Identifying Intersections Between Public Policy, Gentrification, and Arts Spaces in Berlin’s Neukölln District

By Ian Berman

“Berlin ist, verdammt: immerfort zu werden und niemals zu sein” trans: Berlin is a city condemned forever to becoming and never being; the city is in a constant process of transformation. – Karl Scheffler, 1910^[1] 

Berlin’s unique 20th century history—as a city with a deeply rooted countercultural and artistic tradition, which made the abrupt conversion to capitalism upon reunification in 1990—makes it a fascinating microcosm of shifting public policy approaches and new definitions of cultural consumption occurring worldwide. Neukölln presents a particularly interesting case study, as a district with a uniquely diverse cultural and economic background fighting an ongoing process of gentrification.

By the early 2000s, it had become clear that Berlin’s post-unification speculative economic boom had ended: large-scale construction projects like Potsdamer Platz and Friedrichstraße helped create 1.5 million m2 of empty office space, Berlin’s population and economy remained stagnant, and the city was on the verge of bankruptcy.^[2] Due to a range of factors—including the end of Berlin’s Federal subsidies in 1994, heightened welfare expenditures alongside an increasing unemployment rate, and decreased tax income caused by a declining GDP and simultaneous tax breaks for real estate investors—Berlin’s debt had increased from €10 billion in 1991 to €55 billion by 2004.^[3] City marketing policy during this period focused primarily on traditional symbols like museums, the Brandenburg gate, and new development projects in Mitte like Potsdamer Platz and the area along Friedrichstraße. While official policy was focused elsewhere, a new creative economy simultaneously developed beneath the city’s surface. Due in part to the relatively inexpensive cost of living compared to other large European cities and the high concentration of unoccupied spaces in the center of the city, it became possible for artists in Berlin to “survive on casual part-time employment and to operate project spaces without a stable source of funding.”^[4]

Neukölln is a district in the former West which found its northern area, often referred to as “Nord-Neukölln,” redefined as a central district after the fall of the Wall. Many of the guest workers imported to Berlin in the 1960s settled in Neukölln and worked in the district’s booming industrial sector. By 1970, the district had reached full employment and had the highest rate of industrial revenue in Berlin; by the time of reunification it was considered a “kind of respectable district” even while worker and immigrant-filled tenements like Rollbergsiedlung were generally stigmatized as ghettos.^[5] [6] Beginning in the late 1970s, many immigrants and students affected by urban renewal projects in places like Kreuzberg moved into Nord-Neukölln in search of affordable housing.^[7] Following the fall of the Berlin Wall and German reunification, Berlin went through a rapid period of deindustrialization that affected Neukölln particularly bitterly due to the district economy’s former reliance on its industrial sector. In 1997, an article appeared in Der Spiegel titled “Endstation Neukölln,” which characterized the district as an area of social decay, a hotbed of crime, and a place dominated by an unassimilated immigrant community.^[8] In Nord-Neukölln, many middle-class residents left in favor of suburban areas while immigrants replaced them. Immigrants comprised 31% of Neukölln’s population in 2001, up from 18% in 1984.^[9] By this time, the district had a 16.4% unemployment rate and a 35% vacancy rate, and it was largely ignored by city development policies.^[10] 

Methodology

My goal is to identify the interaction between artist spaces, gentrification, and public policy decisions in the context of the creative city doctrine implemented in Neukölln beginning in the mid-2000s. To try to answer this question, I conducted research in academic journals and online media and complemented this with firsthand experiences at venues throughout Nord-Neukölln, culminating in an interview with a co-founder of an arts space in the Reuter Quarter named Spektrum. I also collected firsthand observations and research online about venues  and cultural spaces in Neukölln, such as a music space called Loophole and a co-op called the Friedel 54 Kiezladen, both of which struggled with outcomes of gentrification in recent years. My academic research primarily charts the development rent prices, gentrification, and artist spaces since the mid-2000s in Nord-Neukölln. Particularly influential works were Mariko Ikeda’s 2017 essay “Artists as Initiators of Urban Transformation,” focusing on the evolution of the Reuter Quarter in Nord-Neukölln; Susanne Soederberg’s 2017 essay “Governing Stigmatised Space,” with her analysis of public housing in Neukölln and the history of the district; and Jamie Peck’s 2005 essay “Struggling with the Creative Class,” a critical response to Richard Florida’s ideology. I would especially like to thank Ares Kalandides for recommending Claire Colomb’s book “Staging the New Berlin,” which is discussed in depth in the next section.

