Vliegveld berlijn hitler biography
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Historical exploration
Tempelhof Airport in its current form was built between 1936 and 1941 according to the plans of Ernst Sagebiel. The biggest monument of Europe, which stands for monumental self-staging of the Nazis, has become a symbol of freedom because of the airlift of 1948/49. The physical structure is made up of an elliptical airfield and an enormous building complex. It consists of a series of symmetric elements: a forecourt flanked by two office wings; the reception and check-in hall; transit areas and 1230 m long arch of the hangars.
Tempelhof Airport is unique. There was no other building of this magnitude at least within Europe in the 1930s. Tempelhof is a unique airport throughout the world in that the hangars have been brought together with check-in and administrative rooms in a building. The architecture of the airport is also monumental and technologically modern. The natural stone cladding and strong façade gives the building a powerful impression. Whereas on
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Tempelhofer Feld Berlin
The former Tempelhof airport is now a public park – and not for the first time in its history. Originally the Tempelhofer Feld Berlin was a parade ground. At the weekends and on public holidays, as soon as the military cleared the site, the locals would swarm in their thousands to Tempelhof to enjoy their leisure time. Whole families would come with their baskets full of food, deckchairs and sunshades to have picnics there. At the beginning of the 1920s, Tempelhof airport was built on the site. After the airport closed in 2008, the city of Berlin reclaimed the 386-hectare open space and one of the world's largest buildings in a central location for public use.
Today, the area has a six-kilometre cycling, skating and jogging trail, a 2.5-hectare BBQ area, a dog-walking field covering around four hectares and an enormous picnic area for all visitors.
Freedom for the entire family
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Hitler’s Airport
Global
Berlin has buried every trace of the Third Reich—with one big exception.
By Nathaniel Rich
During a recent week in Berlin, I found myself, again and again, doing Berlin things. There’s really no way around it, in Berlin. On my first evening, a friend took me after midnight to the voluminous abandoned basement of an office building that, as far as I could tell, sat dormant 364 days a year, but this night was the site of a roving weekly gay dance party called Horse Meat Disco. The DJ spun Italian disco; bartenders sold artisanal sparkling juice. I visited the Museum der Dinge—the Museum of Things—which displays collections of mundane objects: ashtrays, faucets, sardine tins, household keys, cellphones, candlesticks, lightbulbs, sieves, soap dishes. I saw Sonic Youth’s Lee Ranaldo play at the Lido, formerly a movie theater that was one of the few cinemas in East Berlin to show Western films, and came across a store that sold Sonic Youth