121 beats per minute. An ideal pace for dancing in the club. The track is called “Sweet Time”, “… no more exctasy, no more dancing alone …” Theresa Bittermann stands behind the turntables and moves to the rhythm of the beats and basses. A video installation flickers behind her. Everything seems like a normal evening in Munich’s nightlife, which she often experiences as a DJ * biman. But something crucial is missing: Bittermann is alone in the club. She hangs up in front of an empty room without an audience. The people who celebrate sit at home. The screen is the window into the closed club. The celebration remains contactless.
The artist and organizer Theresa Bittermann acts as a DJ * Bimän in Munich clubs.
(Photo: Michelle Gleixner)
That was how it was in January, when Club Harry Klein brought DJ * Bimän, among others, with their house sets to the party abstinent via livestream. And so it is again this winter. Much more dramatic than the missing evenings when strangers are sweaty and frolic on the dance floor, however, are the effects that club closings and curfew hours have for social minorities such as the LGBTIQ * community – because important shelters break away.
“Clubs, pubs and bars are social places. Especially for the LGBTIQ * community, because queer people can meet there and get to know others who are similar to them because they have the same life situation,” says Andreas Unterforsthuber, director the coordination office for equality of LGBTIQ * of the city of Munich. These meeting places in Munich have been decreasing for a number of years anyway. And the few cafes, clubs or bars that were left came under even more pressure. The danger that an entire gastronomic scene will disappear is great. “It’s not just about pubs – pubs come and go – there are also very important social spaces,” he says.
In the past, the city has tried to counteract the dying of queer pubs by providing financial support to advice and meeting centers. At the beginning of 2020 a new one was added on Müllerstrasse. In the lesbian-queer center (Lez), lesbian women, inter, non-binary and trans people should have a space to develop. In addition to traditional consultations, events can also be organized there. On November 20, for example, a group of volunteers curated three exhibitions on the commemoration day for the victims of transphobia. “That was our first and only event in attendance so far,” says Julia Bomsdorf, spokeswoman for the sponsoring association.
The open counter in the center, which only opened in October, is still open on Thursdays and Fridays between 5 and 10 p.m. The Lez will also be open the day before Christmas Eve, December 23rd. “Unfortunately, many people continue to find that their sexual orientation and / or gender identity is not accepted in their biological families,” says Bomsdorf. Meetings with friends are therefore particularly important for them on occasions like Christmas. “Contact bans, where only close family members and biological relatives are exceptions, can lead to social isolation,” she says.
Statistics, such as those of the German Institute for Economic Research (DIW), show that queer people are significantly more likely to suffer from stress-related illnesses such as depression, anxiety disorders and heart disease than heterosexuals. One reason for this is therefore experiences of discrimination. Digital group meetings and counseling offers are an important support for those affected during the pandemic. “However, there is actually nothing that can replace meetings in bars, clubs and other cultural sites that serve as retreats and meeting places in real life,” says Bomsdorf.
Drag performer without bingo and prosecco
Matthias Niederlechner is chairman of the United Queens of Munich association – on stage his name is Daphne Ryan.
(Photo: private)
For months now, both the big events like the Christopher Street Day (CSD) parade and the smaller festivals like the pink Christmas market in the Glockenbachviertel or the drag brunch in Café Regenbogen have been absent. “Our motivation now depends a bit,” says Matthias Niederlechner, chairman of the United Queens of Munich association. If it weren’t for a pandemic, he would be seen much more often as a drag artist under his pseudonym Daphne Ryan in Munich’s bars and clubs. For example, he would just cry a little after the new bingo in the Prosecco Bar. “A lot of older queer people may be a little loner right now because they have neither children nor grandchildren,” he says. Social togetherness is affected by the closing times in restaurants and nightlife restrictions. “For me and the people in our club, the closings are at least not a threat to our existence because we are not on stage full-time,” he says. He missed the fun and the joy very much.
Disc jockey and cultural anthropologist Theresa Bittermann is also happy that she has several pillars and is not only dependent on hanging up or the monthly “She La” series of events – a party that is primarily aimed at lesbian Munich residents or non-binary and trans people from the City judges. “At the moment I’m employed at a theater producing the music for a project about motherhood,” she says. The nightlife restrictions could be fatal for their community in the long run. “If the clubs are up, it means the community can’t see each other,” she says. That one has a sexual desire outside the norm can be inspiring or terrifying. “If structures are lived that go beyond heteronormativity, it helps to make you realize that you are not alone.”