Nick Mattingly

I believe “Millennials” are a very creative, technology driven and business minded generation. Not afraid to just do it. Although, sometimes we do put our loyalty in brand names like Apple, Microsoft, Sony, etc. it is no surprise because those companies have been working hard and spending millions on marketing to gain brand loyalty.

It comes with no surprise that we can consider ourselves as a brand. I am constantly on the streets with my camera. I can’t tell you how many times I wished I had a business card to hand out to people who ask where they can find my work. This process can make someone feel a bit branded but in reality it is just a way of getting exposure and sharing creative work.We are a generation with a large network and we use it to make connections and gain information. Our ‘do it yourself’ mentality spills over into almost all aspects of business. Out of 5 of my closest friends from high school, 4 of them have started their own business. On top of that, 3 of those friends took it upon themselves to also become airplane pilots. When our generation has aspirations to be something more it is only a matter of time before we seize our goals.

There are many things about a 9-5 day job that are quite limiting and monotonous. I don’t believe that writing a business plan is our answer to self-expression and creativity. We have been raised to believe that if you do something you love you will never work a day in your life. So writing a business plan is an attempt to involve our interests with our daily lives. Because the more you love the work you do the less it feels like work. With this newfound entrepreneurial spirit and our vast network of connected people it makes sense to have a do-it-yourself mentality.

Stefania Herrera

Young, compassionate, smart, narcissists, tech-savvy, unique and individual, we are Generation Y.  Like everything in life, there are always two sides of the coin. In our generation you still find traits of the Gen-Xers, that the idea of adulthood being a series of steps: attend university, get a well-paid job (even if you dislike it), marry, have children, retire, die. This mentality continues to be a trait in our generation. One word to describe our generation would be the phrase “selling ourselves.”

Throughout the past two decades there hasn’t been one specific event for us to dwell on (like for Baby Boomers, the second World War and all its post-struggle.) On the contrary, there are way too many. So what exactly are we selling ? Our ideas and passion. This generation can be characterized by attempting to be better than others, and the way to do this is sell our unique ideas of how to change all the wrongs in the world. We do not go to university simply to get a degree and then just be part of a multi-millionaire corporation (of course some still do), but to acquire the skills to portray/promote our ideas. Very often starting a small business will provide not only the funds on how to spread whatever our beliefs are, but the vehicle to do so.

Despite big corporate business, we complain about the government and we are constantly bombarded with so much information that we feel the need to go out there and express everything we feel inside. We don’t complain, we do. Globalization has impacted us greatly. Unlike previous generations, with the advances in communication and networking, we are able to access all kinds of information. We see the world, we know the world, and this allows us to create (and promote) our own unique identity and ideas.

Many look down upon our generation. We’ve been called spoiled, self-centered and the idea of us being “branded” is viewed as if materialism was our sole passion. This is wrong. We are a brand; every young Gen-Yer is its own unique brand, ready to be out in the market selling, our voice and our beliefs for the betterment of our world and future.

Thanks for reading! -Dara Colwell, instructor

Stefania Herrera

It’s hard to imagine our lives without technology: Computers, Laptops, music players, cell phones, telephones and the most revolutionary, the Internet. All of these form part of our daily life, and living without them seems almost impossible now. So we wonder, how was it for our parents and grandparents or for all those contemporary adults who have been exposed to the revolutionary wonders of technology? In short terms, it has been a life changer. The impact technology has had on our society can truly be measured by the Generation X (adults born in the 60s and 70s) and how their lives have improved ever since the first commercial computer in 1975, the first cell phone in 1983, and even more so, the first computers with Internet in the 1990s. I will focus only on the past three decades and how the main three technological advances have influenced our lives, for the better or for the worst.

The main impact technology has had has been in opening a communication window for our society. “Being able to call my mother in an emergency, when I had to study late, was amazing. It allowed both of us to feel more safe,” says Dinorah Correa, a 47-year-old housewife living in the United States, when she reminisces about the impact her first cell  phone had in her life in the 1980s. Regardless of the fact that while house telephones had already been in use a century before cell phones entered the market, the way cell phones allowed everyone 24/7 access became this technology’s first revolutionary impact on society.

However this new device did not make its full impact until the following decade with the introduction of the Motorola Generation 2. Unlike the first mobile phone the second generation “had a more reliable signal, was smaller, including the battery size and it fit in your purse,” comments Correa The actual impact that mobile phones had on society was not notable the moment they entered the market; however over the past two decades (1990s-2000s) worldwide mobile phone subscriptions grew from 12.4 million to over 4.6 billion, showing how over time people have become more dependent on  cell phones and the impact it had on their ability to communicate whenever and wherever they wanted to.

Camillo Breddels

Pim started by telling me that he tends to be online so much that his family and colleagues worry when he is not.   You would think that a bus driver does not have the time or funds to afford a smart phone, but phone companies have cleverly set up payment plans which allows almost anyone to be able to Twitter, e-mail, or whatsapp regularly.   I then decided to ask him about moving to China, and how he feels about the Chinese government having blocked Google.   He told me that he had gone to France for the summer vacation and relied solely on his phone for navigation, communication, and planning.   When Pim lost reception at the border, he had to depend on the little French he learned back in primary school to find his way to his hotel.

Pim has grown so dependent on his social feeds that if his smart phone were ever to run out of batteries, his friends would most likely think that something catastrophic has occurred.  In fact, according to the New York Times, it seems that, “dependence on smartphones grows stronger with every new app.” Technology is advancing constantly, it seems as though every time I buy a new computer or phone, a more advanced one has already appeared to take its place.  Although it is always exciting to grab the latest edition of the hottest technological device, I am starting to realize that I have become annoyingly dependent on the abilities of my electronic devices.  The most disturbing part is that I have slowly turned into one of those ‘I would probably commit suicide without my phone’ people.  My phone dies sometimes, mainly because I do not charge it enough. When it does, I suddenly feel ill-equipped to handle the world.  This new wave of technology is dumbing the world down. I have joined the bandwagon, just as the other “73.3 million U.S. smartphone users in 2011 have,” according to the New York Times.

The students will be posting more in the coming weeks, and I will also provide a link to their blogs–which cover photography, music, being an exchange student, and general musings on the world. All in all, good reads!

–Dara Colwell (instructor, Digital Journalism)

Picnic 2011, the largest European festival on creativity and innovation, attracted over 5000 visitors from 33 countries including visitors from across Europe, the UK and North America, plus representatives from as far as Australia, Brazil, Hong Kong, Nigeria, Peru and South Africa.  Held this year at Amsterdam’s NDSM Werf, the festival’s main theme was Urban Futures with five sub-themes: Infrastructure, Sustainability, Society, Design and Media.

This years Open Data Hackathon took place at Appsterdam HQ.  A collaborative effort among several organisations including Picnic 2011, Appsterdam, ICE Amsterdam, Sanoma Media, Cition and the City of Amsterdam; the event brought together 50 app developers who formed teams to compete in a spirit of community to explore unconventional ways of using open data from the City of Amsterdam.  The common goal: using that data, to create a killer app in less time than it would normally take to get over a bad hangover.

