The possibilities of travelling through time in colour.

Nothing feels more real at times, that the awareness of an other time. While in science labs, the possibility of time travel might still be in its working stages, the experience is not entirely impossible in the everyday. All it takes is context. Marinated in history, clouded in the ashes of ideology and financially running on a very strict diet, Berlin is one of those cities, where the probability of such journeys is still relatively high thanks to some of the buildings which shape its sky line. One such vessel in time is the “Versuchsanstalt für Wasserbau” or Berlin Model Basin (VWS).

Its exterior façade, a giant pink pipe penetrating a grey cube, resembles a model of the inside of a flushing system, super sized. Constructed in 1976 as a physical basin to carry out hydrodynamic and navigational engineering tests to improve the design of ship models, the building was shut down in 2004. An architectural innovation in its day, it was admired for its purely Functionalist principles. Function is the priority, form follows. Yet as time passes and function becomes obsolete, the roles begin to reverse, it seems.

Although no longer in official use, the building’s life-support comes from the neighbouring university research projects and a few permanently stationed white-haired boys. Their constant presence makes them blind perhaps to certain particularities of the structure which immediately jump at 2011, monochrome-accustomed eyes. The place is drenched in colour. Pink pipes, yellow cables, green heaters, orange wires, red machines and I was back in 1976, in something simultneously simulating a scientists’ playground and an ambitious sci-fi movie set. Although I initially set out to appreciate the technological work inside, I found it hard to trust machines dressed so colourfully. Would more respect be payed, if it were concrete or stainless steel? I wondered.

And why pink for the exterior? Urban legend has it that the City’s Planning and Development Office, concerned about the effects on the city’s skyline, were against the original pink proposal. It was decided that the construction would be carried out in the official colour of the VWS, blue. The blue turned out to be unstable however, and like disappearing ink, faded over time, reverting back to its original. Whether this was really the case or simply architecture student gossip is debatable. Although it seems unlikely that architect Ludwig Leo, whose philosophy was strictly Functionalism, would commit to such an artistic intervention, our guide did offer a more pragmatic answer to the query: “The pipe is covered with insulation and pink was the cheapest.”, the colour, it seems, not only serves to reflect the technologies of the time, but also the time itself.

If you find the idea of space travel more appealing however, you don’t need to go further than your wrist watch, the design of which is pretty much based on the measuments of the solar system, compressed. A mini pocket universe, avaliable at all times, sounds cooler than an iphone, almost.

Techno Ate My Brain. Thank You Mum!

Ever since moving to Techno capital I’ve had a problem with going home.
It seems that here the club always wins. I was quite happy in the UK, the set would finish, the club would close and, of course there were the initial moans of not wanting to leave, but those quickly passed as I knew it was the end. In Berlin it’s a different story.

The clubs here adhere to a different set of rules. There is no specific closing time. The club closes when the last person leaves. It’s potentially infinite. So you have to be quite disciplined and remember to leave at some point. Now this could be quite dangerous for those with a hedonistic streak, those who cannot discipline themselves. But the reasons cannot just be tied down to wanting to stay out. There must be a deeper understanding of this phenomena and its effects on the brain. So what it is about the nature of the clubbing scene here that is so infecting? Lets talk about techno.

I decided to look into this matter after fruitless attempts at googling such phrases as “the influence of techno music on the brain”, “repetition in techno and the brain” etc etc which left me frustrated. Most of the writing tells the same old story; it’s the drugs, drink and smoke, blah blah blah. This doesn’t paint a very good a picture of the clubbing scene. And for gods sake, can we please abandon this “clubs are all about drugs” stereotype. Thousands of people attend clubs, travel continents to go to festivals, dance for hours – the appeal must be more than just substance abuse. Techno is actually a very delicate and intelligent form of music. Do you know anyone who can listen to salsa music for 15 hours and not get bored?* This is what fascinates me about techno. The potential depths its infinite nature offers (Black hole anyone?)

So I’ve been in Berlin for a few months now, and as I said before, I am still struggling with the going home issue. But at Melt festival I had a bit of a revelation (and it did come when the sun was rising, a very appropriate pathetic phallacy my Literature teacher would say. Ok its a bit cheesy but revelations are always beautiful, especially when the sun comes out.). I realised I never want to go home because the music doesn’t let me. Techno is based on repetition. Its constant beat grabs hold and doesn’t let you go. While most music is linear, say a rock song with lyrics or a symphony, ie it has a start, middle and an end, techno tracks are built on another measuring scale. They are building blocks in a potentially never ending set which oscillates, grows, diminishes, breathes, but in theory can go on forever, and ever and ever. That is because repetition is endless. It is a different dimension. Under the influence of techno time ceases to exist, you enter a different reality where there is no start or finish. What dimension it is, I don’t know, but it definitely has a very strong hypnotic power on the brain. Not everyone likes the constant banging of course.

According to my mum, it is highly dangerous for your mental health. “If I listen to it for longer than 10 minutes I’ll go mad.” Hey Mum, did you never think it was you who first infected me with the techno beat? Being in your womb for 9 months and listening to the constant beat of your heart, must have left some sort of techno imprint in my brain.! So those who enjoy it, probably find they have similar problems. It is like a love-hate relationship, which is easy to develop, based on the never satisfying pleasure which techno provides, as you crave more and more and more…

But as with all forms of intelligent music, techno has a very strong healing factor I believe. For me it is my meditation, my exit from reality and thoughts and worries of every day (it is also my gym. Dancing for 10 hours once or twice a week beats any gym goer, I’m sure. Tests should be carried out accordingly. Those interested please get in touch). In the presence of techno, the mind becomes free as the repetitive beat switches something in the brain and puts you into a state of trance. A direct relationship between the beats and the body follows. I love dancing to techno because I do not dance consciously, my body sort of moves by itself, it feels the beat and it feels as it there is no bypass between the music (which enters the ears) and the brain. It’s a direct route from ear to muscle. Nietzche did say that music is the most direct form of art, precisely for this reason. That the brain doesn’t get involved. There is no thoughts, just feelings. Try it, it can be revelationary experience (particularly if you are on 2 hours sleep and have been dancing for about 10 hours and the sun comes out) but don’t forget to go home.

*I do not intend to offend salsa music, or any kind of music in any way. I simply use it as a comparison, between linear and non-linear types of sound. You have to admit, 15 hours of salsa would be a b it of an overdose...