culture – Numéro Berlin https://www.numeroberlin.de Mon, 08 Jun 2026 14:55:33 +0000 en-US hourly 1 THE TANG JACKET https://www.numeroberlin.de/2026/06/the-tang-jacket/ Wed, 03 Jun 2026 12:55:26 +0000 https://www.numeroberlin.de/?p=70560 “Making the East fashionable for the West, and the West fashionable for the East.”

This quote was something that Sir David Tang, founder of the label Shanghai Tang, was driven by. When he founded his label in 1994, he was aiming for far more than just fashion. He was widely regarded as a “cultural provocateur,” whose mission it was to liberate Chinese tailoring from the niche of folklore costume, where it had long been confined, and elevate it onto the international runways of modern luxury fashion.

Interestingly, the term “Tangzhuang” (the Tang garment) is not a direct relic of the ancient Tang Dynasty. Instead, its roots lie within the diaspora. First documented in 1890 in a Dutch-Chinese textbook, the term was coined by overseas Chinese who referred to themselves as “People of Tang,” an homage to China’s golden age. In foreign lands, this clothing served as a symbol of belonging, being functional, simple, and deeply rooted in the identity of Chinatowns. David Tang took this cultural foundation and transformed the traditional Magua, the Manchu riding jacket, into an exclusive statement piece. Structurally, the jacket retains its hallmark straight cut and clean, unfussy lines. However, its true distinction lies in the heritage of flat-cutting. Unlike Western tailoring, which uses darts and padding to sculpt a three-dimensional form, the Tang jacket is often crafted from a continuous piece of fabric. This results in a minimalist, fluid silhouette that avoids shoulder padding or waist suppression, prioritizing a natural drape and a boxy, cropped proportion that allows for effortless ease of movement.

Its defining features, including the stand-up Mandarin collar and the asymmetrical front closure, are anchored by the Pankou, or hand-knotted silk frog buttons. These are not merely decorative but highly symbolic, requiring hours of meticulous handwork to loop silk cord into precise shapes like flowers or geometric knots. In many iterations, the jacket is cut from rich silk brocades or satin weaves, often featuring subtle jacquard patterns such as Xiangyun, the auspicious clouds, or longevity motifs that only reveal their full depth in movement and light. Shanghai Tang elevated these elements through an almost cinematic use of color and contrast. Traditional blacks and deep indigos were reimagined alongside lacquer red, imperial yellow, jade green, and electric fuchsia. Interiors became just as important as exteriors, where vibrant linings, contrasting piping, and reversible constructions turned the jacket into a playful yet precise object of design. The weight of the fabric, the sheen of the silk, and the tactility of the hand-knotted closures all contribute to a sensory experience that goes beyond mere appearance.

Before Shanghai Tang, Far Eastern aesthetics in the West were often filtered through a romanticized, exoticist lens, with designers borrowing surface elements detached from their meaning. Shanghai Tang, however, reclaimed the narrative, grounding the garment in its cultural lineage while recontextualizing it for a global audience. The Tang jacket became a manifesto of cultural self-confidence, combining classic features with an urban sensibility that made the piece feel equally at home in Hong Kong, New York, or Paris. The jacket’s global ascent was propelled by the zeitgeist of the 1990s. While screenwriter and film producer Wong Kar-wai established a new, atmospheric visual language for the East with films like In the Mood for Love, Sir David Tang secured visibility through a savvy social strategy. He gifted his jackets to friends and style icons across the globe. Suddenly, Gong Li was seen wearing them at international film festivals, and supermodels like Naomi Campbell and Kate Moss made them a staple of their wardrobe. No longer just a piece of clothing, the jacket acted as a bridge between cultures.

Today, more than three decades after its debut, the Tang jacket has solidified its status as a design icon. Shanghai Tang remains at the forefront of this evolution, merging sustainable materials with the original aesthetic. Modern updates, such as lighter technical silks, tonal embroidery, or even metal reinterpretations of the traditional Pankou button, ensure the design remains relevant in the 21st century. What Sir David Tang achieved is a true masterstroke of taste, creating a jacket that proves sophistication lies not merely in preserving history, but in boldly reinventing it for the future with precision, wit, and a distinct sense of cultural pride.

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IN CONVERSATION WITH ART COLLECTOR CHRISTINE WÜRFEL-STAUSS https://www.numeroberlin.de/2026/05/interview-with-art-collector-christine-wurfel-stauss/ Thu, 07 May 2026 13:48:34 +0000 https://www.numeroberlin.de/?p=70917 What if art and fashion are thought beyond their contexts?

