As part of an extended programme in partnership with Messe in St. Agnes during Berlin Art Week and Gallery Weekend Berlin, Therme Art presented the Wellbeing Culture Forum, Breaking Bauhaus – Renewing its Principles 100 Years Later on 11 September.

Against the backdrop of climate change, viral pandemics, complex matrixes of systemic oppression and political revolutions––not to mention personal relationships, work/life balance and health issues––it can be difficult to maintain mental peace. In the wake of industrial-capitalism and later, the isolated connectivity of social media, mental health diagnoses and substance abuse cases have sky-rocketed, with suicide rates at a 30-year high. Depression, anxiety, and emotional or physical disconnection are commonplace afflictions in our modern societies. Yet with talk therapy and psychiatric prescriptions now becoming more accepted into the mainstream, we might ask ourselves: Is there another solution?

As explored in writer and philosopher Alain de Botton’s book Art as Therapy, “art is a vehicle through which we can do such things as recover hope, dignify suffering, develop empathy, laugh, wonder, nurture a sense of communion with others and regain a sense of justice and political idealism.” Art can inspire, but it can also help us cope with the conflicts and confusions of daily life and locate spaces of community in dislocation.

Since antiquity––from the ancient wall paintings in the caves of Laas Gaal in Somalia, Cueva de Las Manos in Argentina, and Leang Timpuseng in Indonesia, to the physical effects of the Greek Tragedy, to the socio-political impact of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony, to the healing shocks that Picasso’s Guernica triggered––we are reminded again and again of art’s psycho-social and holistic importance. In the tradition of Western descriptions of aesthetics, however, this effect is often denied, while other cultures maintain the productive blurring between art and shamanism. How we can overcome our dualistic ideas of “beautiful” art and physical wellbeing, and what we can learn from shifts in art and culture today? Art’s therapeutic ability can allow us to follow intuition and channel mental energy towards inquiry, creativity, and gratitude. Furthermore, its ambiguity can help identify difficult emotions, which is often the first step in healing from trauma.

History reminds us of our innate inclination towards healing through art, but as we look ahead, we are also met with newer technologies to improve our mental landscapes, including chromatherapy in light art, binaural beat therapy (sounds and music that trigger specific brainwaves and relieve anxiety), and sensorial/experiential installation art. What is the relationship between our emotional, physical and mental experience in art, and how important is this dialogue? What happens when different senses are triggered? Some artists are engaging with these questions through interdisciplinary approaches to healing; Jeremy Shaw, for example, explores the cross pollinations of science, psychedelics, and spirituality to reach transcendent experiences of body and mind. As art continues to move away from the white cube space and into the streets, these integrative modes will be pivotal to the healing of interior and exterior spaces and will depend on the collaboration of practitioners from various fields.

As we endure the intense growing pains of societal progress, artists are often called to act, to dance, to paint, to sculpt, and to articulate obscure emotions felt by the collective. As curator Elvira Dyangani Ose once said, “Artists are public intellectuals,” and while this is true, they can also be public feelers, champions of vulnerability, who can inspire audiences to dive into their own interior lives and begin to address internal conflicts. As more and more scientific evidence arises around the reality and lasting effects of epigenetics, the study of socially inherited modifications in gene activity, art––due to its reflexive ability to connect the macro and the micro––can also serve as an essential tool in healing intergenerational trauma.

In our vision of a sustainable and creative future, the Wellbeing City not only gives space for wellbeing through design, architecture, and other aesthetic elements, but also creates and maintains resources for people to feel safe, inspired, and recognised. It points its inhabitants towards art, while also empowering them to take part in creation and collaboration. We know that the architecture and design of our environments can greatly affect our moods and mental health. Thus, art can serve as a powerful portal for healing and shaping new spaces of free thought and connection.

100 years ago, Bauhaus revolutionised our cities and ways of living. Born in the classrooms of an art and design school in Dessau, Germany, the movement strove to combine aesthetics with everyday function. Its architectural and technological innovation, alongside its frugal use of resources and emphasis on community, are foundational principles that still hold much relevance today.

However, our needs as a species and society have inevitably shifted since its time.  As we look back at Bauhaus a century later, how can we critically explore which layers of the movement can be further investigated and adapted to the needs of today, and which ones can be replaced by new waves of thinking and collective action?

Due to travel restrictions in the wake of COVID-19, we are starkly reminded of the essential role of community in health and wellbeing. Outside the virtual sphere, art and culture have become more localised. Artists are now relying on local materials and resources, without outsourcing or physical international collaboration. This crisis has introduced uncertainty and existential confusion, but it has also invited new ways of living together and reimagining community support. How can this locality, with a cultural and environmental sensitivity and awareness, become a foundational principle in the efforts to create a Wellbeing City?

Anthropologists, sociologists and doctors know about the importance of diversity for the physical and mental health of communities. And yet, Bauhaus’s design principles prioritised aesthetic sensibilities from the West, while often side-lining or appropriating ideas and design methodologies from Non-Western cultures. In the midst of these precarious times, an important question to ask is: what are the benefits and shortcomings of global socio-political and economical shifts in breaking, redefining, and rebuilding?

Bauhaus Founder Walter Gropius once said, “There is no essential difference between the artist and the craftsman.” The sentiment still rings true today: There is an abundance of wisdom in the work of local artisans and craftspeople, which in the past may have been side-lined as “non-art.” As we begin to reimagine our urban environments, it is crucial that we do not repeat the mistakes of history, and that we build spaces with the epistemologies, cultural specificities, and needs of each region in mind. This is where locality could provide creative and accessible solutions to our issues around inclusivity in design.

Criticality can lead to innovation; and yet, it is also important to acknowledge one crucial thing that we can learn from Bauhaus: how to transform acute needs and requirements quickly and consistently into material forms. Inspired by the concept of gesamtkunstwerk (a work of art that makes use of all or many art forms), as we learn through and away from the Bauhaus aesthetic, we strive to create a new movement that sees the seemingly isolated elements of art, culture, and sustainability as a holistic, composite structure that is constantly shifting and changing to meet the immediate and distant needs of each community.

This talk highlighted the nuances of locality and cross-pollinated diverse perspectives from the invited panellists, including artists, architects, activists, scientists, and designers. Starting at St. Agnes’ Church, which has been converted into König Galerie, and other current examples from the city, Berlin-based practices of transforming the rudiments of its local history provided food for thought for the discussion.

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