Conceptual Framework: The Introduction of Creative City Policies in 21st Century Berlin

Over a decade after the Wall fell and Germany reunified, Berlin had been established as the country’s capital but could hardly compete with the economic strength of other European capitals like London or Paris. Following the completion of grand construction projects which helped drive Berlin into debt, the need for a reevaluation of the city’s image itself became stronger than ever.^[11] In 2001, a new “Red-Red” coalition was formed between the Social Democratic Party and The Party of Democratic Socialism (a precursor to Der Linke), with Klaus Wowereit elected as mayor. Shortly into his term in 2003, Wowereit infamously framed the city as “poor, but sexy,” informally marking the beginning of a new era of Berlin’s place branding.

In Claire Colomb’s 2012 book Staging the New Berlin, she identifies two major developments of 21st century place branding in Berlin directly relevant to ongoing shifts in Neukölln. First, the city increasingly included alternative cultural spaces outside the “traditional” realm of tourism into city marketing materials. Temporary use spaces, such as waterfront bars next to the Spree river, arts spaces in previously abandoned storefronts, or flea markets on empty lots, were now marketed as forms of urban entrepreneurship unique to Berlin.^[12] Although many of these spaces developed organically—that is, not as an intended result of city policy—they’re now a central component of Berlin’s contemporary policy approach.^[13] Second, in its 21st century city marketing, the city more often includes ethnically and economically diverse neighborhoods outside of traditional tourist areas. These neighborhoods, especially Kreuzberg and Neukölln, are increasingly marketed for their diverse populations, countercultural histories, and concentration of artists. This backdrop was newly recognized as desirable because it attracted the types of creative entrepreneurs now targeted by city marketing.^[14] 

Shifting the city’s marketing focus towards cultural producers and peripheral neighborhoods, in the process redefining the image of Berlin as a “creative city,” did not happen unconsciously. Richard Florida’s 2002 book titled The Rise of the Creative Class had a substantial impact on contemporary urban theory. A review in 2005 declared it “both an international bestseller and a public policy phenomenon.”^[15] Florida defines “creative professionals” as a new socioeconomic class, deriving from a range of fields: science, engineering, computer design, entertainment, and the arts, as well as new forms of business, finance, law, and healthcare. He argues that in the 21st century, the creative class is the most important driver of economic growth in American cities, more so than a proximity to physical resources or the construction of any architectural attraction (Bhagat).^[16] Soon after, the first study on Germany’s creative class was commissioned by the German State Department of Economics. It found that by 2005, the cultural industries were “the fastest growing sector in [Berlin’s] economy since the late 1990s,” and were growing at a higher rate relative to other German cities.^[17] Florida’s thesis seemed to directly contradict the public policy approach of Berlin during the 1990s; realizing that Berlin had all the ingredients to become a creative city, the government quickly began to reorient towards this new approach.

Applications of Creative City Policies in Neukölln

Public policy decisions in Neukölln clearly illustrate this shift in priorities. Colomb’s identification of temporary use spaces finding their way into city policy began to occur in Nord-Neukölln in the mid-2000s, encouraged by neighborhood-level activism and accomplished using a mix of city, federal, and EU-level funding. In 2002, Nord-Neukölln was identified by the city government as an “abandoned and undervalued area,” prompting the city to declare it a Quartiersmanagement (“neighborhood management”) zone.^[18] The aim of this distinction was to give residents of ethnically diverse or economically stagnant neighborhoods an element of control over their neighborhood’s political process and various community projects (Kalandides & Vaiou 257).^[19]