Art and fashion are usually experienced in very different ways. Art is encountered in exhibitions, where works are presented in a defined setting. Fashion appears usually on the body and in everyday contexts, where it shifts with movement and in relation to the situations in which it is worn. 

Yet both begin, as Christine Wuerfel-Stauss describes it, with the same kind of decisions: form, material, and proportion. What changes is the context. In art, these decisions unfold within institutional frameworks. In fashion, they are exposed  – worn, altered by movement and use. The same elements are at play, but they are exposed to different conditions. This difference opens up a broader set of questions about how artistic ideas shift as they move between contexts, and how they change as they move between contexts. 

For Christine Wuerfel-Stauss, these are not abstract questions. She moves at the intersection of art and fashion, with a rare and precise understanding of both. Her practice extends across contemporary art and fashion – through collecting, writing, and close proximity to artists and their work; she moves within the fashion context, between shows and curation – and into institutional contexts. Drawing on her academic background in law and legal theory, and a precise understanding of the art world and its funding structures, she is involved in establishing new approaches to supporting museums and in developing patronage frameworks. At Hamburger Bahnhof – Nationalgalerie der Gegenwart in Berlin, for example, this has involved work on funding models and organizational frameworks. Much of this takes place out of view, but it has a direct impact on what can be realized. 

Beyond this, her engagement continues in other contexts. She places artistic ideas in relation to sartorial creations, movement and everyday situations, where they become visible in different ways and acquire new relevance. At the same time, ideas emerging in fashion are set in relation to artistic and institutional frameworks, where they are encountered differently. 

This is where this conversation begins.

SOPHIA NOWAK: You have been active in the world of art collecting and fashion for years. Does this feel like a constant shift between two separate worlds to you or is it ultimately the same cultural dialogue just taking place in different spheres?

CHRISTINE WÜRFEL-STAUSS: It does not feel like a transition between two separate worlds to me. I would rather describe it as a continuous dialogue that unfolds differently depending on the context. Art and fashion essentially address very similar questions, even if they both operate under different circumstances. Both explore how people relate to the world they live in, how individuals express their place within our era and how creative design reacts to its time. What differs, however, are the conditions under which they operate – and with them the range of what they can do.

Art often exists within an institutional setting and can therefore be encountered with undivided attention and can be more radical. Fashion, by contrast, is tied to physicality, personality, and daily habits.

It must also function within everyday life and social contexts while remaining bound to economic factors. So they are not two separate worlds, but art is far less constrained than fashion.

SN: You often describe fashion as a cultural practice. Do you see it more as a form of personal expression, a source of inspiration, or actually as a collectible object that is in no way inferior to the value of a work of art?

CWS: For me, fashion is all of this at once. Fashion is foremost a form of personal expression, how to dress is a decision that is part of your own identity. It can align with your own values and references, it can also function as powerful tool to take on different roles. Ideally, it can give the wearer the feeling of facing the world in the best possible way within a given context. This is particularly interesting because fashion is one aspect of who you are that always remains visible to others in social spaces. 

Fashion is also significant as a source of inspiration, since during its creation a variety of design principles such as color, proportions, rhythm, and materiality are being applied. These are often elements that have their origins in artistic or architectural ways of thinking. When you recognize aspects of those visual structures in fashion, it often brings their origins back to mind. And also each day, everyone subconsciously makes so many decisions that have a creative component which mirror the sartorial trends around us. Observing the current developments in fashion from runway collections to the way individuals dress in certain contexts influences your own approach and the ability to interpret situations in a certain way through observing sartorial choices. 

And collectability – yes, but only in specific cases. It certainly applies to couture, which often can be considered a work of art. This is partly because it is unique and created only once, and partly because of the technical precision and the immense effort involved. Furthermore, it is rooted in clear conceptual thinking, which brings fashion and art very close together. Another aspect to think of in terms of collectability is your own personal wardrobe. It is one of the most precious collections of our memories. An archive of lived moments of our life that embodies time as almost no other personal collection does. Our clothes contributed to how we felt and how we were perceived by others in certain moments. They can be a diary of happy moments or special situations. I often still know exactly what I was wearing when something significant happened and I cherish those pieces.

SN: I completely understand that. I feel exactly the same way about clothing. For special moments or memories, I still know exactly what I was wearing.