Specifically, the challenge called for developers to go beyond concept all the way to a working app using the available data.  Difficult indeed! and as you can imagine not all the participants were able to complete their projects on time.  In the end, there were only five teams that went through to present their work to a crowd full of creative professionals expecting some serious results.

What the judges were looking for in the winning app was:

• Working Demo and Proof of Concept
• Use of Data
• Usefullness
• Original/Unique
• Business Potential
• Design

After the presentations and deliberation, the judges found Glimworm’s Park Shark app the winner, adding they were all very impressed considering the time given.  “We all live in Amsterdam” said Appsterdam’s Paul Darcy (referring to the judges), “and we were hoping for a helpful parking app and Park Shark really impressed all of us.”  During the presentation ceremony he asked Paul Manwaring how they did it in such a short amount of time; Mr. Manwaring’s answer was simply that- “we have been working together a long time and are used to putting their heads together under pressure.”

When you look at what they accomplished, you can see why the judges awarded the honor to the Glimworm team.  The Park Shark app they developed takes your current location and asks you to fill in where you want to park in Amsterdam, how you want to pay (ie, cash, pin or credit card), exactly when you plan on parking and for how long.  Using the data provided by the city, the app quickly displays a map showing where you want to park and all the parking meters in the immediate area.  But what makes it interesting is that it shows you how much it will cost you; look closer and little stars indicate less expensive meters near by with one indicating the cheapest price.  When you touch the parking icons the app shows you all the details and payment options.  Park Shark has an additional feature in the form of a button that reads – “Help Keep Amsterdam Green”.  Click it and you see information about public transportation, the Carbon footprint you would be making if you drove and a “donate” button to help the environment.

Since the win at Picnic 2011, Glimworm IT has been in touch with managers at Cition and ICE Amsterdam about making more data available as well as adding features that would help solve some of the City’s parking and congestion problems.  Glimworm also plans to meet soon with the City of Amsterdam about finishing Park Shark and making it available to the public for free.  If talks go well, Glimworm hopes to have the first version of Park Shark ready for release within a month or two.

Some helpful links:

www.glimworm.com

http://www.glimworm.com/glimworm-wint-het-picnic-2011-open-data-hackathon-evenement.shtml

http://www.picnicnetwork.org/news

http://www.picnicnetwork.org/conference_sessions/201

http://www.picnicnetwork.org/appsterdam-the-hackathon-and-an-interview-with-klaas-speller

http://www.appsterdam.com/

http://www.iceamsterdam.com/

http://www.dutchcowboys.nl/events/23114

The Webster Leiden Art Gallery presents the first show of the new academic year. ‘Traces’, a sculptural installation by French artist Jean-Philippe Paumier, featuring a series of works described as ‘unstill life’, opening Wednesday, August 24, 5-7pm.

Here is the artist’s statement:

My interest as a sculptor focuses on fluid and powdered materials, which I use for their specific qualities of instability and fragility. I consider the process of sculpting as a temporary moment of containing or freezing a given shape or object which then dissolves and frees itself through time or natural erosion. In my work I focus on slowing down this process of dissolution.

Traces refers to the process of creation and materialization. All of the works here have been obtained through casting or compacting, or distributing a raw material.

Fossil Sounds, made of plaster, plays fragments of a sort of reversed, negative music. Sweet Light deals with the metaphorical materialization of light poured on the floor, and Pure, while made of edible flour, is not at all consumable as such. In this show, I have worked to offer visitors insight into process, an experience of reflection on time and duration.

The work is momentary and fragile, and represents a sort of ‘’unstill’’ life.

~Jean-Philippe Paumier

The gallery is located in the Webster Arts Annex at:
Galgewater 1, 2311 VZ, Leiden

For more information email: gallery@webster.nl

The evening was divided into two parts.  The first was an interactive session, “The Multicultural Workplace,” led by Donna Driver-Zwartkruis, Adjunct Professor in Business Administration, Webster Leiden; Lecturer in the Faculty of Economics & Business VU, Amsterdam; and PhD candidate at The Union Institute & University Cincinnati Ohio, USA.

This session was based on a Harvard business case.  It concerns a firm, Fuller Fenton, which is located in the American Midwest. Prof. Driver began with a short presentation about the key characters and main incidents in the organization, followed by an interactive session with people in the audience working in teams of three or four; each team was assigned a specific task/question and a group discussion followed the team assignment.

The aims of the exercise were to:

• Develop awareness of the complexities of creating a multicultural organization
• Develop an appreciation for the social, cultural, historical, and situational factors that impinge on individual development and behavior, and thereby affecting organizational performance.
• Acquire an understanding of the need to increase our knowledge about emotional intelligence in an organizational context.

The second part was of the evening was devoted to the guests from the gulf region. They were Dr. Amal van Hees Hamidallah, Dr. Mohammed Al Roken, Jafar Alshayeb, Hala Aldosari, and Adel Al Qallaf.

Dr. van Hees is an Arab woman living in Netherlands who has extensive experience working on human rights and civil society empowerment issues.  She is the Director of the GCC (Gulf Cooperation Council) program at Bridging the Gulf, the Netherlands. She is a lawyer and has previously worked at Amnesty International Netherlands as a coordinator for the Middle East & North Africa region. She has been teaching NGOs studies at Webster University. She is a former UNESCO staff member and served as a Program Officer at the International Organization for Migration (IOM).

Dr. Al Roken is an Associate Professor of Public Law at the United Arab Emirates University (UAE) in Al Ain where he also served as the Vice Dean of the Faculty of Law (1998-2000). He directs Bridging the Gulf program for human rights education and awareness. Previously, he chaired the UAE Jurists Association (1998-2004) and he is currently the chairman of the Jurists Association (2010-2012). Dr. Al Roken is also the author of several published legal research papers, articles, and books.

Jafar Alshayeb, a well-known analyst of local political issues and reforms, was educated in the US. He is a regular commentator and analyst of local politics and reform issues in many influential Arab press and media channels. He heads local charity foundations and youth programs and sponsors “Tuesday Cultural Forum,” aiming to set the groundwork for dialogue on different social and political issues such as civil society, human and minority rights, and democratization. He participated in the National Dialogue Initiative in Saudi Arabia and serves as an active member in the National Society for Human Rights (Saudi Arabia), among many other positions.

Hala Aldosari, is a Saudi woman who lived in the US for three years while pursuing her graduate degree in health services research, and is now based in Jeddah. Her blog, Hala In US, is an extension of that experience. She writes for a Saudi daily newspaper and she posts in Arabic on her other blog, Hala Al-Dosari.

Hala Aldosari talked about her own experience as a woman employee in the health field. She said that she and her other female colleagues are treated equally by their male co-workers, and assumes that if more women show their strong will to work, they can actually fulfill their desire of self-realization. She said that together with other women they gather and talk about issues, and try to reach out to their communities. She also added that women receive the equal education as men in the region, however they are not able to find the same jobs.

Dr. van Hees also advocated change.  She said that they are working to tackle those challenges in innovative way and it shows the need for active citizenship and an active society. Her Bridging the Gulf organization tries to empower people to work more in their communities for change. Change not only in law, but also change in mentalities and face-to-face dialogue can make the difference.

