Memorials—what are their purpose? Growing up, I’ve understood memorials as a mechanism for remembering the past, and instinctively, memorials have a close relationship with memory. But what is that memory and how is it represented?

The memories that people and societies choose to remember become manifested in memorials, but which memories are selected to be remembered? How does memory become quantified—weighed against one another? Which memories are more important to preserve? Then how does the memory take physical form? Does the memory take permanent form or temporal form? Does it or can it move? If not, then how is the site selected? Does the memory take form in its original birthplace or is it relocated? How about memories that do not have one fixed birthplace? What kind of shape does the memory take? For whom do these memories serve? And if not for whom, then for what purpose—what function does a physical memory serve? How then, do these memories affect people? How do people who share a direct relationship with the memory react? Does the memory in fact help them, or are the memories something they would rather not remember? How does the memory affect the descendants of those who remember? How does the physical memory compare to the memory that is passed from generation to generation? And how does the memory affect those who have no relationship at all? How does each of these individuals experience the physical memory? Does the memory take the form of documentation, photography, sculpture, building, or space? How is the method for materializing memory selected? What sort of impact does it have on its immediate environment? How does the memory extend into the surrounding neighborhoods and the city?

2015 July 9—Holocaust Memorial//Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe

The Holocaust Memorial—the name that many understand this place as—is probably better known as the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. It is comprised of two components: the landscape memorial above ground that takes up a city block and an underground museum filled with case studies of individuals and families who were persecuted during the Second World War. More specifically, to the Jews who were persecuted during this time.

The name of the memorial has seemed to become a rising issue within the society. Because the museum and memorial is dedicated to the murdered Jews of Europe, it should not be called the Holocaust Memorial. “Holocaust” denotes the event in its entirety, which seems scholars and researchers will debate that one cannot understand the Holocaust in its entirety without understanding the individual events that comprise it. However, many tourists as well as Germans and Berliners still identify the memorial as the Holocaust Memorial. The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe is comprised of a field of 2711 stone pillars organized in a grid and spaced apart evenly. The stones stand on a variable sloped plane and rise to different heights, creating a field in which travelers and tourists alike can disappear into. The museum underneath uses the same shape of the stone pillars to create exhibit space for information to recall the events of the murdered Jews of Europe. The stone pillars and ceiling on the surface of the memorial is reflected into the museum creating forms and the absence of forms, evoking emotion through the experience of moving through space while learning about the individuals and families of the Jewish population caught in the tragedy of the Holocaust.


A tour through the museum is an overwhelming experience. One cannot understand the suffering of the Jews when history easily describes the event with numbers and facts. The Museum of the Murdered Jews of Europe successfully puts a face on the millions of lives lost and damaged. The thought that these people could be your everyday people—your friends or your family—really sinks in after exploring the museum and applying that fact to the fact that they were put through immense pain and suffering before facing death is a frightening thought. The space is accompanied by a reflection of what is happening above ground—a field of stone pillars, all different, all struggling to stand upright. At first one may attribute these stones to the lives of Jews: numerous in numbers, but now only a field of gravestones. The memorial is exceptionally successful in expressing an experience that will prepare its visitors to understand the museum below. Before entering, on can see the mass of people gathering around the memorial from all sides, but not one can be seen in the middle. Once within the maze-like field of stones, one is faced in a narrow path seemingly lost in the void. However, occasionally another person appears. Likely, you do not know that person, but you see that person, likely also alone. You may notice what they are wearing, that they are taking pictures, or just look at the person; and in return the person looks at you—perhaps only momentarily. An awkward momentary exchange, but both parties quickly move on, and you are once again left alone. Walking through the memorial, one may look to the side, and capture momentary snapshots—perhaps of the cars passing by or of other people journeying through the memorial. Now reemerge from the memorial to the bustling city, and enter the museum where you must once again face the murdered Jews of Europe, face to face. Even if you see each Jew momentarily; even if you only see a snapshot of their life: You must face them. You must see them.

In a city with a rich history and a society who grasps a moral duty to remember the past, we may find Berlin among other cities at the forefront. With numerous memorials and museums dedicated to the past, the future of the city may seem solely reliant on its past. It may forever be a future tethered to the pain and suffering of the grim past. But things change, and even after a tree burns, its seeds grow a new trunk over time. With enough time, the possibility of an even greater tree than before is not beyond possibilities. The effects of time changes all; and even when the city of Berlin remembers, it continues to grow. In regards to museums and memorials where there is a particular eye for the past, is there a way to offer some gesture to the future of the city?

