3 queer photographers on the changing face of Berlin’s club culture

Photo: Rafael Medina.

“Clubbing, at least the way we experience it in Berlin, does indeed change a person,” says Berlin-based photographer Sypros Rennt, who’s one of three artists taking part in a new exhibition called DISCOnstruction, opening at Projekt Raum 145 this week. “So it’s all about constructing, reconstructing or even destroying certain aspects of oneself, “ he tells SLEEK. The exhibition curated by Vassilia Kaga shows the voyeuristic works of three queer photographers—Rennt will be exhibiting alongside Victor Luque and Rafael Medina—who are no strangers to the local club scene. As part of the community, they gained the trust of promoters as well as revellers on the dancefloor.

 Although the name of the exhibition had been decided prior to the announcement that Berlin techno fixture Griessmühle was set to close (the beloved nightclub closed at the end of last month), the exhibition fits with the current mood sweeping the German capital. Amid the wave of Clubsterben (dying of clubs)—KitKat Club is on track to move location and About Blank and Salon zur Wilden Renate face closure over a planned Autobahn extension—the community is fighting back and protesting for the right to maintain these safe environments. After all the understanding of clubs as political spaces has never been more visible than it is today. If there’s one thing the raids of infamous club Bassiani in Tbilisi Georgia taught us, it’s that: we dance together, we fight together.

From sweaty bodies moving ecstatically in the arms of like-minded ravers to flashing lights and moments of pure joy, SLEEK spoke to the three photographers involved who somehow got around Berlin’s “no photos on the dance floor” policy.

Victor Luque  

"I try my best to keep the uncanny of the Berlin clubs alive.”

“I want to stay positive and believe in a new generation of fierce queer ravers that will surprise us all with the clubbing of the future,” says Spanish photographer Victor Luque. There’s more behind the so-called ‘Clubsterben than losing very significant cultural venues like Griessmühle and About Blank. “They are not disposable party rooms but locations with deep traditions in Berlin club culture, where a lot of people including me made a family,” explains Luque. “Institutions and communities like this don’t grow overnight.” The Spanish photographer began taking pictures at private after-parties until the promoters of Griessmühle’s infamous Cocktail d’Amore queer clubnight asked him to document their parties. Most of the time, he takes photos of friends or scenes without faces as he doesn’t want to be invasive or disrespectful to fellow clubbers. Even though he brings his camera to the club, Luque is a huge fan of Berlin’s “no pictures on the dance floor” philosophy. “When they put a sticker on your phone camera, it also encourages you to be in the moment for as long as this present might last,” he says.

Luque’s photographs are like souvenirs of what’s happening around him—sleepless creatures and fleeting encounters gone wild in ephemeral territories. “I like to think that my photographs raise questions more than giving answers, and hopefully they leave you wanting to know more about the story behind the images,” he adds. “I try my best to keep the uncanny of the Berlin clubs alive.”

Rafael Medina 

“I hope we can find ways to resist.”

“When I moved to Berlin three years ago, I told my friends ‘I have the feeling I arrived at the end of a party’,” says Rafael Medina, who is originally from Brazil. “The gentrification had already made major changes.” The photographer believes that the underground will find its way out as people are more politically engaged and actively looking for ways to keep on partying. “Clubbing is a non-conforming way of socialising, exchange affection and finding self-liberation and self-expression,” he explains. “It’s a revolutionary power.” For him, it’s a privilege to not only be part of the community, but to be one of the people who documents some of those moments of joy, hedonism, and love. “I guess the future of club culture mainly depends on how we are able to handle the gentrification,” says Medina. “I hope we can learn something from other cities’ experiences and find ways to resist.”

Medina’s pictures work with a multiple exposure technique that creates an image within an image. After he shoots a film, he rolls it back and starts from the very beginning. In this way, he loses track of each image, so moments that happened in different periods of time and space merge together. “In a world in which we have so much control over every part of our process, where we can measure, calculate and edit our images and lives—being able to lose control feels like an act of resistance,” he explains.

Spyros Rennt 

“Clubbing, at least the way we experience it in Berlin, does indeed change a person.”

“I like to look at a photo and think ‘damn, now that was a good time!’,” says photographer Spyros Rennt. “I want it to make me put some music on, dress up, text my friends, get in the mood to go out and repeat it all over again.” For the Greek photographer who moved to Berlin in 2011, a good party photo should speak to everyone and not only like-minded ravers. His work gives a glimpse into a different way of life which may not be the norm for everyone. Hired to document events, Rennt is often the only person running around with a camera. The artist is not interested in taking pictures of strangers or substance consumption, but rather catches people “looking cute and sexy, and not so much high off their heads”.

DISCOnstruction is open for interpretations but for Rennt it’s related to an internal process of self-discovery: “Clubbing, at least the way we experience it in Berlin, does indeed change a person. So it’s all about constructing, reconstructing or even destroying certain aspects of oneself.” Being optimistic about the future,  Rennt believes in the community as a whole to be ready to mobilise in order to protect those safe spaces at any time. “Maybe the natural state of clubs is for them to shine bright and after a certain point, die out,” he explains. “Would clubs like Studio 54 or Paradise garage be as iconic if they were still around today?”

‘DISCOnstruction’ is opening February 13th at Projektraum 145 in Berlin. You can find more information here.