She says that there is a need is to explain, raise awareness, and educate the population on basic norms, that maybe the outside world calls them universal human rights, but they are also enshrined in the local culture and that needs to be more highlighted. Change, whether in laws, mentalities, or behaviors, needs to be locally owned.

Jafar Ashayeb remembered his childhood when Sunni and Shia children studied together in the same schools, shared each other’s religious holidays and had a peaceful relationship with each other. Apparently pressure and the changes that affected the region impacted negatively decades of peaceful coexistence.

All of the guests spoke of the multiple issues and challenges facing the region as a whole, but still remained optimistic for the future. They stressed the need to support locally owned positive social change. The region with its diversity, culture, Islamic and Arabic background has lot of potential not only at the economic level. We should also focus on the human factor that is very important; youth and women are key groups and we will need to support and help them in reaching their full potential.

By Ian Buruma for Der Spiegel

Two utterly contradictory images of the Netherlands circulate in the international press. One is the idea of a wild, unruly place where policemen smoke marijuana, gay men dance in the streets, and euthanasia can be arranged in an instant, a multiculti society that is so tolerant that even violent Islamic extremists are subsidised by the state. This caricature is especially popular in the United States.

Geert Wilders in Denmark

But after the sudden emergence of populist demagogues, such as Pim Fortuyn and Geert Wilders, who rant and rave about the “Islamisation” of Europe, a very different image has dominated the press: a country of reactionaries and racists, leading the rest of Europe in a march towards a new dawn of fascism.

Both images are wildly exaggerated, of course. And both seem to contradict Heinrich Heine’s famous notion that in placid, sleepy, bourgeois Holland everything happens 50 years later than everywhere else. They also contradict the image of a calm, phlegmatic people, who can never get excited about anything. In fact, on the whole, people are relatively calm in the Netherlands. But there is indeed something a little frenzied about the new populism, exemplified by Geert Wilders, just as there was something overexcited about the social changes in the 1960s: sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll as a reaction to centuries of dull Calvinism. Long periods of calm, then, occasionally interrupted by bouts of hysteria. That might sum up much of Dutch social history.

The radical reaction to faith

The populism of Fortuyn and Wilders actually reflects both images of the Netherlands, reactionary on the one hand, and oddly modern on the other. Wilders hates being compared to such leaders of the far right as France’s Jean-Marie Le Pen. And Fortuyn was openly, flamboyantly homosexual, something no other European right-wing demagogue would dream of emulating, not even the late Jörg Haider, whatever his habits might have been in private.

The far right in France, Austria, Belgium, Italy or Germany is associated with a tradition of fascism or Nazism. There is a direct line between the Action Francaise and Le Pen, or Mussolini and various far right parties in Italy. The Netherlands had a National Socialist movement in the 1930s, to be sure, but the anti-Islamic demagogues of today have little in common with the prewar blackshirts. Fortuyn was once a socialist, who took up an anti-Muslim agenda because he saw Islam as a threat to gay rights and other cherished fruits of the social revolution in the 1960s. As he once famously put it: “I don’t see why we should fight for gay rights and female emancipation all over again.”

He is not the only person to talk like this. Quite a few former leftists have joined the hysterical chorus about an impending “Eurabia”. In the Netherlands, many leftists who came of age in the 1960s grew up in conservative, often religious families. Their rebellion was often as zealous as the institutions they rebelled against. The idea that religion is once again a serious factor in Dutch society, this time in the shape of Islam, fills them with rage.

In other respects, Fortuyn was closer to more traditional populist demagogues. He attacked the “elites,” encouraged a cult of the strong leader (himself), and promised a way back to a more disciplined, mono-ethnic, mono-cultural society — as if such a society ever really existed.

Defending the ‘gay capital of the world’

One thing that distinguishes Wilders from some of his populist colleagues in other parts of Europe, is a somewhat sinister form of philosemitism, which is driven by his loathing of Islam. A frequent visitor to Israel, Wilders approves of the Israeli hard line on the Arab population. He also finds support among right-wing Jewish organisations in the US, where he finds sympathetic audiences, often in synagogues, for his diatribes against Islam. One wonders what his audience at an “anti-Jihad conference” in Jerusalem made of his remark that Muslims were threatening Amsterdam’s status as the “gay capital of the world.” But this observation says something about the peculiar nature of modern Dutch populism.

Wilders, and before him Pim Fortuyn, is exploiting anxieties that go beyond the fear of Islam. A combination of economic globalization, murky EU politics, financial crises and uncontrolled immigration has eroded many people’s trust in traditional politics and undermined their sense of belonging. More and more voters, in Europe as well as the US, feel unrepresented by the traditional parties. Old neighbourhoods have been changed by immigration, and the sense of national identity has been shaken.

Queen Beatrix’s ‘multi-culti nonsense’

The social democratic elites are blamed for these anxieties. They are blamed for having allowed so many immigrants to settle in Europe, after welcoming them as guest workers or asylum-seekers. They are also blamed for having discredited national pride by promoting a pan-European identity and multiculturalism. These accusations are not entirely unjust. It is true, in Germany for obvious reasons, but in the Netherlands too, that the expression of national sentiments almost became a taboo after World War II. Such feelings were confined to the football stadiums, which functioned as places of last resort to let off patriotic steam, especially when the Netherlands was playing Germany. The EU, alas, is neither democratic, nor can it replace the nation as a focus of popular sentiment.

This would not have mattered so much in itself. But coupled with economic anxiety, as well as fear of violent terrorist attacks, it has become a serious problem. In times of high anxiety, the easiest thing is to turn those anxieties into aggression against unpopular minorities. The fact that a violent revolutionary movement has emerged from the Islamic world, and that some people are prepared to commit atrocities in the name of their faith, has made this problem worse. But the real target of popular discontent, certainly in the Netherlands, is not the Muslims themselves, but the liberal elite that allowed them to settle there. And so Dutch populism contains an odd paradox. Even as the demagogues talk about resisting intolerant Muslims in the name of traditional Dutch liberty, the tolerance promoted for decades by the liberal establishment is denounced as well, as typical elitist propaganda.

Not long ago, if you asked a Dutch person what the Dutch identity was, he would probably have included tolerance, openness to other cultures, and hospitality to foreigners. Whether this kind of self-congratulation was truly justified is questionable. But the attitude among Wilders’ supporters now is that tolerance has gone too far, that the multicultural society is a terrible failure, and that “foreigners” (even if they are citizens born in the Netherlands) must be forced to assimilate or be kicked out. When queen Beatrix pleaded for tolerance in her Christmas speech a few years ago, Wilders expressed his disgust for what he called the queen’s “multi-culti nonsense.”

Tea with Muslims, as a Jew

The question, then, in the Netherlands as well as other democracies, is how to restore confidence in liberal politics. Without wishing to revive the more dogmatic forms of multiculturalism, which sees assimilation, or even integration into mainstream society, as a kind of cultural betrayal, people in the Netherlands, as well as other parts of Europe, will have to get used to treating immigrants from non-Western countries as equal citizens. This also goes for European Muslims. Only then can the violent revolutionary element be effectively isolated.

