Who is Missing Here? The Paradoxes of Inclusion in “Radical Playgrounds” at Gropius Bau
Are these ‘radical’ playgrounds really inclusive or are they reproducing the exclusivity of the art world?
I enjoy going to art shows happening outside exhibition venues, mostly because there is a chance to meet people who will usually not go to art events. A few weeks ago I went to see Radical Playgrounds: From Competition to Collaboration at Gropius Bau, that opened shortly before the UEFA European Football Championship (Euro 2024). It took place in the outside spaces of the Martin-Gropius-Bau, facing Niederkirchner and Stresemann Street. In the show, the topic of “play” was associated with competition, sports, and collaboration. Although I do not agree with the idea of play as competition or sports — play could be a leisure activity, encourage community-building and exploration, without any aim to win — , what I liked was that several families amused themselves in the different “playgrounds” created by artists and architects. What I could observe was that these families were the usual art audience: artists, curators, architects, and other creative and art-interested people. While I was there, I met some curators and artists with their kids, whom I am friends with. That day, I was lucky to meet one of the curators of the programme, Joanna Warsza, who gave us an introduction of some of the works.
But, who is missing in this show? The neighbourhood and those who live close to the Gropius Bau. This neighbourhood, composed mostly by low-income families, is probably not aware of this “radical” playground that aimed to include all. As known, the Martin-Gropius-Bau is located right at the former border between East and West Berlin. During the partition of Germany there was a large space, a no man’s land between the walls. Today, this area is close to Potsdamer Platz train station and to a shopping mall, poorly attended after its renovation. Other than the office buildings and shopping areas at Potsdamer Platz, the neighbourhood surrounding the Gropius Bau is characterised for its cheap housing facilities and social housing projects. I remember visiting some years ago an artist friend, who organised with other artists a sewing workshop for refugee women, mainly from Syria. These workshops, with the intention to facilitate a possibility for future income by means of clothing repair, were held at an empty hotel on Stresemann Street, which was also used to give shelter to several other refugees from the Middle East.
A highlight of the show was the part dedicated to the itinerant exhibition The Playground Project — Architecture for Children, curated by Gabriela Burkhalter. It presented the history of playgrounds in different parts of the world since the late 19th century. These initiatives focused on bringing children from the streets to the playground, others encouraged children’s creative self-determination, aiming to establish a sense of community.* Some of these playgrounds were built for children in low-income areas, such as the project by Italian architect Riccardo Dalisi in Rione Traiano, in the outskirts of Naples (Italy) from 1971 to 1974. Yet, the same cannot be said about Radical Playgrounds. This show constructed an artificial setting of inclusion that in the end reproduced the exclusivity of the art world.
Although Radical Playgrounds had a lovely programme, I would be cautious in using the term “radical”. Apart from being heavily institutional, following a planned marketing strategy (linking play with sports, starting the programme before the Euro 2024 and closing it on 14 July 2024, the day of the finals), and not including the surrounding neighbourhood, I cannot think of anything “radical” in this project.
Radical Playgrounds: From Competition to Collaboration
Curated by Joanna Warzsa and Benjamin Foerster-Baldenius
Gropius Bau, Berlin
*A description in English of The Playground Project — Architecture for Children is available on page 46 of the programme booklet, which can be downloaded here.