In 2005, a private organization named Zwischennutzungsagentur (“Temporary Use Agency”) worked in close cooperation with the Quartiersmanagement to participate in an urban development program in Nord-Neukölln. The idea was to connect landlords of the 130 empty storefronts in the area with prospective tenants, and that having these spaces in use would improve the image of the neighborhood. Between 2005 and 2007, 56 lots were rented out and more than 200 jobs were created in the Reuter Quarter alone (the Reuter Quarter is the northernmost area of Neukölln, and also the most centrally located within Berlin at large).^[20] Artists and small retail shops were connected with low-cost spaces in convenient locations, and landlords benefited because tenants often renovated their properties and contributed to the neighborhood’s cultural scene, likely increasing property values in the future. According to Kirsten Forkert’s research, throughout these years, “there were many meetings, reports and demographic surveys of artists in the area and numerous other initiatives about promoting the creative economy in Berlin, in some cases mentioning Richard Florida or reflecting his influence.”^[21] The project of revitalizing Nord-Neukölln through the use of temporary cultural spaces was thus very much a conscious decision in the wake of Florida’s creative class discourse.

Regarding Colomb’s second assertion—that Berlin’s city branding has shifted to include socioeconomically diverse areas like Neukölln—a shift began to occur in 2008 with the launch of the be Berlin city marketing campaign. It aimed to invent a new kind of city marketing campaign based on the stories of city inhabitants themselves. Citizens were encouraged to send their stories to a website, which were then picked by the marketers and deployed as advertising slogans worldwide.^[22] The first year of the campaign produced various advertisements, including two focusing on minority youths in Neukölln. One was an image of a youth worker of Arab origin, with the caption “Fadi Saad is Berlin. The city lives through people like Fadi Saad. As neighborhood Manager in Neukölln, he is changing Berlin.”^[23]  Another was an image of teenagers of Arab or Turkish ethnicity from the Rütli School in Nord-Neukölln, who were shown presenting their self-designed fashion collection.^[24] Although the vast majority of advertisements in the be Berlin campaign did not depict ethnic minorities or areas like Neukölln, the inclusion of these images signaled a remarkable shift in city marketing policy. In addition to presenting images of social or creative entrepreneurship, focus was placed on more diverse communities in Berlin, a metric key to Florida’s analysis of urban policies which attract the creative class.^[25] However, this marketing focus did not signal an increased acceptance of these communities: as recently as 2007, the district mayor of Neukölln, Heinz Buschkowsky, claimed that “the multicultural society has absolutely failed” in regards to Nord-Neukölln, signaling that ethnic segregation and youth “delinquency” still constituted “a dramatic threat to social peace.”^[26]

Research and Case Study: The Gentrification Process in Nord-Neukölln

Although it is difficult to prove a causal relationship between creative city policies enacted in Neukölln in the 2000s and the area’s ensuing wave of gentrification, it’s clear that the area’s valorization has increased dramatically in recent years. From 2008 to 2015, rent prices nearly doubled in the Reuter Quarter, going from an average of 5.28 to 10.37 €/m2.^[27]  The average rent in the whole of Neukölln increased from 5.10 to 8.50 €/m2, by 67%.^[28] During the same period, the average rent in all of Berlin went from 5.96 to 8.55 €/m2, an increase of 43%.^[29] Simultaneously, from 2008 to 2015, the average apartment size in the Reuter Quarter decreased by 18%, and similarly, in the entire district of Neukölln it decreased by 17%.^[30] In all of Berlin, however, there was a 3.2% increase in average apartment size during the same time.^[31] Looking at the price history of artist spaces and shop owners in the Reuter Quarter presents a similar picture: those who moved in during the mid-2000s under the Zwischennutzungsagentur program were paying 5-10 €/m2 as of 2013, whereas those who moved into their spaces in 2013 and 2014 paid at least 11 €/m2 upon moving in.^[32] Demographic shifts occurred at the same time: beginning in 2010, the government conducted a survey called TOPOS which aimed to analyze gentrification trends in Neukölln, and it found that the percentage of “gentrifiers” (defined by post-secondary education, income above 1,750 €/month, and an academic or artistic occupation) and “pioneers” (defined by post-secondary education, born after 1970, income below 1,350 €/month, and an academic or artistic occupation) increased from 44% of residents in the Reuter Quarter before 2008, to 72% of residents moving to the Reuter Quarter after 2008.^[33] In the rest of Neukölln, these figures were 39%, and 65%, respectively.^[34]