In fact, the reality in the Netherlands is not as bad as the harsh rhetoric of populists might suggest. Geert Wilders is popular, but not nearly as popular as the former social democratic mayor of Amsterdam, Job Cohen. Ever since he tried to calm things down in Amsterdam after the murder of Theo van Gogh by a young Muslim terrorist, he has been attacked by his critics as a cowardly appeaser of Islamic extremism. He personifies, in the eyes of his enemies, the liberal elitism and soft tolerance that people blame for everything, from street crime in immigrant neighbourhoods to violent Islamist extremism.

It is true that Cohen did his best to talk to Muslim citizens, to drink tea in mosques, and to take the problems of immigrants seriously. He did this, as he himself has often pointed out, because he knows what it is like to be excluded. Cohen is from a secular Jewish family. His parents survived the Nazis’ attempt to exterminate them.

Since the Netherlands has a complicated system of proportional representation, it is by no means certain that Cohen’s Labour will manage to form a majority government, despite his high personal standing. But his chances of becoming prime minister is much better than the chances of Wilders taking power with his one-man Party for Freedom (PVV). Even if Cohen succeeds, the problems of terrorism, street crime, or economic anxiety, will not disappear. But the Netherlands will have a better chance to restore a degree of sanity, and be a country that is neither wild, nor bigoted, but the calm bourgeois place it should be.

Published: 9 June 2010 12:15 | Changed: 9 June 2010 17:20

NRC Handelsblad



Webster University Leiden, Professor Roland Stelter

A collection of student created photographs

Fragile Being, Dani Plox 2011

Man Beneath an Arch Luxembourg City, Caillin Murray 2011

De Negen Straatjes Amsterdam, Andrea Nerep 2011

Coupole Cathédrale Saints-Michel-et-Gudule, Bruxelles, Emily Manker 2011

Man in Thought, Adam Howard, 2011

Untitled, Fabienne Kronenburg, 2011

View from Window, Carlos Burgos, 2011

Untitled, Isabelle Furby, 2011

Wet, Laura Oñate Madrazo, 2011

Student contributions edited by Camilo Breddels, Fabienne Kronenburg, Alexander Mend, Valerie Zwart.

Photo courtesy of Emily Manker

An Overview of the Berlin Trip

By Valerie Zwart

During the class excursion to Berlin, we visited a number of institutions and venues which typified various aspects of Media – communications, photography and design, to name a few. We traveled from Amsterdam on Sunday afternoon and arrived in Berlin in time to enjoy dinner at an old city mainstay, the Hackescher Hof, which was designed with the clear influence of the Parisian grand café. After dinner, a part of the group took in Berlin by night, receiving a guided tour of the city’s main avenues, buildings, and historically significant sights from Mr Stelter.

After a restful night, glass shower experience and bountiful breakfast at our vibrantly designed hotel, we set off by train to the NS-Zwangsarbeit Memorial museum. We spent time walking somberly through a barracks used to lodge forced labour workers during the war, imagining their life as prisoners of war in the middle of a typical Berlin neighborhood. Another of the barracks on the compound has been transformed into a gallery and seminar space. Currently on display in the gallery is a photo documentary taken last year by Mr Stelter. The photos poignantly depict a former forced labour worker, Mrs. Zhuk, at home in the Ukraine, as well as document her relationship with her granddaughter, who helped bring her story into the light.

Later that afternoon, we were welcomed into the creatively-designed office space of Zenon Concept, an interior and architectural design firm. The founders of Zenon took time to discuss with us everything from their design aesthetic to their decentralized leadership hierarchy and teamwork to the logistics of realizing their concepts under intense time pressure. We left in awe of the high-quality, highly creative projects they have produced in their 20 years of existence.

That evening, we walked through the fascinating Mitte district to Café Haliflor, a bar created and run by Andi Knauer, a creative under-40 entrepreneur. When asked about his design strategy, he denied having any concrete strategy besides the vision to create a place that he himself genuinely liked. “I just wanted it to be…true,” he added. We were joined later in the bar by Barçin Uluisik, a young, high-energy activist who works as a researcher for Powerbase (a project of the UK-based NGO SpinWatch), an information database dedicated to profiling government members’ links to outside organizations. She encouraged aspiring activists to volunteer for a cause and see where it takes them.

We spent our last morning in Berlin at Kicken Berlin, a gallery specializing in 19th and 20th-century photography. Since its foundation the gallery has explored the relationship between photography and the other arts in over 220 exhibitions. After  lunch at Pasternak, a Russian Jewish restaurant named in honor of the famed author of Dr. Zhivago, we were escorted to the airport by Mr Stelter, where we said our goodbyes to Berlin, and stepped on the plane to return to Amsterdam.

Slogans for the Trip

Create. Berlin.

Berlin – find the artist within.

BERLIN. Let your walls fall down.

Stay contemporary – stay in Berlin.

History in the present – the present history.

Berlin – you choose how to discover the city we’re in.

3 days, 2 nights, and 1 glass shower – The Ber-Leiden Trip.

A trip to remember – what not to forget … Berlin.

Experience beauty, experience Berlin.

Never have I ever been to Berlin.

Be cool. Burr–lin.

Berlin-beings.

The students enjoy a frolic in the playground.

Photo courtesy of Emily Manker

Berlin Haiku

By Charlie Braswell

Amsterdam, Berlin

Go and discover

Imagination

Organizational Structures Reflected in Architecture and Design

By Juanita Garcia

Organizational structures were each unique to the spaces we visited in Berlin. At Zenon Concepts’ office, a visitor can see the team environment in their circular office design. Kicken Berlin’s gallery emphasized the art. While at Haliflor, there was a clear leader and hierarchy in a space that calls to mind a recent past and Barack 13 brings to mind a dark chapter of Berlin’s history. These organizational structures are reflected in the design and function of their spaces.

Zenon Concepts’ office was arranged in a circular layout with glass walls between teams with specialized tasks. Teams worked together in offices in clusters of desks and computers. The organization is based on collaboration between teams. Each member of the team understands the scope of their work but also the interdependence of how the project relates to the responsibilities of the other team members. Members of the organization are all working on more than one project at different stages. Information is often moving quickly depending on the stage of the project and the number of people involved at that point in the project.

Kicken Berlin’s gallery space focused on the displayed collection of photography. The design of the building is beautiful from the displays of photographs behind glass outside the building and the outdoor bamboo garden adjacent to and visible within the gallery space. The organizational structure was hidden from view. Even the space for the receptionist was almost hidden from view of visitors. The contributions of the individuals of the organization are secondary to the photography. The decisions of the organization are primarily made by the leader of the organization and driven by collectors/and buyers of photography.

Haliflor has a deliberate appearance of interior design to look as if it has been there for decades longer than the 10 years it has been a fixture in Berlin. The owner has been developing the design and appearance of the bar with time. He is the clear leader with a singular vision of the space that is almost intuitive. The decorations on the walls are deliberately sparse with hanging art. The interior blends new elements with existing elements. The flooring was deliberately treated to look as if it had been there for decades. The wrought iron stair railing was created with cut rings of pipe in various diameters. The bar’s organization is unique so that new hires go through an informal two month training process.