The conception of a building includes what to build and where to build it. Memorials and museums here in Berlin have thoroughly considered these criteria. But more consideration should be placed in the life of the architecture. How will the architecture live its life in the next decades and the next century? How will it change, and how will it change the people and city around it?


2015 July 9—Holocaust Memorial//Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe

Aside from the underground museum, the memorial landscape above may hold potential as a landmark of adventure and celebration. Due to the stigma looming about the Holocaust, the memorial grounds is strictly tied to the museum—teaching visitors of the tragedies of the Holocaust and inviting reflection. However, imagine several decades from today: the memorial grounds hold the potential to invite children to run about its grounds and challenges youth to a game of parkour to test athleticism. As a place, the memorial grounds can invite the city in once its duty of reflection has extended success. Perhaps one day, it may also be the grounds of Jewish pride, where Jews may also celebrate their heritage and the lineage that it has endured. The open design of the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe allows for greater growth and transformation, but only time can tell.


2015 July 21—Track 17//Memorial to the Jews who faced deportation

After a class visit to Track 17, it was found as a place that is far less visited than other memorials and museums. As one of the earlier memorials that were built (1991), it seems to be one that has also been forgotten. Nearly two decades has past and Track 17 has nearly fulfilled its purpose. As it continues to live its life at the edge of the city, the surrounding brush and trees continue to grow and envelop the memorial. Moss and ferns grow through the grated steel surface of the memorial plates, and it will only be a matter of time until nature claims this memorial as its own. With fewer and fewer visitors each year, only the faint sound of a passing train can be heard. Possibly, time has been able to mend this wound, but the scar of steel and the ghost of the train remain. At the edge of the city, a true place of reflection and meditation has been created—a transformation through time.

In a city trying to instill memories of the past century, Berlin has opened design competitions and commissioned many artists and architects to fill the city with a century’s worth of history and beyond. Both government and other private parties have endeavored to rectify all that was wronged in the past, and the approach has been with varying successes of museums, memorials, reconstructions, re-used spaces, and reclaimed places. Reclaimed places have had different approaches and results themselves, but nevertheless, Berlin continues to grow with alongside its people.


2015 July 16—Kapelle der Versöhnung//Chapel of Reconciliation

Built what was once the site of the “death strip” of the Berlin Wall, the Chapel of Reconciliation was an initiative by the community surrounding the area that was once split by the wall. It is sited in the location of what was once a church, and the community came together to build a new chapel in an attempt to settle grievances of the past and reunite the two sides of the community. The result is a beautiful construction of earth and wood encapsulating a space for meditation, reflection, and tranquility. It would not be so far as to give the chapel credit for revitalizing the “death strip” into a green space park that the community can now share pride in instead of being separated by.


2015 July 21—Schwerbelastungskörper//Heavy Load Bearing Body

The Heavy Load Bearing Body was created by Hitler’s architects during his rise to power in order to test the land and soil conditions before building his own Arc de Triomphe—only 4 times larger in scale. However, because the land of Berlin is mostly sand and similar to a watery swamp, Hitler was unable to begin the construction of his triumphant gateway, and the Heavy Load Bearing Body remained intact, even after the fall of the Nazi Regime in 1945. Now, the Heavy Load Bearing Body stands as a small museum memorial, teaching todays inquisitors of what would have been Germania if the Nazis would have succeeded. The Heavy Load Bearing Body continues to sink to this day, and by the looks of it, there will be no other attempts to reclaim the space—at least until it sinks completely.


2015 July 23—Reichstag//Building of the Bundestag

Originally built as a palace for wealthy Prussian aristocrat, the building was rebuilt in the 1880s and repurposed for the parliament of the Weimar Republic. It burned in 1933 for unknown reasons, but was later rebuilt after World War II with the designs of Norman Foster. The parliament of Germany now meets in the Reichstag for discussions, but the public is granted access to the building, its rooftop, as well as the glass dome-skylight on the roof. The dome acts as a pseudo-museum, with a small walking tour of the city as you spiral up the dome. In a way, the Reichstag gives the city back to its people—a fantastic transformation of a private building into a place that reclaims the city of Berlin for its people.

