![]() “This way is more interesting to me than a gallery,” he said. The show, of old and new work, is called “Disturbing Beauty.” It was opening later that night, at a party with a d.j., where his newer images would be projected on the walls in concert with the techno music. ![]() Last month, he visited New York for an exhibition of his work at ArtsDistrict Brooklyn, a cavernous space in Greenpoint. “I worked eighteen years for this house, and it’s a big chance and good memories, but ja, now everyone knows this place.”Īt sixty-one, he is working there less frequently-“I don’t know when my next shift is”-and focussing more on his long side career as a photographer. He’s been in a couple of documentaries (“Berlin Bouncer”), has published a memoir (“Die Nacht Ist Leben”), and has a cameo in the latest “John Wick.” (His only line: “I am Klaus.”)ĭoes he get tired of being Herr Berghain? They aren’t his alone, but for better or worse he has become their face. The criteria for entry are obstinately imprecise. Typically posted by the entrance, dressed in black, face-tattooed, with lower-lip piercings that look like silver fangs, he has become in his own way world-notorious, too-as an embodiment of Berghain’s old East Berliner queer-punk spirit, and as the intimidating assessor of that spirit’s traces in the aspirants who stand in line. He has been as responsible as anyone for its singular admixture of interesting humans, which, along with its freethinking ethos and its killer sound system, has made it world-famous and very hard to get into. For almost two decades, Sven Marquardt has worked as the doorman and principal sorter at Berghain, the Berlin night club.
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