From
Philip Boverman
Every major cultural event is framed by a series of rituals and scenery movements: the unfolding of the wooden chairs in Bayreuth. The theater posters drifting through the streets of Avignon in the mistral wind. And in Berlin, too, there is a long-established tradition of complaining about the Berlinale – gladly in the form of smirking references to other permanent major construction sites in the city that have developed a wild life of their own, not least in the imagination of the Germans.