CWS: Yes, sometimes I can not recall who was there or exactly where it was, but I still remember exactly what I was wearing. Preserving these garments is part of keeping these memories alive. These pieces are irreplaceable, not even by an identical item. They are a collection of personal treasures, invaluable, at least that is what I think. 

Something else that needs to be mentioned in the context of collectability are key pieces of vintage fashion that serve as a sentinel of the sartorial culture of their time. Collecting such pieces preserves the design languages and the cultural attitudes of specific eras. It tells of social ideals and also of technical possibilities. I cherish that because it is a cultural memory in the form of a garment. A beautiful example was the exhibition Gabrielle Chanel – Fashion Manifesto which was first shown at the Palais Galliera in Paris till 2021 and then traveled to Melbourne and London till recently. It traced, through garments such as swimwear and daywear, how shifts in silhouettes and material reflected a broader change in the perception of women and showed how fashion can articulate changing roles within a cultural context.

SN: When you attend a couture show, do you prefer looking at haute couture pieces because they have such an artistic and eccentric style, or do you prefer designs that would be suitable for everyday life?

CWS: When it comes to couture, I think less about practicability than the incredible skill set and abundance of hours of elaborate work that went into the creation. I am always in awe at the highly specialized craftsmanship that is required and that only very few artisans still master today. The level of skill going into the creation of those collections is beyond impressive. I just recently came across a piece in The New Yorker about an atelier in Paris that creates just the featherwork for couture pieces. The techniques involved are so specific and complicated that they are the only atelier remaining that can process these feathers in these ways using techniques refined over decades. When hundreds of hours of work go into the smallest piece of embroidery, it is simply magnificent. But couture collections and their presentations are usually very special cultural moments for several reasons. A few weeks back, I attended the first couture defile by Matthieu Blazy for Chanel at the Grand Palais, which I found absolutely spectacular. As soon as you arrived you walked into a world of its own, a surreal, pink fantasy forest. It resembled an immersive artwork in many ways. The entire Grand Palais was covered in a light pink, fluffy carpet: a very delicate, powdery pink. Even the seating was all covered in it. And then there were giant mushrooms, up to five meters high. Added to that were weeping willows hanging down, all in orange, pink, and yellow. It was massive, and on top of that, there was birdsong; it was breathtaking to me. An immersive, ephemeral world that was intriguingly beautiful. Just the week before, I had been in Milan at the Fondazione Prada and had seen Carsten Höller’s permanent installation there – an entire room where giant fly agarics hung upside down from the ceiling and rotated. The show in Paris came very close to this work. You experienced a real shift in perception because suddenly everything which usually is of a small size appeared giant; you walk through it and wondered if Alice in Wonderland had felt that way. I had the sensation of suddenly being inside a form of ‘Gesamtkunstwerk’. When the show began and the collection was presented within this setting while the audience sat right in the middle of it, each guest became part of the whole. For me, the presentation with all its different components clearly belonged in the realm of art.

SN: That sounds truly impressive. Are there designers whose work you clearly see as art; where do you draw the line for yourself between craft and conceptual art?

CWS: For me, fashion approaches art when it moves beyond pure utility and is shaped by a clearly articulated design concept. When fashion is limited to covering or protecting the body, it fulfills its central purpose, but it operates in a different category. Art begins where it becomes apparent that every design decision, such as color, cut, and material, is part of a larger conceptual structure. So what matters to me in this context is not only the complexity of a creation or the craftsmanship that went into it, but whether a collection or a certain garment is based on a meaningful idea that extends beyond the pieces themselves.

This can even be seen, for example, in pre-modern painting:  clothing functioned as a system of signification. One could often situate the depicted figures within their social and cultural context just through the reading of their attire. Clothing conveyed social position, moral values, and affiliation. This way of reading clothing is still present today, though less clearly defined than in earlier periods.

This distinction between making and an idea that extends beyond the object can be seen in the work of several designers. Some of those whose work I have closely followed or retrospectively studied include Azzedine Alaïa who was a pioneer in approaching clothing as a sculptural practice, shaping and molding fabric in direct relation to the female body and constructing garments with a level of precision that recalled sculptural practices.

Matthieu Blazy also belongs in this context. A significant part of his work is the way his collections and their presentation through shows and campaigns form a narrative. His garments especially now for Chanel are not shown on their own, but as part of a larger spatial and perceptual setting which shapes how they are perceived. 

