Restoring degraded, concrete-encased urban streams is essential for healthy ecosystems and resilience to the coming impacts of climate change. In this area, the eastern German city of Leipzig has been busier than most.
The city of Leipzig, once home to Bach, Wagner and Mendelssohn and in 1989 a crucible of sorts for the Peaceful Revolution that led to the reunification of East and West Germany, has made itself a world leader in urban stream restoration over the last two decades, very much under the radar. Since the late 1990s the city has been reviving streams and canals that have been buried in underground pipes and paved over for the last 50 years, or simply silted up with mud, both in the city center and surrounding countryside. The formerly sooty, crumbling city core is now crisscrossed by tidy canals that, despite their intensely un-natural urban context and industrial history, are intended to provide at least some of the functions of natural streams.
Outside the city, no less than 26 lakes created by the closure of all but one of the area’s open-pit coal mines are being natur-ized (it’s not restoration per se because they were never natural lakes) and connected by natural and artificial waterways and locks to create a region-wide network entirely passable by small recreational boats and, it is hoped, fish.
I recently learned that virtually nothing in English has been written on the man who was arguably the most important German architect since World War II. And so I wrote what is only the second English-language article (and only Wikipedia entry) on Wilfried Stallknecht*. By “important” I mean “had the greatest influence on buildings in Germany”. He didn’t redefine architecture as we know it or create a revolutionary visual language, and his buildings are neither beautiful nor dramatic, but he may have had the most influence on the largest number of buildings. The wide influence stems from two innovations dating from 1958: prefabricated apartment buildings that went on to house millions, and a single-family house design of which 500,000 were built.
The world’s longest building is a never-used Nazi-era resort called Prora which would stretch the entire width of Manhattan and across the Hudson River to New Jersey. Built by Hitler on the Baltic Sea to provide recreation for the masses, the buildings were completed and are still standing, but the resort never opened. Just under 3 miles long, it has capacity for 20,000 guests and is nearly impossible to photograph in its entirety because it shrinks to a hairline in any comprehensive view.
The glass box is VW’s Transparent Factory, 10 minutes from the baroque palaces and churches that most people associate with Dresden and earned it the name ‘Florence on the Elbe’. A literary-philosphical talk show called ‘The Philsophical Quartet’ was sometimes filmed there during its 10-year run, because Germany is the kind of place that has literary-philophical talk shows. To prevent birds from hitting the glass, outdoor loudspeakers play ‘territory taken’ bird sounds.
The lack of museums covering communist-era East Germany is startling. The few DDR* museums that exist are zero-budget independent shoestring operations such as this one that simply took over a few floors of an unrenovated office building, not even in Dresden itself but in a town just outside it. The government seems to have little interest in documenting East German history. Exceptions include the main German history museum in the little, not-centrally-located town of Bonn (West Germany’s capital until unification) and two small DDR-related museums in Berlin that only opened around 2011-13.
The sinks are not a display. The photo is here to show the curious German (European?) habit of having sinks out in the hallways of office buildings.
*DDR was East Germany, Deutsche Demokratische Republik. West Germany was BRD, Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany)