It is evening and – peeking stunningly out from vegetation that impedes the gaze – the great gilded casing of the Philarmonie is a disobedient descendant of the right angle and, together with the Neue Staatsbibliothek across the road, envelops the modern temple designed by Mies van der Rohe. The Neue Nationalgalerie looks all around it, establishing a hierarchy with its clearly defined and calculated thicknesses that give the measure of all around them.
An image of Paestum appears, as Francesco Venezia portrayed it placing the Temple of Neptune and the Basilica, eternal and perennially universal works, beside the Berlin Gallery during the conference on Lafayette Park in Detroit in 2010. Up the steps and a crowd enlivens the space outside, reflected in the transparent Nationalgalerie construction that allows the space to flow from inside out.
Glass is explicit, leaving no room for thought and the forest constructed inside is certainly artificial, extremely architectural. After entering, the space is complicated by 144 trunks that, by generating new shadows, always seem to be concealing something.
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Neue Nationalgalerie, Berlin