to return another day. However, on exiting the photography display, we were met by a whole different kind of sound level, usually connected with playgrounds – that of running and squealing toddlers. They were just starting to conquer the purple floors of the main exhibition hall and while trying to shut my ears to their piercing cries, I thought: is this some kind of performance? We fled to the in-house art bookstore doubling as a museum shop, but the noise followed us right through the open doors.

Free play at the museum.

My friend promptly stomped off to speak to a member of staff in the entrance area, to find out what was happening. It turns out, what was happening was a new concept of ‘cost free play for children in the museum’. It was what? Yes, he went on, other main cultural institutions did it too – and admittedly, it got stressful at times. “But why?” we asked flabbergasted. “Is letting them run around and scream at the top of their lungs a good way of introducing kids to museums? And how does this connect them with art?” Meanwhile, a woman with a stroller was trying to get our guide’s attention, so we threw in the towel and thanked him for his time. Much bedraggled, we went to the museum’s restaurant and had a delicious plate of appetisers to make up for our disrupted visit. So, dear art lover: if you are seeking to peacefully contemplate art in a Berlin museum these days, make sure to check the offers for the little ones… and bring your earplugs!