Neukölln’s period of increasing valuation has proven difficult for many tenants, both artist spaces and residents alike. The N.K. Projekt opened in 2008 as a non-profit, artist-run space presenting experimental and avant-garde sound art. It was named after the district of Neukölln itself. In addition to performances, it also had onsite studios, rehearsal rooms, a gallery, and hosted workshop events. It quickly became one of the most well-known spaces supporting experimental music in Berlin, and also had onsite studios, rehearsal rooms, workshops, and a gallery. In 2015, it was forced to close because it could not afford to stay in the same Nord-Neukölln location without additional financial support from the city.^[35] In 2017, another venue, Loophole, successfully crowdfunded over 5,000€ to hire a lawyer to negotiate with their landlord. The landlord was demanding either a 20,000€ renovation or a 300% increase in rent, while refusing to respond to the venue owners directly.^[36] Unlike the N.K. Projekt, Loophole was able to negotiate terms with their landlord and remains open.

These situations have become quite typical in Neukölln, where to residents’ and researchers’ estimations about “every second building” has been bought by a property investor, or is in the process of being bought.^{[37] [38] [39]} For example, In 2016, the apartment block containing Neukölln’s Friedel 54 Kiezladen (trans: neighborhood co-op) was purchased by a Luxembourg-based investor, and the co-op was quickly given notice to leave. An organization called the Neukölln Tenants’ Alliance fought back by collecting signatures in favor of Berlin’s milieuschutz laws, meant to prevent landlords from imposing expensive renovations causing displacement; these laws had been exercised by the Kreuzberg district government in two similar cases involving the same Luxembourg investor.^[40] [41] However, Neukölln’s current district mayor, the Social Democrat Franziska Giffey, outwardly welcomes the current influx of middle-class residents, and in 2017, occupants of the Friedel 54 co-op were forcibly evicted.^[42] [43] The situation of alternative cultural institutions, from art spaces to community organizations, is thus quite precarious in Nord-Neukölln.

Beginning around a decade ago, increased attention was placed on more established or marketable cultural institutions in Neukölln. The case of 48 Stunden Neukölln (“48 Hours Neukölln”) is an important example. In 1995, an organization titled Kulturnetzwerk Neukölln was established by a network of cultural institutions in the area. The expressed aim was similar to the Zwischennutzungsagentur program: “to revitalize the area through culture.”^[44] In 1999, Kulturnetzwerk Neukölln established an event called 48 Stunden Neukölln, a yearly weekend where galleries and ateliers in the area are free and open to the public. In 2008 and 2009, 48 Stunden Neukölln received institutional prizes and international attention, winning Kulturpolitische Gesellschaft’s (“Cultural Political Society”) “Culture Prize” in 2008 and Kulturemarken’s (“Cultural Branding”) award for “European Trend of the Year” in 2009.^[45] By 2014, it had 250 participating venues in Nord-Neukölln and 60,000 visitors, making it the largest single art event in present-day Berlin.^[46] Although it started as a local movement, 48 Stunden Neukölln is now large enough to draw an international audience, which substantially contributes towards redefining Neukölln as a cultural hub in Berlin.

Case Study: Spektrum Berlin

Spektrum, an art space in the Reuter Quarter of Nord-Neukölln, represents a particularly unique position within the context of rising costs in the district: it opened in 2015, well after the first wave of gentrification in the area; it is located in the Reuter Quarter, the most centrally located and one of the most expensive areas in Neukölln; at first glance, its business model seems to resemble the N.K. Projekt, in that it is an artist-run space presenting a mix of events, from performances to workshops and lectures. However, although Spektrum often presents experimental music, music itself is not the focus of the space. On their website’s mission statement, they define Spektrum as a space supporting “technology-based artworks, science-focused events and futuristic utopias.”^[47] Performances are thus more interdisciplinary in nature, often presenting works exploring interactions between technology and sound art.

