Graffiti and Street Art from Around the World: Dresden, Germany [4 of 4]

Graffiti and Street Art from Around the World: Dresden, Germany [3 of 4]

Graffiti and Street Art from Around the World: Dresden, Germany [2 of 4]

Graffiti and Street Art from Around the World: Dresden, Germany [1 of 4]

It's my Birthday!

So I'm writing this from the Kangaroo Stop in Dresden - but if all goes well, it should be December 13th right now, and if everything really is going well, I should be in South Africa - and still alive.

Wouldn't it be eerie if I wasn't alive, and my blog was still set to update for the next two weeks? Well we'll just hope that isn't the case. I am quite fond of life - I want to live forever, you understand. Like Captain Jack. But without the giant face stretching.

Anyway - I am assuming that I will be away from the internet for the next three weeks or so. In that time, rather having a blank blog, I have decided to upload all of the graffiti pictures I've been shooting through the latter half of Europe. So be prepared for a flood of street art goodness.

Also - be prepared for three weeks of back entries, or however I choose to manage my African tales, once I return.

But enough of that - keep your eyes peeled, the updates will be happening soon.

Now, I think I'll sit back, be glad I'm off a two day flight, and enjoy my chronological transition between twenty six, and twenty seven. My - am I that old already?

Well - I'm not really, because I'm still twenty six, and still a good three weeks away from my birthday - but... well... you know.

The Dodo's Live in Dresden

That Slaughterhouse Five medallion – it haunts me! It haunts me still!

I woke up, showered, and headed out. I headed right back to the same slaughterhouse, intent on finding the little medallion in the ground. I passed the same green striped building, the same biking ampelmann, the same erotic car wash sign, and the same park. I arrived back at #6 Messering with knowledge of what I was looking for. I – failed.

And it's not that I just kind of failed, I failed gloriously. I hopped under security checks, I ran around in “should have been locked” areas, and I made sure to check the whole perimeter of the building. And still – I found nothing. Nothing. Not a single sign that there was a little numbered medallion in the ground.

But I know it's there. It must be. This is worse than geocaching. At least they give you hints for that!

But after an hour, what could I do? I had to head back. I came close, and saw more than most of the internets pointed towards. So I didn't feel at a total loss – and walking back, I was treated to the low sun illuminating the brightly coloured glass dome of what looks like it should be a church, but has a sign indicating it's a restaurant.

And then I walked up the pedestrian strip north of the river, watching as all the christmas booths were set up. Christmas is no small deal in Germany. Every town has a Christmas market, and Dresden is said to have the best. So – like so many other times in this trip – I'm missing it by one day. It will official open only a few short hours after I board the train bound towards Hannover – where I'll meet with someone I met way back in Helsinki.

Still – I saw the set up. I can imagine crowds of people, and bright lights, and stalls and stands that are open, rather than boarded shut. It's practically the same! Right?

But no – there will be no Dresden Christmas town for me.

From there I made my way back in the direction of the hostel, but did not stop when I got close – no. I had to head towards Sax Tickets. This is the ticket booth in North Dresden that you might remember existing back in the eighties and early nineties. The place where you'd go and buy all your concert tickets, and perhaps line up outside of for the big shows.

It's lovely not having to pay service fees, or handling charges, or anything of that nature. Nope – you just walk in, hand over your thirteen euro, thirty cents, and walk out with your brand spaking new, hand written, ticket to The Dodo's later on that night.

Once again – I have no idea what this band is, or what they are about – but a show is a show, and it has been a long time since I've thrown myself into one concert after the next. Germany seems like a fitting place to see a marathon of American bands, right? Nothing strange about that.

On the way back, I bought some nutella and bread. Chocolate sandwiches would be my dinner. As would the second terrifying tuna pizza. Two for two euro – it seemed like such a deal when I thought that it was ground beef. But it was not. And it would not be this time either.

So much like Michelle Tanner, I discovered that tuna, no matter how much you may love it, does not combine well with other favourites. In my case: pizza. In hers? Ice cream. You'd think I was coming out ahead in this comparison – but after all, she was but an infant. And fictional.

