Collecting dust in a forgotten fortress that once served as an ammunition supply point teetering on the outskirts of Berlin is an exhibition of forgotten artwork from ages long passed, between medieval times up to the Nazis and even until the time where Communism was at its height.
The show, called "Unveiled: Berlin and Its Monuments," is not unlike the pieces it showcases, as it has been open to the public for the past eight years "chronicling" Germany's less-known history without catching the attention it deserves.
Located at the Spandau Citadel in Berlin, Germany, the exhibition is a permanent mainstay of the Stadtgeschichtliches Museum Spandau, where it has stayed since 2016.
Unwanted and Forgotten, Yet Still Remains
Contrasting pieces that are seemingly on display as a means to "boast" of its grandeur and "shining" history, the Spandau Citadel monuments are otherwise shunned, and yet they still serve as physical remnants of a history that the country is still "coming to terms with."
"Instead of commanding reverence, they make historical events tangible in the truest sense of the word," the Berlin museum wrote on its website, in regards to the "aberrant" display. "Because though usually not allowed in a museum: here, touching is permitted in most cases."
Among the exhibit's centerpieces are the recontextualized installations that include the monument ensemble of the imperial Siegesallee's Brandenburg-Prussian rulers (c. 1898-1901), a statue of a Nazi decathlete made by Arno Breker (1936), and the "space-warping" enormous head part of a monument depicting Lenin that once stood in East Berlin (1970).
Its main lineup's almost defiant existence in a world that rightfully despises antisemitism also swoops past the common customs of German museums, which involve attaching a warning for would-be visitors that they will shortly be encountering Nazi relics.
Because, here, the visitors are encouraged to place themselves nine decades in the past, face-to-face with such monuments.
That said, it's not all the exhibition prioritizes, as it also highlights Berlin's rich 800-year history. For one, there's a piece called "Albrecht von Ballenstedt," also known as "Albert the Bear," which depicts the locality's prince and so-called "slayer of Slavs."
The Alber statue was first revealed back in 1903 and was made by Kaiser Wilhelm II. Afterward, it bounced from place to place until it landed shoulder-to-shoulder with the other forgotten pieces in the "Unveiled" exhibition.
All in all, the show is Berlin's trademark bluntness displayed in full, as it slowly tries to reclaim its longstanding history against the lasting stains of a dark past.
