Berlin – 3rd time [lucky] and final working day

DAY 3 [this was written at 9.50AM - before starting work, so, technically, I'm not cheating]

Did not want to get up this morning at all… post-dance-class-morning-I-am-an-actor-not-a-dancer- aches. Felt stressed out about applications for everything, technically this is a holiday, a working one, I really wanna concentrate on what I’m doing…and lo-and-behold doing a dance class does just that, focuses the mind [to try and get the steps right – achieved more-or-less on day 2] focuses the body [trying to get the steps right] and weirdly relaxes me.

Then straight in to development in the big space today… did some puke actions, read through some pre-existing mental illness inspired texts by Drew [of which there seems to be a lot] and generally worked very productively for 3 hours. The plan was to go see a Christmas market, do some work and then go to Chris’ for a dinner party, come home, satiated and then, sleep…

This is how the afternoon/evening/morning planned out [I mention morning dear reader, coz that is all you is getting outta me... yeh bouy]…

Did some work, responded to some emails, wrote some Charlie Chaplin musical [yes, another current project] then, alas, fell asleep watching a cartoon – an all too familiar event in the life of me. It’s not a regression thing, I have liked cartoons ever since I can remember, they have been a constant, I’m not trying to re-live my kid-hood… I just love em, I love watching larger than life and colour muscled-bound men and women beating each other up in far flung locations… it’s always superheroes, and I always think if they were live action, they would all totally get banned from prime-time TV, let alone Saturday mornings. I digress…

Woke up in time, power shower, then to Christopher’s for a wondrous chick-pea curry in the company of 2 Germans, an Aussie and two South Africans [one resident of Berlin, since 1983 I was informed and one a previous resident of Portugal]… and me, English via Glasgow, in a city that I wish I had more time to truly explore.

on his couch of wonder

The boys share my penchant for coloured glassware [big plus point] and we topped off the evening first in a gay-bar entitled Drama, where the smoking got too much, and the drama, Dahling, was far too obvious [the server slid our menus too us with an au-fait flick of the wrist and pouted lips, that really, made me feel a little more sick than the cigarette smoke], residing finally in Rausch Gold [gold rush – translation – I believe is a brand of poppers, so, this bar was certainly more subtly named] for the duration of the eve. Rausch Gold is covered in xmas decs, gold stars with many a person’s name [someone called Sally features a heck of a lot, and cindy and lindy and... the dreamgirls: you know you’re in a gay-bar now] and velveteen drapes. Glorious, just how mama intended… glittery, glamourous and covered in drag queens, oh, and a working train set in the window.

And yes, I had company, and, yes we stayed until later, and yes… the rest, is sadly now [as I write this from an uncomfortable changing bench in Tanzfabrik dancer’s changing room]… history.

DAY 4

Slept badly, always is the way…

So managed to avoid getting a fine… travelling with a native german speaker on the one day they check my ticket was very fortunate indeed, it turns out you actually need to stamp your ticket at the station you started at, as well as simply buying the thing, who’d a thunk it??? And wonderfully, because I went unchecked on my other days, I don’t need to pay for any travel for the duration of my trip, and I can be a good samaritan to a starving australian, glorious… incidentally Berlin’s underground is way more stylish than London’s… check out these interiors:

yeah, that is the fabric on the seats... awesome

Dance class today was truly amazing. I actually felt like a dancer a] because on a third day of the same routine, one, even one as mal-coodinated as me, should know the routine and b] our teacher finished the sequence with my signature b-boy breakdance freeze [everyone should have one, mine is standing on my shoulder, legs in the air akimbo - sexy it is]. Honest to god the feeling of achievement, erm, achieved was incredible, i actually had a wee cry in the “warm-down” segment post class – the tears merged with all my sweat, so no one saw…

Found a desk on the street [for Chris' house - man after my own heart] post class, and post a bizarre encounter with a very abrasive woman from Tanzfabrik [i hate to generalise, but I'm gonna - german sensibility is very precise and efficient, to a point, at times, of, well, rudeness - there's certainly not the airs and graces of British converse]. Lunch again at Amici Amici, best pizza ever… and so cheap… then back for rehearsal.

The project is entitled at this stage as “tell me I am beautiful”… it’s an exploration of modern therapy and Chris and I will be working on it over the next year, both performing: me writing, him choreographing… a good show it will eventually be. Finding a kinship in a man I barely know is very very comforting indeed, trash theatre bitches unite…

Tourist I moved on to… waving goodbye to the boys, I hopped on the U-Barn to what I can surmise is the gallery district around Auguststrasse… Went to C/O Gallery [expensive entry]  with a retrospective of Peter Linderbergh, famed fashion photographer: interestingly he is current embroiled in a civil dispute with one of the models whom agreed to have the shots used in Vogue, but never as part of an exhibition… and weirdly at the opening she was totally cool with it all but decided a month later that she was pissed, allegedly because she was informed she could make a buck or two in disputing… my point being that several photos were hanged featuring her, but were simply white covered frames when I saw them, her absence was tangible and people were trying to look over, under, through the sheets to see the photos, nowhere to be seen…

we look more, sometimes, for what is not there, than what is clearly right in front us… a big fat nothing, however much we want it to be…something

Anyhow, it was cool to see some massive shots of supermodels, and the retrospective of another photographic great Fred Herzog. Next, and where I currently reside, was the KW gallery with a huge, exhbition of Absalon, an artist cut short in his prime [only 28] who’s architectural sculptures blew me the hell away. Utterly magic.

interior at the KW institut, tackiest and best staircase ever

I will miss this city. Tomorrow is proper tourist day, after final dance class then Flugzeug to London… wish me luck for the flight

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