Albert Kriemler of Akris takes specific artistic position as a starting point for most of his collections. Rather than just referencing art, he translates distinct visual languages into garments allowing them to exist in new contexts, where they become visible in entirely new contexts beyond the museum context.

SN: How did you originally get started in the art scene? Was collecting a conscious dream or did this passion develop more organically?

CWS: It was a completely organic development. I grew up near Kassel, where the Documenta takes place every five years. At Documenta, I saw an expansive art installation for the very first time in my life, which was such a formative experience for me that it became the starting point for everything that followed. The work was by Rebecca Horn and was installed in an actual school building that had been closed for the summer holidays. Extending across an entire classroom, historical school desks were mounted upside down to the ceiling. From each desk, thick metal wires ran downward, gathered into a bundle, and continued out through the window into the ground outside. Along these wires, liquid ink made its way downward. Even today, I would still find this work striking, but back then as a child, it was beyond anything I had ever encountered. It made me realize just how powerful art can be.

Much later, when it became possible to live with art, I began to experience what that means in everyday life: surrounding oneself with art shapes our thinking, how we relate to ourselves and others and it directs our attention.

Over time, this shifted to something less about my personal space, but about cultural responsibility, about how to contribute to the cultural systems that sustain diverse artistic practices and artistic freedom. Collecting to me today is much less about an individual work rather than about being supportive in various ways. To help that independent artistic practices will remain a vital part of society.

SN: Do you remember the first work you purchased?

CWS: Of course, I remember exactly. It was a work by the Italian artist Turi Simeti, who passed away recently. It is a completely white canvas with wooden ellipses mounted on the back of the canvas, creating slight elevations across the surface. When the work is displayed on the wall, light and shadow shift depending on the surrounding light conditions. Conceptually, the work is rooted in the Zero movement of the 1960s, which was concerned with its focus on reduction, light, space and perception. What drew me to it from the beginning was its calm presence, it radiated a kind of visual quiet. The work still hangs in my home today and it continues to respond to the light and atmosphere in changing ways. That still fascinates me. 

SN: Fashion seems to have been present for you from very early on. What role did it play at that stage, especially in relation to your later engagement with art? Was it always present, or did its significance become more refined over time?

CWS: Fashion has been integral to my thinking from very early on. It fascinated me already as a child, and I enjoyed studying books we had at home about dress making across past centuries as well as international fashion magazines we had at home, I loved playing in my mother’s wardrobe and I would even make things myself. Clothing is part of everyday life and of course you learn quickly that it is an important part of how you feel. But later, I started to pay close attention to what makes certain garments so special as a piece of design – the materials, the levels of craftsmanship, the underlying ideas, whether in terms of design or heritage. This was a different way of looking at it, what it conveys. This awareness only develops over time and is linked to the nature of clothing itself. You live with it, there is no immediate reason to search for deeper layers of meaning. But once you become aware of those some parallels to art can become apparent – in underlying conceptual thinking, precision, techniques, and in how all of these choices shape cultural reality.

In that sense art and fashion often address similar questions even though they operate within different frameworks. What remains different is how one encounters them.

With art, aspects as institutional context, art-historical classification, and market value among many others play an immediate role, while with fashion, especially as part of everyday life, there is no such threshold.  

SN: You are deeply interested in the interaction between art and fashion. For you, what distinguishes a purely commercial brand collaboration from a true artistic symbiosis that increases the inherent value of both disciplines?

CWS: A true artistic symbiosis with genuine added value exists when both sides can learn from one another and when the collaboration leads to something meaningful that neither could achieve on their own. So the question is what fashion can take from art and what in turn art can learn from fashion. Looking at fashion first, this becomes evident. In art history color, material, and proportions are never neutral, but deliberately used to express something. In historical portrait painting, as we discussed earlier, clothing was never accidental. It communicated character, social status, and much more. This helps fashion to understand how clothing can take on a specific meaning through certain design decisions as for example material and color. The same applies to motifs: in the 1930s, Elsa Schiaparelli created several pieces with Salvador Dalí, including the famous Lobster Dress. In this couture creation, a surrealist symbol, the lobster, was used as an embellishment. This challenged and subverted established codes of femininity and contemporary ideas of evening wear at the time. And vice versa: what is it that art learns from fashion? In particular the engagement with the human body. Everything fashion does, material, color, structure, is done with the awareness that the result must be wearable and usable in that sense. Fashion always exists within a social context and must function in everyday reality. And it is subject to an entirely different set of constraints than art since it requires continuous renewal. Works of art mostly endure only because of their intellectual or aesthetic significance across eras; fashion, by contrast, must constantly adapt: seasonally, socially, as well as to practical and economic conditions. From this permanent responsiveness of fashion, art could learn how visual languages can change and still retain their relevance.