The few hours leading up to the show were spent in a flux of trying to figure out my plans for tomorrow – would I stay an extra night in Dresden, or would I head over to Hannover? I hadn't heard back from my contact there, and if I wanted to stay here I'd have to book soon. But right at the deadline I received an email. A flurry of back and forth replies ensued. And that was that – off to Hannover.

I cried a little when I saw how much this would cost. And was slightly annoyed by the fact that it would put me in Leipzig for a change over, but not one long enough to even poke my head out and look around.

Then it was off to the show – with much less confusion, and missed street cars this time.

The opening act was named Megafaun. When I saw them, I wondered how long it would take for them to notice me in the crowd. You see, they all looked like me. My size, shaggy hair, beards. And the beard respect is something that is ingrained in all of us hairy beasts. A nod at times, a quick word. Think of it as a secret club – I hear tall girls have one too.

As it turned out, it took no longer than them to start their first song before they saw me, gave me a shout out from stage, and then began playing their set.

Their music was – well, lets just say it was different. It reminded me a little bit of Moxy Fruvious, and a little bit of something that should be found on the soundtrack for Firefly. There was one moment where the lead singer/bassist found a sound he liked, locked it in, and then proceeded to play with it using his laptop for a good three minutes. Normally I'm not sure if this would be a good thing – but, in this case, it worked really well.

After their set, I chatted with them, and they said they play at Lee's Palace every now and then. I'll have to keep my eyes open for them whenever I get back to Toronto.

Next up was the Dodos. This was the band we came to see, and for the first few minutes I wasn't sure that that was really such a good idea. Their opening song left a little something to be desired, but as the set went on, I found myself moving towards the front of the crowd and getting, quite literally, lost in the music. When the show ended and we were talking about what songs we liked, it dawned on me that I hardly remembered any of them at all.

The music itself was a continuous wall that managed to block me from – well, any other thoughts. And for that hour and a half, I was grateful to have it. But, much like last night, and every night, these things end.

Streetcar back, hostel entered, night over. Dresden days are done.

However – before I went to sleep for the night I grabbed a good load of media from one of the guys laptops. All sorts of movies were copied over onto my three empty memory cards: The Bourne movies amongst them – which I've been told I should have watched ages ago. And more than I can actually remember.

There were a number of tv shows that I could have grabbed as well. It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia would have been a key one – however, I opted to spend a full card and a half on a show that would fill me with all sorts of nostalgic pride, and terrible terrible memories. That show? Spider-man: The Animated Series. Not the old terrible one, not the new terrible one, but the middle one. The middle one, where the art was solid, and the voice acting was - well, clever at any rate.

And once I watch through seasons 1 through 4 I can finally watch the clone saga that I never caught on television back in the day.

Hey – I am going to have a good long time on boats, and planes, and other such things. I need something, yeah? Well – maybe not. I didn't really watch all that many movies on my laptop thus far, but... when the time comes, I'll be glad for it. Plus – at eighteen minutes an episode? That's a good quick fix.

Watch that crazy red eyed lizard go!

Daultingly Delightful Dresden Day

Today was a day of waking up, trying to get into the good shower before it was taken – failing – and then waiting. Sure there were four other showers but, you know – I'm North American and we're not down with the group lovin' unless, I'm told, it's at a gym. But I do my best to stay away from such things. Feel free to go yourself, “but it has television!” well so does my house.

So after the shower, I was about to head out – when I asked one of the guys in my room, if he wanted to wander down to try and find Slaughterhouse 5 with me. As he was a fan of the book (I really should read it, I know – I know,) he decided that, yes, that would be a fantastic use of time. So off we went. We didn't really have all that much to go on. We had the little bits of information I posted in the previous post about how to successfully get there. But it was enough. It just, you know, took a bit longer than it should have.

Wandering down across the bridge to the other side of the Elbe I came across a sign advertising an “Erotic Car Wash.” I do not know what this is. I did not check the web link. But, this is Germany, and I assume that it's exactly what you think it is – whatever you may think it is.



I found myself looking at yet another Ampelmann, this one has a bicycle. And then we were nearly at the Slaughterhouse. We thought. Well according to the directions I had.

Now, when we got to the area we started to search for the medallion that the Let's Go website told us marked the spot. We came up with nothing. Not a single thing. So we kept walking, searching, kicking leaves out of the way, and cursing the man in the security booth who we assumed would not be happy with our furthered exploration within the barred off zones.

So continue to search we did.

I went around the side of the building, and discovered that people in East Germany do not speak English as many of their west German counterparts do. This did not aid the search.

“I found it! I found it! I think...” came a call, drawing me back to where we had begun our search. The sign with historical information about the slaughterhouse on one side, and a quote from Vonnegut's classic novel on the other was discovered. On this sign there was also a picture of the slaughterhouse. And there, in front of us, was said building, mostly blocked off by the sports academy and conference centre today.

But there it was.

And I thought just one thing: “Time to get closer.”

This is a common thought of mine, and one that bothers a number of my fellow travellers. Especially when we end up, conceivably, trespassing in foreign countries. But, hey, when would we be back this way again? So through the Sports Academy we wandered, to the back of the track ring. There was a fence blocking us from the actual building – and while I still wanted to get closer, that would have only been to touch it. We were in the area best suited for photographs, so why risk ripping my only pair of pants, in an attempt to jump the fence?

Pictures taken, it was time to leave. Still – we'd not seen the medallion. Perhaps it was just the sign that they meant? Perhaps one replaced the other?

There would be time to look into this later. So back to the hotel we headed, taking only one moment to grab a delicious durum doner.

Back at the hostel I was told about a show tonight by the Silversun Pickups. I'd never really heard of them before, but youtube provided me with a sample or two, and I figured, why not go see a show in Germany – what else do I have going on tonight? Torchwood?

So my next stop was off to Sax Tickets where thirteen thirty euro would get me into the show. It's nice buying tickets in a place where the full cost is less than what Ticket Master would charge for a service fee back home. They need to be stopped. Someone do something! But not me, I'm lazy.

And then it was just a matter of filling time before we headed out at seven thirty. This was done with a pizza purchased at Lidl. It turned out to be a tuna pizza. A German favourite. Suffice to say – mistakes were made.

Fast forward past the thirty minutes it took to have directions to the venue explained, and then the process of actually missing a tram by less than a second (my hand was on the door.) The next one would arrive fifteen minutes later.

Inside the club:
Red lights illuminate a raised stage, void of everything save for empty instruments. Rows of high school students stream in the open doors, smelling slightly of the cigarettes they just finished outside. Their empty beer bottles line brick walls, purchased cheaply at the gas station down the street – money for the collecting homeless.

Brick walls are traded for bar tables cramped for space as bottle after empty bottle clogs all available space. People stream in and out of bathrooms, mull around in cliques that form quickly, and break apart just as fast, and seem void of purpose, ambition, and direction.

Houselights fall. Elyjah takes the stage, a small German band with only a myspace page to their name. A myspace page without any music on it.

And to be honest? They sound a lot better than I thought they would. Blue lights illuminate, as they rip into music that comes hard, heavy, and fast. Three people in the crowd start to get amped up and move around. A few heads bang. But not enough.

I watch from the back of the crowd, staying far away from the gathered youth. It was a decade ago when I used to look with distrust at the late twenty somethings that made their way to the shows. What were they doing there? They didn't belong.

And so I stayed back.

The music rose and fell – everything in purple under a set up of only blue and red.

And then the music stopped. The opening act was at and end. Silversun Pickups would be out in a few minutes we were told. And against all odds, they were. Set up between acts took hardly any time at all, and just as I was starting to think I should check my watch – which I don't have – the headliners took to the stage.

And in a matter of minutes I was sixteen again, for the second time in a week. Wandering through the crowds to get closer, I let the music hit me and gave over to the head banging, stomping, and spastic movement that was beginning to surround me. A mosh pit opened up in front of me, but once more I stayed back. Tiny little creatures, these German youths.