Barack 13 at the Dokumentationszentrum NS Zwangsarbeit in Schöneweide has an architecture and organization that reflects that its past as a forced labor camp. The fence and threats kept the inmates inside. Standing in Barack 13, a current visitor can feel the cold that greeted the inmates when they walked into the building. The inmates were housed in smaller rooms with rows of beds. The occupants must not have known all of the other occupants. In many cases, the inmates may not have had a language in common, as they were gathered from all over Europe. The cellar of the building still had writing and scratches on the walls, a reminder of the need to communicate felt by the inmates. In Barack 13’s current state as a museum, the rooms are stripped of any furniture or decoration. They contain only quotes from former forced workers printed on signs arranged so that each room has a theme from sickness to bathing. The cold stark surroundings allow the visitor to imagine the barracks with the words from the previous inmates.

Each organization reflects Berlin’s culture and yet makes a contribution. Zenon Concepts interior design and fair stands  recall elements cultivated from cultural icons. Kicken Berlin is influential in the photography collecting market and Haliflor as a cross cultural meeting place. The architecture of Barack 13 reflects the dark past of Berlin. Ludwig Mies van der Rohe in his inaugural address at the Illinois Institute of Technology in 1938 said:

We must be as familiar with the functions of our buildings as with our materials. We must learn what a building can be, what it should be, and also what it must not be… And just as we acquaint ourselves with materials, just as we must understand functions, so we must become familiar with the psychological and spiritual factors of our day. No cultural activity is possible otherwise.

The Berlin Experience

By Alexander Mend

As I entered the EasyJet airplane destined to a city I have never before set foot on, I did not know what to expect of this trip. A city bigger than Amsterdam in every aspect, Berlin had a rich history along with the artistic culture, I know I was stepping into something new. However, my journey had a rough start.

After landing in Berlin, I was making my way out of the building through security. The girls in our class went through without any problem. When Camilo and I came up, they stopped us and asked us for our passports. They looked at my passport and back at me several times before placing the card under light to check its authenticity. After letting me through, I stopped to wait for my friend. Then two men came up to me asking me questions about my nationality in German. As soon as Camilo joined me, we were forcefully guided into a room with an x-ray machine. After we told them we came from Amsterdam, they instructed us to put our bags on the machine. When they obviously saw nothing illegal occurred, they let us go. But that still angered me, because it was the first time I was ever stopped at an airport. I remember thinking that I should have shaved my beard, because of the racial profiling issue. As I left the building I had a feeling this trip was going to be horrible, but the following days will prove otherwise.

My interest in Berlin started on the way to the hotel. I was surprised by the size of the trains in Germany and the technology used everyday life. The major trains are three stories as opposed to the two in the Netherlands. The platform signs at most tram and train stops are digital, instead of the old school, mechanical signs. The hotel itself utilized advanced technology. For example, the hotel key, a card that can be used to access the elevator, unlock your room door, and turn on electricity in the room. Now while that may be available in almost all developed countries, the cheap price of the hotel room (30 euros a night, breakfast included) for the high-tech in the hotel blew my mind.

Another surprise was the price of beer in Berlin. At 1.40 euros for a quarter of a liter, any alcoholic will be happy to live in Berlin. However, I would rather stay in Amsterdam. I find the Dutch people more open than Germans, which will ultimately lead to a nice conversation. After that customs “incident” I see Germans more judgmental. Now that does not mean they don’t throw a nice party on a Monday night, but that is a story reserved for another time.

These Cold, Stone Walls

Anonymous

I have nothing but stone walls,

Tired, starving inmates,

Bugs in my bed,

And weapons in my face.

I hold on to the last ounce of hope I have

And try not to show that I’m frightened.

I am worked and watched, punished and mocked

From the day’s start until the night’s end.

Winter came around

The nights were unbearably cold.

Portions of meals were saved.

For extra clothing, they were sold.

I have no privacy.

I am reaped of my dignity and pride.

And my emotions of fear, sadness, and loneliness…

In a much darker place I must hide

Outside my window I see people

Living free underneath blue skies.

But behind this barbed-wire fence,

They just avert their eyes.

I am a prisoner here.

What for?

All I can count on

Is the end of this war.

The Leftovers

By Andrea Nerep

She was the kind of girl that bothered me from the first moment I saw her. Whenever she talked she always had that annoying smile on her face that I wished to wipe off.  Most of the things that she said in class sounded like mouth diarrhoea to me. When I found out that we were the only two people in the class who did not have anyone to share room with in Berlin, the leftovers, I was not thrilled.

Sharing a hotel room for two nights with someone one thinks less than little of is not a big issue, or at least it shouldn’t be, but for me it is. I am the kind of person who tightens my fists out of frustration when someone annoying is around. I do not share smiles in order to be polite or sympathetic and I do not laugh when jokes are not funny.  Having all of these disadvantages makes it really hard to be nice when one does not wish to.

When she approached me at the airport, smiling, of course, I took a deep breath in order to control myself from being rude. Knowing that I had to spend some time with her, I decided to give her a second chance. After all, I am very well aware of that I can be a little bit harsh on judging people up front. My irritation towards some people is usually not based on solid or even valid grounds but oftentimes rather bitterness. I really have no reason to be bitter, it is just a part of my character, and I was born like this.

I thought it would be a good idea to ask her what she did last night. She looked like something the cat had swallowed and spit up so I assumed that she had been partying.  She answered my question with a little bit too much of information by telling me that she had been out in a club, that she got really drunk and had puked in the middle of the dance floor. She simply did not know what to be excluded when making conversation.

I let the puke-story pass my mind in order to stay positive. I am not prude in any way; I can easily listen to stories that have a touch of randomness or bizarreness but still I was not the least fond of her story. Getting too drunk and acting out of control is tacky.

She started to ask me a lot of questions, about what I had done, why I came to Webster University and so on, and since it seemed as if she was listening with a genuine interest to what I had to say, I continued to inform her. Whenever I find that someone is genuine my impression of that person is suddenly improved. In my opinion, that is a rare quality in someone. Soon enough I was to find out that she was not that hideous that I had expected her to be. In fact, she was not bad at all.

When we came to the restaurant in Berlin where all students at the field trip were to have dinner I naturally chose to sit next to her. To my disappointment, the four people surrounding me, including my colleague leftover, ordered sodas instead of alcohol. I am Swedish and Swedish people tend to be quite fond of alcohol. I also get a bit uncomfortable drinking alone. After one soda she started to order wine as well and then our conversation became really vivid. I found out that she was passionate about dance and that she was issuing an application to a dance academy this year. When she talked about dance her whole face lightened up and I somehow got touched by her interest. Nowadays,  I seldom meet people with one great passion and when I do I really appreciate it to see that one has a desired ambition or objective in mind.  I wish I had that.

I wanted to see her dance skills so we decided to go to the only club that was open in Berlin on a Sunday evening. We ended up having a great time, fun conversations and a lot of dancing and undoubtedly she is an excellent dancer.

The next morning we had to go up way to early considering how late we went to sleep. Together we managed the day visiting several interesting venues that Mr Roland Stelter had managed to list on a very tight schedule. My Berlin trip turned out to be very agreeable.