The architecture of museums and memorials clearly weave in and out of the urban fabric like the Holocaust museum which is integrated in the city center. There are also memorials like Track 17 which becomes forgotten more with each passing year. But there are memorials that remain hidden from the city, but not entirely on purpose. Their subtleness makes them invisible to the passerby, but their presence enriches the community without invading the personal lives of the people.


One such memorial is the Stolperstein or stumbling stones. The Stolperstein are a number of small brass square plaques scattered all over Germany and other neighboring countries where Jewish people were taken from their homes during the Nazi’s rise to power. The information displayed on the brass plaques are straight forward: they show the name of the person taken, and if available, will display their birthdate, the date they were deported, and where they were deported to. Although they are set to the side of the sidewalk and is integrated to the unique stonework of Berlin streets, one who stumbles across a Stolperstein thinks twice about their presence and their significance. At first, many tourists are excited to have found Stolperstein. However, after pausing for a second and reflecting on their meaning and the deep history behind them, thoughts begin to bounce within the mind of the stone finder and a psychological stumbling occurs. Still, because of the nature of the placement of the Stolperstein, no one is forced to stop by their presence—often people will not even take notice. Nevertheless, it adds another layer to the depth of the city.

Another example of a subtle memorial is Places of Remembrance which is a series of images scattered on the streets and hung on light poles. They are coupled with text on the backside of the image, and reveal laws that were passed around the 1930’s that stripped Jews of their rights. The memorial blends in with the street and camouflages with other adjacent signs. Like the Stolperstein, the Places of Remembrance memorial is unobtrusive and does not force any person to experience anything particular. But unlike the Stolperstein, the signs for the Places of Remembrance are roughly ten feet high—out of reach, but not quite out of sight. However, these signs have as much to offer as the Stolperstein. In the same respect, the Places of Remembrance enhance the historical richness of the place. Although it is somewhat hidden among the common signage of the street, it is like a buried treasure, and one cannot come to appreciate its value until it is discovered.


The preservation of history and its memory is of ever-growing importance. The Stolperstein and the Places of Remembrance offer a subtle approach and diversifies the historical content embedded in the city. They may be even considered hidden jewels counterpart to the numerous museums and exhibitions dedicated to the Holocaust, World War II, and its victims. And with that being said, it is undeniable that these two memorials add to the success of the city’s historic preservation.

Among the many uses of architecture—shelter, safety, a place for gathering, ect.—there is one reason architecture has persisted as a tool for groups and individuals throughout time: to make a statement. The statement can be expressing a number of ideas, but large-scale architecture is most commonly used to express dominance, power, wealth, and class. This is an unchanging fact throughout history, but during World War II, the Nazi regime further improved upon this historic idea. In their scheme to suppress the Jewish population and efforts towards world domination, they devised an architectural approach to showcase their dominance, intelligence, and infinite power.

Sachsenhausen—it is the name of the place that gave rise to the suffering of millions upon millions of Jewish people. At first it was a testing ground for Jewish concentration camps before spreading throughout Germany. Later, it evolved to become a place for training officers who would oversee concentration camps in other locations. Sachsenhausen was also a showcase of sorts. The Nazi regime used Sachsenhausen to show the world its control and order, expressing their intelligence and their civil suppression of their prisoners and captives. With this strategy, the Nazis were able to hide the cruelty and terror that was used against the Jewish people and other minorities in Germany. This claim gave affirmation to the actions of the Nazi regime and ultimately led to the death and displacement of millions Jewish people.

Sachsenhausen was organized with a triangular plan. This triangular plan was a well thought out ploy for controlling its captives while still showcasing their Nazi’s order and sophistication. A central tower was located at the center of one side of the triangle, and barracks for the prisoners radiated from this point. This ensured at the main watch tower was present and in view for every prisoner during all times of the day, striking a terrorizing reminder for all of their prisoners: “We are watching you.” The front gate just below the watch tower had a sign reading “Arbeit macht frei” meaning “work makes you free.” This was yet another tool for disguising their cruelty and only giving a false hope to their prisoners. Because of the invention of the triangular campground, additional watch towers at every corner could be used to maintain an overview of the entire camp. Sachsenhausen was such a great success for the Nazis that it will be recreated in a number of other concentration camps, including Auschwitz, known for being a death camp for anyone imprisoned.