(Editor’s note: This is Pt. 1 of a two-part post about RSO in Berlin. You can jump to Pt. 2 here.)
It’s late Friday night and I have just finished watching “Dune: Pt 2” at a big theater near the East Side Gallery. Although I purchased a ticket for the “OmU” screening (Original language With Subtitles) there was an error at the theater, and I was forced to see the film dubbed auf Deutsch. With my B2 level of German, this wasn’t a serious issue, but by the end of the Sci-Fi epic, my head was a bit tight from translating and my body wanted to move.
After a quick internal debate over whether I should head home or to the dancefloor, I decide to hop on the S Bahn to check out a well known club that’s been on my list for some time: Revier Südost, or RSO.
Literally translated as “Southeast Territory,” RSO is a bit of a trek to get to. Located in the district of Schöneweide on the Spree river, RSO is a solid 40 minutes from the city center and includes a very long walk from the train station.
Journeying there late at night is one of those perfect Berlin adventures into Clubland, when one walks in the dark in what seems like the middle of nowhere, an area devoid of bars, restaurants or any sign of nightlife, until one hears the distant “BMPFF-BMPFF-BMPFF” of kick drums and sees a few bright lights illuminating a metal railed queue in the distance.
“Clubsterben”
I’m heading to RSO tonight to check out the Home Again Festival, a five-day event that boasts 100 hours of continuous music with more than 50 DJs across three stages. It’s Friday night, the festival began on Wednesday, and I’m interested to see what peoples’ level of exhaustion is during this marathon event.
Surprisingly, at 1:30 a.m. there isn’t much of a line. Four young, British tourists are denied entry with a dismissive wave and scowl off into the night. I approach the door with my best “I’m friendly but not too friendly and I’d like to come in here and party but I don’t care if you reject me” type vibe and am immediately waved in. I enjoy the warm glow of entry-relief that flutters in my chest, for I know that even as a regular club-goer, rejection is always possible; for better or for worse. It’s part of what makes the scene here so special.
Located in the abandoned Bärenquell Brewery, RSO is actually a continuation of an older legendary club in an old Neukölln grain mill known as Griessmühle, which was forced to close down after its investor evicted them in 2020 in order to pursue other “development plans,” which are rumored to be either office spaces or a luxury hotel.
Protests were organized and people made a lot of noise to save the club but the venue went the way of many others that have faced pressure from landlords who have their own ideas for these spaces and announced that they would continue the club in another form, in a different location.
“Clubsterben” (club death) is a big concern in recent years for the techno scene as many spaces have been forced to close when their landlords hike up the rent. Wilde Renate, a well-known Friedrichshain club, recently announced closure after their rent was raised 150 percent; while there are rent control laws for residential buildings, the same such protections do not extend to commercial real estate. Clubs in this predicament are therefore forced to find new venues, or secure cultural protection from the state, the most successful example of this being Berghain, whose owners not only own the building, but have also been granted UNESCO World Heritage status.
While this latest wave of gentrification can be challenging for cultural spaces, it’s not impossible. Later in 2020, just before Berlin’s second lockdown, Griessmühle found its new venue in a labyrinthine structure off the Berlin beaten path.
Massive
The first thing one notices about RSO is that it’s simply massive. With a total footprint of 96,000 square meters (1 million square feet) and a capacity to hold 5,000 ravers, it’s easy to spend all night wandering around without even hitting the dance floors. Like many re-purposed abandoned buildings that are converted into clubs, the facade retains the feel of the original brewery, which was constructed in 1882. After approaching the massive red-brick industrial structure from another century and entering its reimagined interior as a house of techno, one has the feeling of traveling through time.
First stop is the garderobe/coat check which feels a bit disorganized and behind the current standards of most Berlin clubs. Even with not too many guests looking to hand in or retrieve their belongings, the workflow is a bit messy and in need of an efficiency upgrade. Not such a big deal during this window of time when there’s not much of a queue, but I can imagine longer wait times in the line outside due to a clunky cloak room, which in the ice cold winter can be a bit of a fun-killer.
I check my jacket and walk straight ahead towards the main floor, known as Robus, which is quite full (but not so full you can’t get through) with an excellent sound and lighting system. I’m enjoying the music, but want to take a short rundgang (walk around) before committing to a period of dancing in one place.
Coming up: Pt 2 of Chris’s visit to RSO.
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Read more about Berlin here in Dispatches’ archives.
See more from Chris here.
