After breakfast this morning, we set out to explore Potsdam for my project, little knowing that the theme of the day would turn out to be Verspätung (lateness). From Rosenthaler Platz, we took the tram and the S-Bahn to the Hauptbahnhof, where we intended to catch a regional express train to Potsdam’s Hauptbahnhof. However, when we got to the train station, there was obviously some sort of disruption or technical error on the tracks, because a bunch of trains were being shuffled around. One minute we seemed to be on the right platform, while the next minute the train coming to our platform was heading to Interlaken, in Switzerland. Finally, the confusion seemed to sort itself out, and the correct train seemed to be on its way until an announcement stated that “Der Zug hat Verspätung” (the train is late). Luckily, we didn’t have to wait too much longer, as the train showed up shortly afterward, and we were on our way to Potsdam! Along the way, our train wound its way through Berlin’s western districts, including Wannsee, allowing me to catch a glimpse of the many lakes in the area, as well as the single-family homes and villas in this area. At some point during my stay in Berlin, I hope to take a trip out to Wannsee, in order to explore yet another facet of the city. Only twenty-five minutes after we boarded the train, we arrived in Potsdam and boarded the tram to Brandenburger Strasse, the main pedestrian and commercial district of Potsdam’s Innenstadt. On the tram, we soon learned that Potsdam’s trams are quite different from those in Berlin in one important respect: they stop and start very abruptly, causing many of us to crash (or almost crash) into each other.
Getting off the tram at Brandenburger Strasse, we proceeded to walk down this street, which has been transformed into a pedestrian zone, on our way towards Park Sanssouci. With its pedestrian zone, shops, and cafés, this area of Potsdam looked very similar to other mid-size German cities that I have been in, such as Würzburg or Regensburg. Although I expected to like Potsdam on the basis of its historical heritage alone, I really enjoyed walking through this part of town, as the architecture was beautiful, with colorful houses, and the entire atmosphere seemed to be calm and relaxing. Put together, I soon understood why Frederick the Great and the Hohenzollern rulers who followed him preferred Potsdam to Berlin, as the relaxed, laid-back atmosphere of the city would have been much more conducive to the promotion of monarchy than the modernity of Berlin. Walking along Brandenburger Strasse, we soon arrived at Potsdam’s Brandenburger Tor, which is quite a bit smaller than Berlin’s Brandenburger Tor, but still impressive. For me, seeing the Brandenburger Tor in Potsdam brought the question of how sites become icons to mind; for instance, the words “Brandenburger Tor” are now irrevocably associated with Berlin, as that gate has become a symbol both of the city of Berlin and of Germany unity. However, all “Brandenburger Tor” means is Brandenburg Gate, which is actually quite an ordinary term, especially in the state of Brandenburg. Just like “Central Park” always brings New York to mind, even though many cities could have a central park, “Brandenburger Tor” is linked with Berlin, even though many towns and cities in this area used to have a gate leading out into the region of Brandenburg.
Past the Brandenburger Tor, we walked toward the Grünes Gitter, or the gates that lead into Park Sanssouci, one of the main royal areas of Potsdam. Within the confines of this one park are at least four palaces, including the famous Schloss Sansoucci, the Orangerieschloss, the Neues Palais, and Schloss Charlottenhof. As might be expected, we walked to see Sanssouci, which was not only in close walking range, but is also the most famous of Potsdam’s palaces, as it was built as Frederick the Great’s summer retreat and answer to Versailles. From the outside, Sanssouci is a very beautiful palace, but I am not sure if I would actually want to tour the inside, as I have heard that the palace gets quite crowded, as most tourists know only about Sanssouci when they come to Potsdam. Additionally, as a summer palace, Sanssouci is much smaller than what one would normally expect of a palace in comparison with Versailles or Buckingham Palace. Leaving Sanssouci behind, we proceeded to lunch, where the day’s theme of Verspätung continued, as it took quite a while to get our food. Indeed, I ended up taking part of my sandwich “to go” and eating it as I walked down the street to catch the bus. Since we were running late for our tour at Schloss Cecilienhof, my project’s site visit, we had to navigate a different way up to the Neuen Garten than I had originally planned. However, this was by no means a bad detour, as we were able to see part of Potsdam’s Russian colony of Alexandrowka, as well as some of the buildings that functioned as Soviet military headquarters on Leistikowstrasse, when Potsdam was a Cold War city.