Building communities around these subjects was a primary focus of Spektrum from the beginning. The space is offered as a free resource two days a week, and hosts meetups in areas including sonic code, gaming, modular synthesizers, and VR. Spektrum was founded by Alfredo Ciannameo, a media artist mainly in charge of event curation, and Lieke Ploeger, who focuses mainly on community building. Ploeger characterizes this dual focus as a unique orientation for art spaces in Berlin—and a risky one, because the communities do not directly generate revenue for the space.^[48] Quantitatively assessing their contribution thus becomes difficult. However, technology interest groups like 3D printing or VR, for example, have become quite popular over the past few years. These interests are areas which would not otherwise necessarily cross over to the art world. In this way, Spektrum’s audience is quite multifaceted, and perhaps larger than one generated by an arts space strictly focused on a single interest.

A major part of Berlin’s creative city policies has been the promotion of the city’s technology scene. In 2015, Berlin received “the most venture capital investment of any city in Europe,” and had the “fastest-growing startup ecosystem in the world.”^[49] Spektrum’s artistic focus thus coincidentally dovetails with the recent large-scale branding ambitions of the city. Last week (May 2018), Spektrum received the be Berlin-branded Project Space Award, which demonstrates the crossover between Spektrum’s artistic focus and Berlin’s city branding. For the award, Spektrum was given about 37,000€, coincidentally almost exactly the amount that they took out as a loan for renovations prior to opening the space four years ago.^[50]

Although Spektrum has received some government funding now that it is an established venue, the process of renovating and opening the space was accomplished entirely outside of government support. The city did not provide them with any funding since Ploeger and Ciannameo had never run a venue before. Banks refused to lend them money, as investing in an experimental art space is too risky of a proposition. Instead, they were forced to rely on a loan from a private beer company, in exchange for selling their beer once the venue opened. They were also able to negotiate with the building’s landlord, who paid half of the estimated renovation cost, and gave them a 10-year rental contract without substantial price increases. In the end, renovations lasted for over ten months and cost more than were anticipated, so Ploeger and Ciannameo were forced to put in some of their private money towards the project as well.^[51] The process of opening a venue was thus quite difficult, but with money gained from the Project Space award, they will be able to pay off outstanding debts and focus on future programming.

Discussion

Art spaces play a complicated role within public policy decisions and the ongoing process of gentrification in Nord-Neukölln. As shown by the history of Kulturnetzwerk Neukölln and the results of the TOPOS demographic survey in 2010, a sizable portion of artists and gentrification pioneers were historically present in the area. Prices initially remained inexpensive despite Nord-Neukölln’s central location, due to the area’s reputation as an immigrant neighborhood and the high number of empty storefronts. Following the popularization of Richard Florida’s creative class discourse, under the auspices of the mid-2000s Zwischennutzungsagentur program, a sizable number of these storefronts were given to cultural producers at affordable prices in order to improve the neighborhood’s image. Over the past decade, international investors have been increasingly attracted to Neukölln, and many buildings have been purchased or renovated, driving up prices in the area and helping fuel a substantial demographic shift. In recent years, the increased valorization of property, particularly in Nord-Neukölln, has forced many art spaces which moved into the area in the mid-2000s to close, such as the N.K. Projekt. This dual role, of art spaces as gentrification pioneers and as the displaced parties, was identified by Claire Colomb towards the end of “Staging the New Berlin:”

Artists in search of cheap and edgy urban spaces have often been the unwilling agents of the revalorization of a neighbourhood by creating a particular ‘aesthetic’ which appeals to the cultural capital of the would-be gentrifiers and which is later appropriated and commodified by property developers or city marketers. The early ‘pioneers’ are later affected by the subsequent redevelopment of the original neighborhood and are gradually driven out. [Creative city policies in Berlin] have intensified the process of explicit mobilization (by the local state and by investors) of cultural and artistic innovation for urban development purposes. In that context many of Berlin’s subcultures have undergone a transition from a social movement to a brand, willingly or not.^[52]

Colomb’s identification here of arts subcultures turning into brands as a byproduct of Berlin’s marketing strategy is particularly interesting when considering Spektrum’s position. Berlin is orienting its branding and development policies towards attracting both technology startups and major players like Google—both of which are composed of a creative class with substantial economic power. It is therefore possible that the growing technology industry in Berlin has attracted a number of people who have similar interests to programs offered at Spektrum. This could explain why Spektrum, in focusing on artworks involving technology and futurism—with a location not far from the planned Google campus in southeast Kreuzberg^[53]—has recently attracted city funding and built a large enough community to maintain its financial footing.

