The crows knew it from Day One: Berlin 2011 would be a—slightly—happier experience. Normally, when night began to fall, the crows descended upon the frost-bleak trees around Potsdamer Platz and cawcawed for hours, filling the silence of bad cinema, crushed hopes and now-for-real lost illusions with their woe-cum sorrowful sounding songs. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them. The trees were black for birds. Every evening, starting around 5pm or 6pm, reliably—you could set your watch to them (if you take things easy, that is...). Yet, this time around, the crows were nowhere to be seen. Maybe it's true what a friend of TO1..., comrade Möller suggested: It looks as if the crows were trying to make Berlin their permanent home, become true city slickers, which necessitates certain changes of behavior; rings scientifically solid. Still, we couldn't shake off the feeling that they somehow sensed a thing or two,...
- 8/2/2011
- MUBI
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