East Side Gallery

Nobody was thinking about the long-term future of the East Side Gallery when it took shape during the euphoric aftermath of the fall of the Berlin Wall. Some 118 artists from 24 countries flocked to Berlin to use the Wall as a canvas upon which to paint their farewell to the East German Communist regime which erected it back in 1961.

The result -- a long 1.3-kilometer (0.80 miles) stretch of gaily-colored Berlin Wall situated alongside the river Spree and near the Ostbahnhof railway station -- is an automatic must-see for tourists to the German capital.

Over the years, wind, water and carbon dioxide emissions -- as well as occasional acts of vandalism -- have steadily and fiercely eroded the gallery's substance.

And renovating it is far from easy.

It is not a question of simply taking down the paintings and preserving them while the walls on which they hang are restored. On the contrary, in order to get to the wall to restore it at all, the paintings have to be entirely destroyed. They would subsequently be repainted by the same artists who are waiting in the wings for their cue.

A fair price?

The total cost of the renovation project is estimated at more than 3 million euros ($4.13 million). Some Berliners are already hot under the collar at the thought of taxpayers' money being spent on repainting this most prolific relic of the GDR, and a recent survey conducted by Berlin's Tagesspiegel newspaper suggested only 27 percent of Berliners are in favor of the renovation.

But Kani Alavi, co-founder and president of the Artists' Initiative East Side Gallery says it's a small price to pay for the upkeep of a crucial part of the city's history.

"The gallery serves as a document," he said, "and we and the city authorities have to be prepared to protect the history of Berlin."

Thus far, the authorities have agreed to stump up the money to pay for the technical restoration of the actual Wall but not the repainting thereof. Jörg Flähmig, who works for the city's planning authorities says the renovation work cannot and will not commence until the project has been financed in its entirety.

"We are still trying to secure the money for the repainting, but we're not yet sure where it will come from. We're currently still trying to ascertain which funding pot we can tap into to cover the costs."

Although Flähmig is confident that enough public money can be found to finance the project, Alavi is backing more than one horse.

"This renovation was supposed to start in April, then it was put back to August. Now it is August and they're still negotiating. If they push it back any further, we will have to try and get private sponsors on board," Alavi said.

He's been down that road before, and is not afraid to travel it again.

Tried and tested

Seven years ago, 333 meters of the gallery were successfully renovated after Alavi and his Artists' Initiative looked for funding outside the public domain.

"The last time we talked to private sponsors, we had raised half a million euros within two months," Alavi said. The fact that he now needs four times that amount is not dissuading Alavi who believes time is of the essence.

"We have always said we are prepared to start at a moment's notice and we could finish all the paintings within two months, but the longer we leave it, the more problems we are likely to encounter," he said. "People move around a lot and we lose track of them. Four of the artists have already died and others are getting too old."

The problem, as Alavi sees it, is that the authorities are dragging their feet. Even if he were to try and raise the necessary money from private sponsors, he would still need the authorities to grant their official permission -- something they have not yet definitively done.

His fear is that the planning powers that be are more interested in potential building projects on the empty land right across the street from the world's longest open air gallery as they are in the gallery itself.

Hole in the wall

Following the city planning office decision to remove a 48-meter section of the gallery wall as part of a massive arena construction project on the far side of the road, Alavi believes he has good reason to be concerned.

"I wonder if the reason for all this stalling on the part of the authorities is that other investors are planning to build and they are looking to cut more holes into the wall."

But Flähmig, who sees the gallery as an important Berlin tourist attraction, says no such plans are in the immediate offing.

"Much of the land on both sides of the new arena is public and will be turned into parks," he said, before adding that "there are some private plots which have planning permission and which might to create need emergency escape routes."

That being the case, Flähmig stresses that the authorities would find a solution.

Any solution which means creating another hole in the 1.3-kilometer stretch of authentic GDR history, would meet with resistance from the likes of Alavi and his fellow artists, who, besides maintaining the existing gallery, are keen to establish a documentation centre which would retell the most recent chapter in German history through art.

"We want to use this mixture of history and art to break down the walls in people's heads," Alavi said, "we want to prevent anyone else from coming along and doing the same thing again."