Sweat straightened hair whipped back and forth, not nearly as much as in years past, t-shirts started to stick, and the concert was fully underway. Eyes closed, everything was considered from people I'd known, to those I'd missed, and conversations never had. The night became a moment in time, and for a matter of minutes there was only a woman playing bass on stage, despite the full band. And at times, that's all that matters. Especially when it's a Gibson Thunderbird in her hands.

Blue, Red, Yellow – flash. A bottle pressed into my hands.

As conversations never explored came to an end, I could feel the music winding down. One more big push. And into the pit I went, allowing myself to be thrown around with the older crowd that had made their way to the front for this moment. Shoes nearly lost, I remembered why we used to duct tape them on back at Warped Tour.

Encores flowed with awkward on stage banter, trying to decide if they'd ever played in Dresden before, and the night drew to a close.

Within two minutes I aged ten years; coats were grabbed, and buses were navigated.

We checked out the after party, free entry with barcode stamp on the botton of our wrist, only to find it void of life, and anyone from the show. Cards in kitchens were played. Specifically a game called [expletive that starts with an 'S']head.

I inquired to the rules, and was assured they were simple. I then had the following explained, where, until we started to play, I distrusted the assurance of simplicity.

Each player gets three cards played face down, one face up on top of each, three in their hand.

The idea is to play all your cards. But you can only play from your hand to begin with, picking up a card to replace whatever you played from your hand. When the pile of cards is gone, the real game begins.

You can only play a card that is higher than the last one played, with the following exceptions – a ten, a three, and a two can always be played. But there's more to it than that. Let us now go over the rules:

two: can always be played, and is the lowest number.
three: an invisible card – the next player must play on the card below it
seven: you must play a card lower or equal to a seven, rather than higher
eight: skip a turn
ten: clears the pile, all are discarded. You play again.
queen: reverses the playing order

Whenever you clear the deck you go again.

The deck is also cleared when all four of the same card are played in order. You can always play more than one of the same card at a time.

You can only play out of order if you can make the pile have all four of the same cards in a row, after at least one of them was played.

Your bottom three cards have to be played blind.

Last rule: before play starts, you can swap any face up card in your piles, with any card from your hand.

Yup – that's the game. And it's a good one. Play continues until there is only one loser. S/he becomes the [expletive that starts with 'S']head.

Getting to Slaughterhouse Five in Dresden, Germany

Introduction
So you want to find Slaughterhouse 5 in Dresden, Germany? That is an excellent goal. However, you may find it far more challenging than it has to be. There are many websites that may try and direct you to the site, but none of the will do a great job convincing you of what / where it is.

I have decided that I never want anyone else to have to go through the terrible reasearch that I did to try and find the site. So I have compiled all the information you need to know to get to Slaughterhouse 5.

No one else need ever ask "How do you get to Slaughterhouse Five" without receiving a concise answer.

Why Would You Want to See Slaughterhouse Five?
Slaughterhouse 5 served as a POW camp for German prisoners of war. Most notably Kurt Vonnegut was imprisoned there. He was witness to the firebombing of Dresden by the allied troops, and this experience served as ispiration for his novel named after the prison itself.

Research
Use-it map: http://www.use-it.be/europe/pdf/090326use-it-dresden.pdf
[This map points you in the gerneral direction of the Slaughterhouse, however it is off the map – and as such, only a rough guide.]

Letter to Slaughterhouse 5: http://www.iamthewitness.com/Bollyn/Bollyn-Slaughterhouse-Five.html
[This website tells you that there is a hotel over the old site – but this is not to be believed. Still, there is some information here that will point you in the generally correct direction.]

Let's Go: http://www.letsgo.com/15620-germany-travel-guides-sachsen_saxony-sachsen_saxony-sights-neustadt_new_town-c
[Let's Go tells you there is a medallion marking the spot and poitns you to #6 Messering but does nothing to point out the medallion]

YouTube Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYMqO-KzEkI
[This guy gets it mostly right too, but never actually sees the old slaghterhouse, which is too bad. It can be seen in the skyline of his red roof shots, but – that's as close as he gets.]

