Gazing across Alboinplatz, can you sense the echoes of a chilling tale? This seemingly tranquil square in Berlin-Schöneberg, nestled on the border of Tempelhof, harbors a secret. Alboinplatz, named after the Lombard king, isn’t just a green oasis. It’s a place where myth and reality intertwine, where the whispers of ancient legends linger in the air. At its heart lies the Blanke Helle, a small, unassuming lake. Before the bustling city encroached, this was Hels Pfuhl, a gateway to the underworld according to local lore. Imagine the scene: a pagan priest offering sacrifices beside the dark waters, awaiting the arrival of Hel’s black bull. This bull, sent by the goddess Hel herself, plowed the sacred fields twice a year. But the tale takes a dark turn. A Christian monk, succeeding the priest, neglected the ancient rites. When the bull emerged from the lake, it didn’t till the land. It devoured the monk. Even into the 20th century, whispers persisted that the Blanke Helle claimed a victim each year. While the reality is likely less dramatic, the lake’s history is tinged with tragedy, a reminder of the power of ancient beliefs. Alboinplatz bears a tangible connection to the legend. Dominating the southern shore is a colossal bull sculpture, a stark silhouette against the sky. Created by Paul Mersmann in the 1930s, the bull isn’t a celebration of Nazi ideology, as some might assume. It’s a complex symbol. Its light hue, contrasting with the black bull of myth, represents redemption, a defiance of the dark forces. Alboinplatz itself, with its surrounding residential buildings, stands as a testament to Berlin’s resilience. The “Blanke Hölle” housing estate, designed by Erich Glas and Hans Jessen, forms a semi-circular embrace around the eastern side of the square. This architectural marvel, along with the entire area down to Eresburgstraße, once bore the nickname “Tempelhofer Schweiz” or Tempelhof Switzerland. The reason remains a mystery, perhaps a whimsical nod to the area’s glacial past. The bull of Alboinplatz stands watch, a silent sentinel. Its presence evokes a sense of unease, a reminder of the darkness that lurks beneath the surface. As you leave Alboinplatz, the image of the bull and the whispers of the Blanke Helle will linger, a chilling echo in the heart of the city.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to