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The literal translation of the place name means Devil’s Hill and the hill itself was erected from the rubble of Berlin’s decimation during WWII. The complex was a Cold War listening post built and run by the Yanks to listen in on the East.

Following the fall of the wall it fell into disrepair and essentially became a squat for punks and anarchists of which Berlin historically boasts a large population. The place now operates as a museum with wall to wall, floor to ceiling graffiti and art sprayed liberally across the rambling, overgrown, falling down compound, complete with two enormous but decrepit geodesic domes atop.

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Back at Pete’s studio and running through the source material I had gathered I was immediately drawn to one image in particular,painting it on my return to Dunedin later that year (fig 1.).

Looking at this painting there’s nothing that identifies it as being in Berlin or even Germany. Interestingly, it could be anywhere, even though there is a written visual language in use. I was also intrigued by the build-up of layers of line and colour in the seemingly random manner of many artists working the same wall or canvas over along period of time.