Nautiker on Thorn Tree responded to a question I asked and wrote the following:
as regards the plaque: Slaughterhouse Five is part of the 'gravures of war' art project, whereat important places of local war-history are marked by small steel-capsules set into the ground. each capsule contains a text consigning the 'biography' of the place. read here [http://www.dresden-1945.de/gravuren/index.htm] for more, alas it's German only. the capsules aren't designed for tourists, they look like this [http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3145/2428849482_0d6d600cfa.jpg] (Slaughterhouse Five is No. 63), so you'll probably have seen it without noticing.

How to get to Slaughterhouse Five
These directions will get you from the Neustadt Station to the site. Walk southwest on Antonstraße and cross the Elbe on Marienbrucke. At the end of the bridge, make a right, and then cross under the train tracks. Then make another right and you'll find yourself walking parallel to the bridge, back towards the river.

You'll come to a street crossing with Ampelmann and his bicycle. Cross over, then cross again, and you'll find yourself on Pieschener Allee. Walk down this street, passing by a giant green striped smokestack across the river, with an open green field on your left. Eventually you will come to Messering. Keep straight on.

You'll see #1 Messering to your right. Keep going. You'll notice a few things when you've reached the right location.

To your left you'll see a big green hill – you can climb that for a good view of the lots. You'll also notice you just passed a sports academy. This is #4 or 5. You'll notice you're standing between #5 and #7 Messering. I am yet to find a sign saying Messering #6. But that's Messer Dresden. There's a statue in front of it, and there's a security gate to stop cars.

Another thing that will tell you you're in the right spot is seeing the ruins of the Slaughterhouse itself. This can be best viewed from the Sports Academy. This may also seem obvious, but how can you tell if that's the right building? Turn around. See the bus stop? See the raised ground behind it? There's a sign there. It has two sides. Side one has the history of the Slaughterhouse in German, and the other side has a quote from Vonnegut's novel. The history side has a picture of the building for all to see.

You will also notice at this point that you could have taken the #75 bus all the way here.

The Slaughterhouse
I would recommend yo walk down into the Sports Academy, passed the tennis courts, to the track ring. This will offer you the best views of the Slaughterhouse. The meat freezer that Kurt Vonnegut was locked in is under the Messer Dresden building. Apparently there are tours that allow you to visit these areas for twelve euro. Some of these tour websites are hosted on wordpress though, so go at your own peril.

As for the medallion in the ground? The one with the number 63 on it? I never saw it. And I snuck past security, ran around the lots, and did my best to check for it. If you ever come across it please take a photo and send it my way, along with how to get to it.

I hope this has helped you in your quest to follow in the footsteps of Kilgore Trout. Best of luck. Hopefully this helps answer your question, "how do you get to Slaughterhouse 5."

GPS Co-ordinates: N51.06887 E013.71688

I Rather Like Dresden

All eating issues aside, I rather like Dresden. And I think I saw enough of it today to have constructed a very good understanding of the city – the way it lives, breathes, and carries on. Honestly – it's the type of city that I think I could live in. For a while anyway.

This morning, prior to the buffalo belly, I headed out to explore the city north of the river. But before I could go anywhere, I needed to shower. This hostel has five male showers. Two of them are together, two have no shower curtains, and one has a door. This hostel – to all those without European sensibilities, has one shower. Luckily it was unoccupied.

So after that time of cleansing, I was able to find cleanish clothes, and hit the streets.

Let me tell you, there is an amazing vibe North of the Elbe. That's a city with life. There are small shops, surplus shops, arty shops, and wall after wall covered in some of the best graffiti you will ever see. There's an entire car lot where the trees, the poles, the very ground itself becomes a living canvas, coming to life with each new artist's addition.

And strangely enough, one of them was of Dexter, from his eponymous laboratory. I'd not thought of him in ages, until yesterday's Dee Dee reference.

The streets here breathe. And once you leave the graffiti behind, you enter a district where the facts of houses have been turned into art pieces by the residence. Since the fall of the wall, the people have been taking the city back from the GDR ways, adding colour and spice where only grey strength and unity were placed before.

