LIVE TEXT ~in works/gradually edited

Artist are creative people with depth, and classically known to be more sensitive people, occasionally extremely sensitive as well, so of course the environment, weather for resting or creating, is of alpha omega importance for most artists especially, as well as so many other people in general.

But here everything is exactly so, that on average it first distracts, then disturbs most any artist that moves in here, and next the artist got some traumatizing experience of some unnecessary sort.

When I first met the manager in the office for an appointment to check the place out and possibly get a studio, he showed me the quiet office floor as the first thing. It was very empty looking, smaller than most of the other floors with just 9 studios sharing commonspace, and only 5 studios were actively occupied. There was a German man named Andy Korb in the very first room by the floor-entrance, a marketing man, working mainly with events involving new and/or small fashion designers, musicians and other showbusiness. He is the former Scorpions manager, and one of the architects who were part of the big project of restoring the historical harbour town up north, named Stralsund. Now he was doing a project with power coffe products, and the merchandise was standing outside the door of his studio, representing some of his occupation.

In the next room was a fashion designer making some punk looking clothes out of 2nd hand things. She was one of those Russians who, in my impression, have those facial features that slightly resemble the persian cat-face.

The following room had a voluptuous French girl named Hedwige, who was passionate about working with food. She was the more pleasant one, meaning her social behaviour did not feel egoist oriented. She worked in some kitcheen every day, and in her spare-time painted mainly goth’style images, out of which she made some posters, postcards and stickers.

… I was always very kind to the manager, feeling sympathy, seeing him like a somewhat sensitive, creative, fun-loving, a spacy-mind full of weird ideas.

Some move out after just a few months, as their work flows and energies feel too disturbed residing in this environment, while others typically just don’t have the paperwork needed to officially get a normal living space, weather because of alternative life-style and/or just arrived in Berlin from another country, so they hold on to the things they like in the house, like some other people, or just the fact that you have a whole cruise ship sized space of social life right outside your door including a kantina on the top 8th floor, where there’s also a big event space for exhibitions, live performances,  jams, workshops etc.

The owners of the buildinng are a jewish handful of three men from istael, of which one became a fan of an artist who got the idea of a very moving (both positive and neggative) installation type of success ~by making this so called installation of the late Ariel Sharon, who was too much like Adolf Hitler to call this a good success. This Ariel Sharon was kept artificially alive after his death in the hospital in israel, for 8 years according to a video on youtube,  apparently it took a long time before the obsessed part of the nation was finally able to let their “hero” go.

So this artist basically got a hospital bed, and recreated the hospital situation for his installation idea, had a wax-doll looking version made of the dead Ariel Sharon, sort of bringing him back into life, so that surely some rich fanatics would come to reward this work, which all the while at the same time is provokatively horrifying the traumatized victims with this resurrection of a mass murderer who committed massive genocide, just like  Adolf Hitler for example.

A rich jewish man did buy this installation from the artist, and this gullible artist, an original happy-go-lucky, asked the rich man who owns big properties in Hamburg and some in Berlin as well, if he could administer one for an artish-house project. The rich jewish man replied with the questioning of, if it would bring in good profits, and of course the artist promised it would. And this is how the artist got this huge office building, without even having any propper vision, without a propper concept and a business plan. He then named the house Greenhouse Berlin, because it’s green in color, filled the house with punks, squatters, international hustlers of all sorts, dealers of cheap hard drugs, a few real artists, and in general overloading the whole premises with heeps of people burdening everyone with their constant leaching on anyone and everyone, for anything and everything.

Here’s a short video depicting the installation • https://youtu.be/InTerLeaVed

Yes, Ironic as it may seem, of course some rich man out there was fanatic enough about Ariel Sharon, to yes buy the installation, and provide the idea-maker of it with a building for his artist house idea ~which is now this big green abys of a huge old office building, where most of the artists live within their studios illegally, as the business »GHB« is only taxed for renting out work-spaces.

This illegal artist project feels bound to fall as the disaster that it is. But rather for being an abys like environment with a negative energy and so on, that for being an incorrect business (cheating the taxations).

But for the people residing in it, hopefully the place will change for the better enough to do the turnaround from disturbing abys full of traumas, to a place that will inspire, motivate and lift, rather than just falling as the abys with a bad loop energy thing going on that it is right now as this is beng written. Because seen from an outsiders eyes, it is a great space, a space providing much opportinity …

Meanwhile the management is extremely lousy, it is utterly stupid and ignorant. They treat people without respect, they do everything without level, so far most of all the opportunity theis great building offers, is being greatly wasted.

Instead of actually creating a real artist house that really is a good environment for artists, they just let it become a traumatizing place by starting out with giving the 7th floor, a gigantic open wide space, to a fellow jewish friends daughter from israel for free, who was suppossed make a big project there and filled the huge place with some 30 people mainly consisting of punks and squatters, atleast half of them italian,  and all on hard drugs. And of course those developing months of this verderb on the 7th floor revealed, that this israeli girl herself was messed up on drugs. These people never really went away, as the Bonobo appeared, run by an italian who’s very own daughter had hard drug problems as well, and this junkie crowd was welcome there in Bonobo cafe lounge, and for many months they sort of squatted there. When a young Czech installation artist named Karima came into helping to run the filthy dirthy ugly Bonobo lounge, it got cleaned up uite a bit and they got pretty much rid of all those junkie squatter types, leaching on the whole place and everyone. But alot of them just somehow spead out up into the entire house.

Winter 2016 a strange death incident happened, where a man who would come with his dog and hang out with some people in the house quite alot,  eventually died there having taken mushrooms and drinking a beer with a very young romanian girl named Patricia, who was having a hard drugs problem, and turned out to have had carefully opened some of the beers in the Bonobo bar, where she was one of the volunteers living there, and had put drugs in those beers perfectly reclosed them and put them back in the fridge, from where they were for sale.

And only more disgraceful and more shocking sht’ was it, when a girl died here of ghb, in early 2017, and the first reaction of the older manager-guy, (artist and proud father to a girl) was asking, Was She Naked!?

And when some other artist girl got traumatizingly frustrated in some crazy wild floor here, and desperately went to the office, laying out with the line; I’m Gonna Kill Myself … the managing  woman interrupted her by saying; Just please do it somewhere else, dont do it here! …and the only reason I know this story is because the other mannager is her husband, who came so often to our floor in private, sharing his stories and dark humor.

And and and …

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