When we arrived at Schloss Cecilienhof, I was somewhat disappointed to see that part of the palace was wrapped up for restoration, as I feared that the entire palace might be unrecognizable. Fortunately, only one corner was under construction, and we were able to fully experience the palace’s unique architectural style: English Tudor. While this may seem like a very odd choice of architecture for a German palace, it is partially explained by the fact that Kaiser Wilhelm II, who oversaw construction of Cecilienhof as a residence for his eldest son and heir, Crown Prince Wilhelm, was a grandson of Britain’s Queen Victoria, whom he always esteemed. Perhaps such an architectural choice reflected some lingering affection on Wilhelm II’s part for his English heritage, even though construction on Cecilienhof did not begin until 1913, at a time when relations between Germany and Britain were somewhat strained. Because of its late construction date, Schloss Cecilienhof has the distinction of being the last palace built by the Hohenzollern dynasty before the German imperial monarchy was overthrown in November 1918. Although Wilhelm II was forced to flee and spent the rest of his (long) life in exile in the Netherlands, Crown Prince Wilhelm returned to Germany in the mid-1920s, and his family continued to live at Cecilienhof until they fled the oncoming Red Army in 1945. At this point, the next chapter in Cecilienhof’s history began when the palace was used as the site of the Potsdam Conference in July and August 1945, during which time the Soviets added a “personal” touch to the palace, the large red star made of geraniums in the palace’s front courtyard.
Having written about these aspects of Schloss Cecilienhof’s history and more, as well as Potsdam’s tendency to minimize layers of its history at times, I was quite interested to see how our tour guide would present the history of the palace. Upon reflection, I have to say that I was quite pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoyed the tour of Cecilienhof, as our tour guide not only talked about the royal history of the palace, mentioning what Crown Prince Wilhelm and his wife would have used the rooms for, as well as their function during the Potsdam Conference. In this way, this one palace museum is an example of how the city of Potsdam could present the layers of its history side-by-side, rather than simply focusing on the history of the Hohenzollerns (fascinating as that might be), symbolized by the crowds at Sanssouci. Overall, I think what surprised me the most about our visit to Cecilienhof was not the palace tour, but the palace itself; compared to other palaces I have toured, such as the Residenz in Würzburg and Schönbrunn in Vienna, Cecilienhof is not at all ornate, at least not in the rooms that we saw. There was no gold leaf around the ceiling, no mirror rooms, and no massive ceiling frescos. I would attribute this to the late construction date of the palace, by which point few – if any – structures were being built in baroque or neo-baroque style. As a result, Cecilienhof’s interior looks less like that of a “fairy-tale” palace and more like a place where people could actually live; indeed, I really felt myself able to visualize the inhabitants of the palace going about their daily business.
After Cecilienhof, we attempted to walk toward the famous Glienicker Brücke, site of many spy swaps during the Cold War, but I got somewhat turned around on the paths in the Neuen Garten and was unable to find the bridge, so we ended up just heading back into town. However, this misstep did end with some good, as we were able to walk back to Brandenburger Strasse via the Holländisches Viertel (Dutch Quarter), an area of Potsdam that looks as though it was picked up from the Netherlands and dropped off in the city, as all of the architecture is very traditionally Dutch. After arriving back at Brandenburger Strasse, we took the tram back to the Hauptbahnhof, where, having presumably left the Verspätung behind, we were able to immediately catch a train back to Berlin. At the Hauptbahnhof, I was treated to the site of a full brass orchestra playing on the ground floor, something that you don’t ordinarily see in the main train station of a major metropolis, so I stopped to listen for a while. Eventually, I made my way back to the hostel after it began to rain; indeed, because of the unpleasant weather tonight, we simply ate dinner at the bar in the hostel and spent the rest of the night relaxing and hanging out together. Tomorrow, we are off to do several different urban explorations in the Hackesche Höfe and the district of Friedrichshain, so I hope the weather cooperates with our plans!
Making the Past Present 