I always have the same reaction when a building crops up where I live: "That building went up so quickly. When did that happen?"
I start to miss the overgrown plot of land, because I've grown so accustomed to looking at it. Slowly watching nature take over.
But since construction has broken ground, I can't for the life of me tell you what that plot of land looked like before.
The details have vanished from my memory. And one thing is for sure: I'd rather mindlessly stare at an empty lot, instead of an unweathered construction.
That's how I came to photograph the street behind Berghain: Rüdersdorfer Straße.
To me, the new building represented the gentrification of Friedrichshain.
The street a microcosm of Berlin in 2019. That summer there was a protest down Warschauerstraße (just a few blocks away) against the increasingly unaffordable rent prices. Those demonstrations were successful, and a law went into effect in October to freeze rent for five years.
I found the photos I used to create the panorama in an unmarked file. A project I had shelved for a later date.
I wish I had captured more – like the back gate entrance to Kantine and the Bierhof Rüderdorfs sign that stood there. But I can't go back in time and will have to live with this imperfect portrait of a street. There are a few details I love: a well-behaved dog off-lease, two mobikes and a jump bike, the Aldi, the faint mercedes benz symbol, the metro sign, the getting denied by (or hours spent in) Berghain walk of shame