Here's a disconcerting thought for you: You know how you feel young right now – as if everything is new, and the past is just a backlog of stuff? A collection of memories – but all old, and gone – whereas you're in the present, looking towards the future with plans and thoughts and ideas of what to do? You know how you feel as if who you were years ago wasn't really you, and you're finally at that stage where you're grown and ready to embrace what you have planned for? Well – you're going to feel that way the day before you die too.

Disconcerting.

Like when the best ice cream store in Dresden is closed, due to it being Monday – that doesn't even make sense to me.

After wandering up and down and through the living city, I realized that I had to eventually leave it. I had to say goodbye to the urban expanse that I so loved, and cross down to the south of the river. I just wouldn't be a proper tourist if I didn't check out everything that was going on over there. On the plus side, this did mean a brief walk along the path beside the moving water. But then there was backtracking, and windy bridge crossing, and trying to make my way over to the main part of the city.



Just across the bridge I found myself in the main tourist square. It was here that I glimpsed the Ontario: Canadian Steakhouse. And, well – we all know how that turned out. Still – the buffalo burger? Very tasty – and with fries and onion rings, it really wasn't all that over priced at 10 euro 90. I mean, I wouldn't have been able to justify that price earlier on in my trrip – but you'd hardly pay more for something of that size, at that type of restaurant back home. And, you know, again – it was delicious!

So there I was, cold, stuffed, and aware the the sun was sinking – standing on the wrong side of the river. Well I still had a few more things I wanted to see, so off I pressed. Yup, there was the domed building, and there was the old church, and I think that is the castle, and over there is probably the theatre-whatever. Inside there's some porcelain. And, oh look, it's a jousting arena. Just like in that movie with that guy who played Joker and then offed himself. Ahh jousting. If only they were on ostriches, in space, and could fly.

[random interruption: “When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed. Say something once, why say it again?” - I agree Talking heads, I agree ]

So then off to see the nymph statues, and wander around on top of the public square, getting lost, and not knowing how to get down. Oh look – it's the group of Canadians again. Good for them, How can I justify the school board to send me on free trips? That sounds like a good idea. I'll have to talk to some of these international group teachers at some point.

From that point on, I had kind of seen everythign that Dresden had to offer. Sure there will be more random street walking, and more paths explored, and some parks to the south that I want to check out – not to mention the walk out of town to see Slaughterhouse Five – but none of these things could be done now. There was just one more thing to check off.

You may recall Ampelmann from Berline – well, here in Dresden, in one crossing only, he has been replaced by the Ampelfrau. Ah yes, she is a plucky lady who is willing to tell you just what is what, and ordering you around: walk now, stop walking, ok fine – continue to wak. Ys her word is law. It seems such a shame that the two will be forever separated in their own distinct crossings. Perhaps someone will join them together. I just had a terrible vision of rule 34.

Well, having seen that, and then briefly examining the shopping area, I was convinced that that was all I could do – plus, you know, I needed a nap. So rather than walking my wayback, I hopped on the streetcar, and rushed on back home.

I attempted to recreate the settings that placed the world in perfect order last night, but they failed – as right they should. The world was in perfect order last night, today there are slight deviations.

So, with the day being done, and ten thirty falling upon me (quite earlier than the three in the morning from yesterday) I will head off to leep.

As a final note, I'll let you know that I had my clothes washed today. I should have enough to get me through the next week, and a spare set for the flight home. All on the plane will rejoice at this news.

It's strange handing over your clothes, and being told they'll be washed – not actually doing it yourself. But, hey, who am I to complain? All is right and well. And tomorrow – well tomorrow I'll sleep in. Especially if it's raining. And that? That will be lovely.

[authors note: a group of Aussies and a Canadian girl are chatting across from me. By this point in my travels I can tell who will sleep with who within about a minute of the conversation starting – 85% accuracy. So why all the games? You don't care about what opera he saw – he doesn't care about what you bought for your ex (note the stressing when you mention eeeeeeeeeeeeex) boyfriend. Enough with the games. Just make your excuse, leave the third guy behind – or well, you know, and get on with it. Kids today.]