However, the reality is not so straightforward. To Ploeger’s estimation, Spektrum falls through the cracks of most city funding opportunities. Its program is interdisciplinary in nature, and most grants or subsidies are geared towards more conventional arts—music, theater, dance, etc. Spektrum has recently involved itself in a Berlin-based working group called the Coalition of Free Project Spaces, forming a subgroup called 21st century art and digital culture. This group has already written a paper to city officials arguing for increased funding towards interdisciplinary art spaces, and they are in the process of writing another one, which criticizes the city’s focus on “startup culture” instead of supporting the digital arts scene.^[54]

Therefore, even if there may be an increasing constituency in Berlin for the types of artworks presented at Spektrum, the city is doing fairly little to actively encourage their development. Additionally, what funding Spektrum did receive came well after it was already established, suggesting that it remains extremely difficult for art spaces to open in the area—unless they have the luck of an agreeable landlord, a private investor, and a willingness to risk personal funds, as was the case with Spektrum. Therefore, art spaces in Nord-Neukölln still develop in spite of city policy rather than as a result of it. There is only one exception to this conclusion: a project space called Donau 115, on Donaustraße in Nord-Neukölln. Their space was funded using a similar model to the Zwischennutzungsagentur program, meaning the city accepted an application for a use of the space and is now partly subsidizing their rent for three years.^[55]

This model is not being applied with any sort of regularity, and neither are district milieuschutz laws. In the meantime the area continues to gentrify, driving the displacement of many social institutions like the Friedel 54 Kiezladen, cultural institutions like the N.K. Projekt, and the preexisting population of the area in general. The district government thus continues to favor policies defined by neoliberal austerity approaches rather than any sort of active intervention or subsidy programs. The Zwischennutzungsagentur, representing the largest intervention of public policy into supporting the development of cultural spaces in Neukölln, still fits neatly into this approach as a public-private partnership. This observation is consistent with Jamie Peck’s criticism of creative class policies advocated for by Richard Florida:

Florida is not asking for a blank check for new government programs, for major concessions to be made to the noncreative underclasses, nor even for regulatory transformation. His calls for creative empowerment can be met in relatively painless ways — by manipulating street-level façades, while gently lubricating the gentrification processes . . . In this sense, Florida’s ideas may have traveled so far, not because they are revolutionary, but because they are so modest.^[56]

For a city on the verge of bankruptcy, and in an ethnically diverse district struggling to adapt to a deindustrialized economy, creative class policies were easy to adopt precisely because they cost so little. They rely on the development of grassroots organizations representing cultural institutions and on public-private partnerships, recognizing that a diverse and undervalued district will easily attract a creative class. This marks the first step towards increased property valorization and an improved image of the district—and it should not be overlooked that, in the case of Neukölln, this reimaging is partly due to the displacement of a preexisting immigrant population with a more wealthy and bohemian group. In the process, art spaces—which acted as pioneers prior to the wave of gentrification that began about a decade ago—are often displaced alongside previous residents of the area.

At the moment, as long as the district continues to tacitly support the influx of middle-class residents and international investors who contribute to increasing prices, there is no reliable top-down framework allowing these spaces to continue to exist in the face of increasing costs. However, there is a precedent for a shift in policy, as shown by Kreuzberg’s recent use of milieuschutz laws. It remains to be seen if a bottom-up approach, like papers written by the Coalition of Free Project Spaces, can successfully influence city policy. Any change to foster the development of these cultural spaces must be done carefully,  implemented alongside anti-displacement measures for local residents. In the meantime, art spaces in Nord-Neukölln that present experimental or interdisciplinary work will likely continue to find themselves in a state of limbo, fighting eviction or waiting for a change in district policy.

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