Best Blog Award

Logo of the best blog awardWe received a “Best-Blockstöckchen” with a list of questions from Christopher and Johannes, co-authors of “Koschere Melange”, one of our very fave blogs. We = the two Mirjams (on which matter see “Names have meaning“) who have edited the blog since its inception were highly delighted but unfortunately, what with summer vacations and all, it took us somewhat longer than usual to compile our answers. Now, here they are:

1. Who blogs? And why?

Here, our colleagues at the Jewish Museum Berlin blog about topics dear to their hearts, about questions that crop up for them or others and about stuff that might otherwise be overlooked.
We blog, because we are repeatedly confronted, in our daily work, with questions, discoveries, or thoughts that we like to share.

2. What makes a (very) good blog (very) good?

 continue reading


Vending Machine Art

Handmade, for our Art Vending Machine

A man in front of a vending machine

Jens Eisenberg (company Leitwerk) fills our art vending machine.
© Jewish Museum Berlin, photo: Gelia Eisert

Anyone who walks through the first floor of our permanent exhibition has inevitably stumbled across our ‘art vending machine.’ The machine almost seems to be whispering, in two languages, “Kauf mich, buy me.” Labels gleam colorfully from the compartments but you won’t notice more than that at first. If you get curious, though, and come closer, you will read the inscription, “Kunst / Art” in big typeface, and along the vending machine’s side, “60 x art by Jewish artists in Berlin.” Now you notice the coin slots, where you can put in your 4 euros.

With the right change in your pocket and a little audacity, you can start the experiment.  continue reading


“Dispatch Prohibited on Account of the State of War”

A Letter from the Archive Tells of the Outbreak of War in 1914

A handwritten letter

Letter from Leo Roos to his family (first page), Frankfurt am Main, 31 July1914
Donated by Walter Roos
© Jewish Museum Berlin

“The situation is extremely serious; His Majesty the Emperor declared this afternoon that Germany is now at war.” Exactly one hundred years ago today, eighteen-year-old Leo Roos penned these lines to his parents and siblings back home in the West Palatine village of Brücken. But they were never to receive his letter, as the note on the envelope attests: Dispatch prohibited on account of the state of war. Return to sender.

Roos felt he was witnessing fateful times. He lived in Frankfurt, where he was apprenticed to a bank. He thought himself a city boy, much closer to momentous global events than his family was, off in its isolated village. He described the tense mood:  continue reading