I took some pictures of her and on every picture she smiles with such happiness but yet with a glimpse of seriousness in her eyes. This picture I am especially fond of and now when I look at it, I really don’t understand why I once was so bothered by her very cute smile.

Helena’s smile.

Photo courtesy of Andrea Nerep

History (His-Story)

By Camilo Breddels

Camilo Breddels, a young adolescent enrolled in Leiden Webster University, was one of 19 students fortunate enough to attend an academic-related trip to Berlin.  Camilo explains how at first he felt overwhelmed.  It was his first time going to Germany, and the very little knowledge he held were mainly those of his grandparents.  His grandparents were both born in Rotterdam, they were both very young when the German bombings took place in 1940.  “Of course there are still always some who will say they feel a certain way because of what happened, but the truth is the majority are generally more so filled with sorrow,” he states. “Pointing fingers never really is a solution to any situation,” he exclaims. “After all, my father has been working for a German company my entire life,” he continues. “No friction between him and my grandfather exists, it was never about hatred,” he states, “for my grandparents it was simply about the pain both sides had to go endure.”

“The real tension was right before we landed in Berlin which left me dwelling with all these overpowering emotions inside of right before I stepped outside,” he says.  “It is too easy not to try, there is too much to dismiss so foolishly,” he concludes by expressing his great feeling of magnitude, “I thought I would only like their beer, but I ended up liking everything but their beer!”

Barrack 13

By Maxime van der Donk

It is cold inside the barrack, and even though we try to sit close to one another, I can barely feel my feet. The girl sitting next to me looks exhausted. She is emaciated and has extremely thin brown hair. I can see her shivering. She is wearing the same clothes as I am. We all wear the same clothes every day. The clothes are tainted in a smelly brown accompanied by whole lot of holes, which carry down to our black-checkered pants. They haven’t been washed since the first day that I came to the barracks. I can still remember that day as it was yesterday. The war against Germany was at full blast, I was still with my whole family at home in The Hague at that time. We always tried to store as much food as possible throughout the year in case we lacked it during the cold winters.

When the winter was finally over and we finished all our food, I was designated to go out and buy some food, it was the 24^th of April, and the year was 1943. It was not very busy that day on the streets. When I was almost at my destination, two German men grabbed me by the arms and pulled me into an army trunk. I did not know who they were nor did I know what to do. I screamed as loud as I could, but the streets were empty, nobody could hear me. The trunk kept driving for almost 12 hours. When it stopped, I was in the middle of a neighborhood. I did not have a lot of time to look around, but suddenly I saw a little supermarket called: ‘Berliner Market’. I could not believe my eyes: “Am I really in Berlin? What am I doing here? Do my parents know where I am?”

The two Germans who pulled my hair and dragged me into a cold barrack, it was midnight and the only thing I saw were people…lots of people. They were all wearing the same clothes and slept on very small beds. The smell of sweat was surrounding me the entire time and before I knew it, the German guy handed me the exact same set of clothes. “Put it on! Quickly!” he yelled to me in German.

The girl next to me was still shivering. She had still not talked to me, it seemed like the common thing to do here. They do not like to share their thoughts and feelings. Some write things down on the wall to express themselves, others do it just to count the days. I look at the old and dirty t-shirt of the girl next to me. You can see from her t-shirt that she has been trough a lot. There are a lot of wholes in it and behind it are some clear bruises. On her I see a number. Her number is 467. All of the people in the barracks have their own number. I do not think they even know my real name. The numbers are pinned on to each t-shirt and since I am number 498, the girl must have arrived here a few days before me. I try to make eye contact, but she keeps staring at the ground.

Suddenly she looks at me. She has big brown eyes and looks extremely tired. She is rather quite. Suddenly she asks me in poor English: “What is your name?” I was surprised she talked to me. She had an Italian accent. “I am Maxime, what is your name?” I answered. She ignored my question and continued staring at the ground. “Are you cold?” I ask her, while staring at the ground she says, “Yes, I am always cold during the winter in the barrack, but I like the winters more than summers. The summers are too hot for me.” She is definitely right, the winters in the barracks are extremely cold and summers are way too hot. Since we do not get a lot of food and drinks, it is almost impossible to work during summertime.

“Once I saw an old woman,” the girl says. “It was during the winter of 1943, the woman was probably about 60 years old. We did not have enough food and everybody was hungry. We complained day after day, but they refused to give us more food. As you know, we usually get soup and some bread in the morning. We just eat the soup in the morning and save the bread for the evening. This time, we did not get the bread. We had to work all day long and when we returned to the barracks we did not have any food left. The old woman was able to steal some food from the Germans. She could only find one piece of bread but shared it with all of us.

Suddenly the Germans entered the barrack and one German man yelled: “Who stole bread?” The old women understood German, came forward and admitted to her fault. They kicked her brutally while we watched them pull hair out of her head. She had to stay all outside all night in the back of the barrack. When we woke up the next morning at 4 am to work in the battery factory, we saw her. She was dead.  She had froze to death the night before”. The girl cries softly. “I still feel guilty everyday.”

I put my arm around her. “I have experienced something similar,” I said. “I was once outside the barracks. Polish people were begging me for food. A little boy came to me and told me he was hungry. He looked at me with his sad eyes. The ‘P’ on his t-shirt was almost bigger than his own hands. But it was not only the ‘P’ that made it clear that he was Polish. You could notice it from his body, he was extremely thin and you could nearly count all of his ribs. It was terrifying and I really wanted to help the boy, so I gave him my piece of bread. A German Nazi saw this, kicked the boy in his stomach until he bled. I do not know what happened after that. It is a horrible memory, I still have nightmares sometimes about it”. She looks at me with sadness in her eyes.

I told her that it was terrible over here, I cannot wait ‘till the war is over…but maybe this is just a silly dream and we will be prisoners forever”. The girl looks at me and holds my hand. Then she says: “My name is Sandra and you and I, will make it to freedom!”

Berlin Kicks

By Valerie Zwart

Old Prussia to Pop Culture, the spectrum splayed

across the well-shelved walls of two rooms

Love-child of East and West in forty meters squared

Industry and art, function and frivolity co-habiting

in the tight confines of a shoe shop.

Fragmented pairs of data points, leather creases,

Traded-in lives, resoled identities, heels ground down askew

There is a strange unity to the disparate muss of

Colour and texture and story – each pair screams

TIE ME ZIP ME BUTTON ME ON AND REMEMBER

The stiff cognac Oxfords smelling of old money and restraint choose the shabby-suited man who cannot forgive himself for his bottomless porte-monnaie. Even to turn out its well-papered insides would not plaster a way over the wall for the beloved aunt and uncle. They who clothed him when he was small now wither behind stone.

The shapeless felt boots, soft gray look of the stuff belying its wiry sharpness, choose the cold-calloused feet which will shuffle them West across the bridge. No skipping, no joy. There is only a great tiredness suffocated between the layers of densely-spun fuzz.

The neon red patent leather slingbacks are all hard edges and square toes. They choose the power woman who cakes her mouth with the same harsh orange-red lipstick they all wear to make it in the 90s – that hue that insists, I am IT, I am the sexiest man I can be. I am modern, I am jumping in, and I will outbusiness the rest of you pussies.

