After all the lights, the pounding noise and the high spirits, two Hamburg-based photographers set out to discover what's left over after nights of hardcore partying in some of Germany's most well-known nightclubs.
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The dance floor is packed, the music is pumping, the drinks are flowing freely and there may be some monkey business going on in the restrooms. It's the stuff of a typical night out in big German clubs - the subject of a photo series titled "Vom Bleiben" (What Remains) by Hamburg-based photographers André Giesemann and Daniel Schulz.
Visiting nightclubs in Hamburg, Berlin, Frankfurt and Offenbach, the pair took a sideways look at Germany's nightlife by photographing venues well after the party had ended. They say their pictures aim not only to document Germany's diverse club scene, but also to make people think differently about social spaces by capturing them devoid of people.
'Vom Bleiben' (What Remains)
Almost everyone has spent a night in a club, but how many of us have stayed to the bitter end to witness what's left behind after a night of hardcore partying? Two Hamburg photographers did just that.
Image: Giesemann/Schulz
When the music stops...
Hamburg-based photographers André Giesemann and Daniel Schulz have taken a quirky look at Germany's club scene in their photography series "Vom Bleiben" (What Remains). Staying until the bitter end of the party once the clubbers and DJs had long since gone home, they captured social spaces completely devoid of party-goers. Their goal: causing people to reflect on their relationship with clubs.
Image: Giesemann/Schulz
Robert Johnson, Offenbach
Shooting for the series took place in several cities, including Offenbach near Frankfurt. One of the venues featured there was techno club Robert Johnson, notable in past years for not announcing who was playing there to prevent crowds only turning up to see big name DJs. Known now for its minimalist design and top sound system, André Giesemann says, "It serves the people of Frankfurt well!"
Image: Giesemann/Schulz
Tresor, Berlin
Berlin was an inevitable stop on the guys' rounds of the country's clubs. Its nightlife is internationally renowned, and the city boasts some 2,300 bars and clubs, which cater to thousands of clubbers every weekend all year. Shots were taken in Tresor, arguably the granddaddy of techno clubs. André Giesemann refers to the venue as "a real training ground" for the budding clubber.
Image: Giesemann/Schulz
Rechenzentrum, Berlin
The photo series also documents some of Germany's clubs that no longer exist. One such example: Berlin's Rechenzentrum. A former computing center, it was situated on the same site as the former East German broadcasting house. The river tour company Reederei Riedel bought the plot in 2009, and the club was closed and demolished.
Image: Giesemann/Schulz
Haus 73, Hamburg
While the emphasis of the series was on clubs focusing on electronic music, Haus 73 in Hamburg proved to be the exception to the rule. In addition to hosting DJs, the cultural center on the northern fringes of the St. Pauli district also offers a venue for concerts, readings, plays and table football tournaments. André Giesemann sums it up as a "black-tiled battleground."
Image: Giesemann/Schulz
Cocoon, Frankfurt
Another venue to have bitten the dust is Frankfurt's Cocoon. The venue boasted two restaurants and a number of bars and dancefloors catering to around 1,500 customers each weekend. Another feature were the cocoons; private couch niches that party-goers could rent. The venue, which André Giesemann compared with a spaceship, hosted its closing party in November 2012.
Image: Giesemann/Schulz
Ego, Hamburg
Another venue in the photographers' native Hamburg to be featured is Ego, well-known for its ultra-modern interior decor. André Giesemann describes partying there as "the surprise of suddenly finding yourself in a science fiction film." In addition to the high-end technology and line-up of cool DJs, the club also runs a limo service catering to guests who are out to impress.
Image: Giesemann/Schulz
Golden Gate, Berlin
Golden Gate, tucked away under the train tracks at the Jannowitzbrücke subway station, is something of a hidden pearl for many Berliners. It's small, scruffy and come Thursday night plays nothing but techno and house for three days straight - making it one of the city's most popular venues for electronic dance music. For André Giesemann, it is among nightlife's "small, undiscovered caves."
Image: Giesemann/Schulz
Dice, Berlin
Dice opened its doors amid much hype at the end of 2008 and initially ticked all the boxes: an industrial setting (in this case a former electricity substation), high-end technology and celebrity DJs booked for the opening. But after initial interest, audiences soon fell away, before the club closed its doors less than a year later. André Giesemann curtly describes it as "not Berghain."
Image: Giesemann/Schulz
Golden Pudel, Hamburg
Golden Pudel on the banks of the Elbe in Hamburg's St. Pauli district looks more like an Alpine hut than an electro venue. The club's website claims: "The wooden building, once built from criminals' hipbones, shakes. Electricity falls off. Golden Pudel did it again. I could cry with joy every time I encounter this black snow-lamb on the parish meadow." No, we didn't understand a word either.
Image: Giesemann/Schulz
Tape, Berlin
Tape, which first opened its doors in 2008, very quickly established itself as one of Berlin's key places to be and injected some much-needed life into the rather barren industrial area neighboring the city's central train station. Despite a stellar sound system, the venue closed in 2012. André Giesemann cheekily recalls its interior as follows: "So much wood never hurt a raver."
Image: Giesemann/Schulz
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DW: How did you come up with the concept of the series?
André Giesemann: The series is the result of a rigorous development process, but in many ways it also evolved by itself. We were keen to catch a moment we had experienced ourselves many times before, and we wanted others to be able to share it. Initially, we wanted it to go in a completely different direction and simply to present an overview of the club scene in Germany. But we quickly realized that we could introduce an element of fun into this often laborious project if the idea of our 'extended living room' played more of a role.
How did you choose the clubs you wanted to shoot in?
On one hand, it was based on their relevance and architecture, and on the other, we wanted to present as broad a cross-section of clubs as possible - all of which tend to focus on electronic music. All of the clubs pictured combine the devotion to and history of four-four time!
Why did you decide to shoot in empty clubs after the party? Surely a venue full of clubbers would have given a better impression of the nightlife in Germany?
This is an issue we haven't only addressed with this project - it's been reflected in other works we've done. We've always been interested in what sort of impression is left behind in a social space once the people connected with it have left. Sometimes physical traces are left behind; sometimes it's simply the emptiness that remains.
What did you hope viewers would learn about German nightlife from your photographs?
This is a question that we generally only ask ourselves in hindsight and that doesn't really play a role during the actual work. The images of these places we compiled were only possible in the first place because we've personally been going to clubs for several years. At a certain point, though, we had the time and the courage to try to capture these familiar moments.
What were the biggest surprises and disappointments you experienced during the shoot?
One surprise was the ability to remain both separate and part of the party in spite of the tricky technical preparations. A particular disappointment? Exposing a negative poorly!
Just the usual wonderful grime, which we know and love from our 'extended living rooms'!
After this project, do you still go clubbing, or are you sick of the sight of clubs now?
We're always excited by new venues, and they're springing up all the time. So it goes on, albeit increasingly without the camera. But we'd miss it all otherwise.