The whimsical seaglass-green cowboy boots (broken in more aptly on a dusty stage in a Nashville bar) choose instead the dreadlocked girl who traipses them through graffiti-drenched streets and into squatted walk-ups. The buzz comes from art, cheap beer, cheap smokes, the thrill of being young, and the search for relevance. This 150-proof energy keeps the boots polished and the city gritty.

Who can lay rightful claim to it? Berlin is not

catalogued neatly into shelf-life with

the shoes who have walked in its ever-shifting grid, but

these bits of leather felt plastic rubber

have left a tread with a fearsome half-life –

they are the city, the city is them.

Berlin: Where Eyes Grow Old and Hearts Go Bold

By Helena Veum

I came to realize that the media has one voice. The media expresses and proposes before it spurs into a voice conceived in the mind, and therefore there is no space for us to reply to it. The only position it leaves us in, is to consider, be inspired or to make a choice. In Berlin I was shocked at the lack of our universal language, but the lack of English developed into becoming and luxurious and liberating state. I experienced Berlin without the media telling me what to think, where to go and what to do. My eyes were free to see what they saw and think what I thought.

Berlin hasn’t become a victim of its history, nor is the history hidden. I came to Berlin with superstition and sharpened eyes, but the city was energetic, modern and ambitious.

The ruptured structure and brutal beauty was like the shadow of the city and caught my attention the most.

Being in Berlin evoked confusion. The logic was funny because it was random and contradictional like life. Berlin also brought insight. There was a sadness and a negativity covering the city like a big, consistent, grey cloud. But there is equally much depth, value and beauty in negative as in positive. Negative is a matter of space. The streets were strong and urban, but there was something in the air suggesting silence and humbleness.

It was uncomfortable being among so many historical museums. It gave me a rather empty feeling. I was thinking about all the footsteps that have taken place in the museum, thoughts and feelings that were triggered there and all the people that have visited. How long does it take before a museum becomes a museum in itself? A paradox, because I imagine it can’t. When we visited the forced labor memorial museum I concluded that the position or situation from when art is created is very relevant for the amount of respect, attention and value it is given. Because once we know where the motive came from, it can change the whole picture.

I was wondering, who are the German people? I didn’t get to meet and talk to so many people. I think Germans are busy people in general. The graffiti revealed a lot and felt more like insights than statements. I didn’t feel obliged to admire the art and therefore i didn’t judge it. The graffiti was both political and personal, a strong combination.

The rotten, empty, broken houses and railways covered with provocative, humorous, beautiful and colorful graffiti gave Berlin its own timing, balance and life in a sense. It felt like they were sad faces staring at you, but really you were the one looking, giving these buildings a soul.

The Best Job in Berlin

By Fabienne Kronenburg

It had been a year since Ingrid Tupolev began her very first grown up job.  Unlike her previous attempts at being gainfully employed, she was now absolutely certain that her work contributed to something fantastic – and that her presence had become a fundamental part of her employers success. The weight of responsibility that she and her coworkers bravely bore on a daily basis had become a part of their very constitution; an awareness so powerful that it was palpable even beyond the pristine walls surrounding them. One could even say that recognizing the importance of oneself is a primary company objective. These days, in her line of work, a day rarely passed without her coming into contact with some of the most impressive citizens of Berlin; the crème de la crème, the fat cats, the movers and shakers, if you will.

In the 365 days since our Ingrid first set foot in the building, she, like her coworkers, had learned the importance of functioning to the best of ones ability and fostering a unified and productive work environment. She often delighted in the idea that they are similar to a well-oiled machine, each performing a task that together make up one of the greatest contributions to society one could ever hope to be a part of.  Aside from possessing a mind uniquely capable of conjuring up such creative imagery, Ingrid is acutely aware of the fact that she is amongst the most competent and efficient in her field.  Even more so, she is now reasonably certain that eventually her spirit and tenacity would one day lead her to even greater heights.  For the first time in many years, she rediscovered a deep-seated awareness that it is very likely that she is special.

Born to Nina Tupolev on October 9^th, 1985, our Ingrid spent her formative years in the Marzahn district of Berlin. Mother Nina however did not; her grand arrival on German soil had only occurred 13 months prior to Ingrid’s.  Fueled by her appetite for fortune and fame, Nina Tupolev found her way to Berlin following a daring escape from what would have a quiet life as a farmer’s wife in her native Slovakia. At 5ft3 and possessing a rather bovine form of beauty, Nina was considered to be one of the better women in the village. The longing stares of the local men did nothing but feed Nina’s vanity, which ultimately led her to conclude that she was destined for things far greater than the simple life that lay ahead of her. It became increasingly obvious to her that she belonged in a world filled with glamour and beauty; her true home must be Hollywood.

Sadly Nina’s dream of being a Hollywood starlet never came to fruition, though it should come as no surprise that she did find a career in the field of performance art. Each night as she takes the stage she finds herself reflecting on what her life would have been if she had stayed in that village, and wishes to all that is holy that everyone that doubted her could see how many more of those longing stares she gets now. Unfortunately her life in the fast lane did come with a certain amount of risk, the most prominent being that so much male attention could lead to a debilitating illness; a parasitic infestation leaving the carrier permanently damaged with decreased functioning in certain vital organs.  Nine months later Nina began her recovery, and unwillingly found herself saddled with the responsibility of motherhood.

Ingrid learned at a very early age that she and her mother were nothing alike. Nina observed that unlike her own deftly defined physique Ingrid was a stocky child, with more masculine features and an impressively large hook nose.  Throughout the years Nina attempted to give Ingrid a more feminine appearance, being sure to never let her out the door without her pink lipstick and refusing to cut her hair. Despite her best efforts, by the time Ingrid was four she despairingly conceded to the reality that her own daughter would never match her own beauty, and gave up.

It was at this age that Ingrid discovered the true strengths she possessed.   “ Ha! He looks just like you! The best thing you ever did for me was poke a hole in my tummy on the way out with that nose of yours,” her mother slurred at her one night as they watched a rerun of Woody the Woodpecker. “I’m pretty sure it’s the only reason why you’re the only one who ever made it out of there alive” She continued, smiling, impressed by her own humor before promptly passing out.  Four year old Ingrid deducted that the greatest moment of joy she shared with her mother was somehow due to her spectacularly developed septum, and that she was very likely part woodpecker.

As her first foray into the field of ornithology, Ingrid studied and mimicked the behavior of the woodpecker.  She began gleefully pecking at various objects and at all those around her, thrilled to discover that her new identity garnered a fair amount of attention amongst her peers.  Just like her mother, everyone was staring at her and she thoroughly enjoyed how special she now felt.  Encouraged by the positive reactions, Ingrid expanded her pecking repertoire to include various forms of motorized vehicles alongside the road, pedestrians she did not personally know, and walls. The latter was chosen by Ingrid specifically because she noticed that all the adults kept talking about how stupid walls are, and considering that with great power comes great responsibility she felt that it was her duty to use her powers to help them get rid of the walls.  The more she pecked at the walls, the happier everyone seemed to be about it. She was certain that she had found her true calling, and that she would grow up to be hero.  Unfortunately her enthusiasm got the best of her and it wasn’t long before she accidentally broke her beak.  Like so many before her who rose too rapidly to positions of power, she became greedy and found that her hunger for more had destroyed her gift and would ultimately become her undoing.

Now, many years later Ingrid once again felt that spark, that certainty that her actions would help make the world a better place.  “This time it will be different,” she mumbled to herself as she sat behind the front desk, her desk at Gallery Kicken Berlin.  Indeed, this time she had truly found the one place where she fit in perfectly without even really having to try.

Photo courtesy of Fabienne Kronenburg

While I only managed to see one film at this year’s Rotterdam International Film Festival, I think I got the right one.  Adolfo B. Alix Jr., a prolific young film-maker from The Philippines, had two recent films in the festival and I attended the early morning screening of his controversial social realist film, ‘Chassis’.  Never afraid to tackle difficult subjects, Alix has so far found it impossible to get a certificate for this particular film to be shown at public cinemas in The Philippines. While the film is ultimately about the power of love to make the most unimaginable poverty bearable, less-forgiving critics and government censors have focused on the film’s ending, which involves a desperate and violent act of revenge.

Lovingly shot in black & white, with minimal dialogue and no music, the film tells the story of Nora, a young mother who struggles to bring up her young daughter, sheltering  beneath the trucks and trailers of a busy dockside loading yard. Her feckless husband, a lorry driver, spends much of his time sleeping off late nights in a hammock suspended beneath the vehicles and waiting for his next job opportunity.  Meanwhile, Nora busies herself with the routines of washing, dressing, feeding and walking her angelic daughter to school. ‘Home’ occasionally starts to drive away without warning, leading to a frantic scramble to recover precious possessions before they are crushed under the wheels.

Near the beginning of the film, we see Nora rushing to finish ironing her daughter’s school blouse, taking advantage of the precious electricity available in a scruffy site office. We can’t be sure if she really has permission to do this or if there might be a price to be paid, but later in the film we can begin to guess. Like some of the other women in this thankless situation, Nora occasionally gives in, reluctantly, to requests from other drivers and security guards for paid sex – hastily pulling a piece of cardboard across the gap between two freight containers, which provides the only privacy anyone can expect. She appears so resigned and desensitised, by this stage, that it seems as if she will endure any compromise or indignity to provide for her daughter.

The camaraderie of the women, who meet to buy basic groceries and exchange gossip at a makeshift bar, occasionally disintegrates into bitter squabbles about missing hand towels and bottles of shampoo. As the director said in his comments after the film, “When you have so little, these things can become obsessions”.

One promise to her daughter, that Nora is determined to keep at all costs, is a visit to the local fun fair. The movie opens with ironic close-ups of the brightly-painted grinning faces of fairground toys, their whirling clockwork movements suggesting a care-free existence that is still way beyond the reach of the central characters. The camera work, throughout the film, is particularly impressive. There is a steady but ‘hand-held’ feel to many of the shots, contributing to an observational style of film-making that documents Nora’s impossible choices without judging her. One stunning sequence follows Nora’s face as she rises to the top of a ‘Ferris wheel’ ride. Cut off from the noise of the city in the glass capsule, we see her face light up as reaches the top of the ride in the sunlit air. Her desolate expression is unchanging but, as she descends, there is just enough light on her shadow-darkened face to show that her eyes have filled with tears.

The sound editing also adds a great deal to the storytelling. Some of the happiest moments in the film (yes, there are some!) take place against an intrusive and noisy background of busy forklift trucks and other machinery. How anyone ever concentrates, has a conversation, sleeps or recovers from illness in this place is certainly beyond me.

While the director used a mix of professional and non-professional actors, he cast Jodi Sta. Maria, a popular Filipino soap star and teen-movie actress, in the challenging lead role. By downplaying Nora’s gritty determination and emotions so effectively, she provides a haunting performance that is moving, without being at all sentimental or patronising.

As far as the notorious ending was concerned, I won’t give the game away but I felt that it just wasn’t needed. The film had already made its point, beautifully, and had avoided many of the clichés that might have let down a less thoughtful project. The director was obviously determined that Nora should shock everyone with her “act of rebellion”. Perhaps he should have had more confidence in his ability to tell a story that already has a clear social purpose and an undeniable moral force. In the end, the biggest pity about the controversy surrounding this film is that fewer teenage and school audiences will get to see it.

At the rather poorly-attended talk after the screening, Alix credited the Italian neo-realist films as one of his inspirations, particularly The Bicycle Thieves (1948) by Vittorio de Sica. Some of these films, and the impact of social realism, will be explored in a new film studies course for Spring 2 at Webster Leiden. We also hope to include a screening of the film Chassis during the final part of the course. In spite of its closing flaws, this is an important film and a worthy addition to a growing body of challenging work by politically- and socially-committed film-makers worldwide.

My thanks to Laura Onate Madrazo – for spotting Chassis in the crowded festival schedule and alerting me to it. Well worth getting up early for!

http://www.filmfestivalrotterdam.com/en/films/chassis/

March is an excellent time to catch up with the best of world cinema. Don’t miss ‘Movies that Matter’ – the annual festival of films (fiction & documentary) with a human rights theme at the Filmhuis Den Haag.

This year, the festival runs from Thursday 24^th to Wednesday 30^th March.

http://www.moviesthatmatter.nl/mtm/site/home.vm?language=en&pagina=

Andrew J. Fundingsland teaches media literacy, mass communications, media & culture, international communications and media ethics in the Department of Media Communications, Webster Leiden.

There was a time when the definition of workplace diversity meant at best, achieving quotas, and at worst, a few token employees.  The culture of the company remained largely unchanged, and all employees were expected to conform to the status quo.

As the first decade of the 21st century comes to a close, diversity now focuses on the synergy between the sexes and the contributions of the multiculturals. Conformity has been replaced by the recognition that the many elements that gender, race, and religion add to the mix are responsible for not only more compassion and cohesion, but also for greater creativity.

Webster University Leiden launched its Center for the Advancement of Women and Diversity in Business on Friday, January 21st, at the WTC, Amsterdam. The mission statement of this group is straightforward:

To overcome artificial barriers in business. This includes barriers due to race, religion, national origin, age, disability, sexual orientation, gender, etc.

To enhance performance, productivity, customer satisfaction, profits – and legitimate Corporate Social Responsibility objectives – through inclusion.

In attendance and supporting the goals were Erich Steinbock, Managing Director of the legendary Carlyle Hotel, NYC, and Raj Patel, former CEO of Exact software in Delft, as well as professionals and students, of all ages and from all walks of life.

So if on a corporate level, or a personal level, you would like to gain more insight into the benefits of greater diversity and the role it can play in inspiring the workplace, please join in.

The next seminar is scheduled for Friday, February 18th, at the WTC Amsterdam.  Admission is free and open to all; reservations are advised. If you are interested in attending, please email: webstercawdb@gmail.com

You can also visit the Center for the Advancement of Women and Diversity online at Facebook, YouTube, or LinkedIn.