SN: In projects like the Art Fashion Conversations, you bring designers and artists together. What would be one of the most urgent question that the fashion world could ask art today and what would be one of the questions art could ask in return?

CWS: I would say that the questions they ask one another are not symmetrical – and that is one of the reasons that makes the dialogue between art and fashion so intriguing . Art might ask fashion how it is still possible today to consistently realize aesthetic concepts without being absorbed by economic constraints. And how one can remain committed to a set of design principles while operating within market logic and being exposed to the demand of constant renewal. What does it mean, from the designer’s perspective, to see one’s work worn and interpreted by others. The wearer may adopt the intended visual language, but not necessarily the values or positions associated with it. 

Conversely, what could fashion ask? Could some forms of art still retreat into mainly aesthetic concepts, allowing its positions to unfold through form, material, and perceptions rather than stating them directly – or do the conditions of the present, shaped by global challenges, require a more direct articulation of where it stands? And, more fundamentally, can a practice that resists such declaration still sustain its relevance today?

SN: If you had the opportunity to spend an evening with an artist regardless of whether they are living or deceased who would it be and what would you talk about?

CWS: It would definitely be Rebecca Horn. She unfortunately passed away two years ago, but will remain one of the most significant artists of our time. She became known primarily for her performative works as well as her expansive installations and kinetic sculptures. Her work often engages with physicality, perception, power, and structures. In a conversation with her, one of the topics I would love to touch on would be her work series called Body Extensions. In these works, she artificially extended parts of the body, arms, legs, even the hands, by attaching feathers, rods, or elongated elements to the fingertips. Through this, she explored the boundaries of the body, intensifying perception and sensitivity; she described this herself as an attempt to make the boundaries of the body more tangible. Today, forms of body modification -artificial nails and other aesthetic interventions – are omnipresent. When Rebecca Horn began working on her series in the 1970s, none of this existed in this form. How would she relate to this phenomenon today? Are there continuities or clear shifts?

She also worked in a distinctly political way and engaged deeply with environmental questions. I would ask her how she assesses the current political and ecological moment, and how she would position herself in relation to that through her work today.

SN: Thank you very much for your detailed and profound answers! It was a great pleasure!

CWS: Likewise! Thank you for your exciting questions!

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PERFORMANCE “URGENCY” AT HAUS DER VISIONÄRE BERLIN https://www.numeroberlin.de/2026/04/performance-urgency-at-haus-der-visionare-berlin/ Thu, 02 Apr 2026 16:29:04 +0000 https://www.numeroberlin.de/?p=70410 “URGENCY” – AN IMMERSIVE DANCE PERFORMANCE

Those entering “Urgency” won’t find themselves in front of a traditional stage. The performers move through the entire space, right among the audience. This makes the environment itself part of the choreography, dissolving the boundary between observer and the action. Depending on where you position yourself, different dancers come into focus. A mysterious figure in a white coat appears again and again, like a recurring thread within a seemingly chaotic yet precisely choreographed structure. The atmosphere is strongly reminiscent of Berlin techno clubs: dark, intense, and full of niches where expressive dance scenes unfold.

Choreographer Renato De Leon explains that the central idea of the piece is based on the figure in the white coat, who initially moves through a euphoric, almost utopian world. This harmony is disrupted by the intrusion of the “normal world”, a reality characterized by rigid rules, regimes, and borders. The dancers represent various internal conflicts, each undergoing their own individual development. This process eventually leads them to come together to break through these imposed barriers.

This is Renato’s first production independently realized under his own label, Leonis Works. The performers include friends he has been collaborating and dancing with for years:

“It was all people that I knew and trusted which is why I chose them, because I wanted to work with a team that I can fully trust and feel good with.”

Created by queer artists and shaped by personal experiences of conflict, rooted particularly in Mexican-American border struggles, the piece reveals how power structures and social systems leave their mark on the body. Movement becomes a direct expression of lived reality. This site-specific approach demonstrates that borders are not abstract concepts, but realities that affect us physically and directly.

The performance feels profoundly personal, artfully translating internal conflicts into a stage experience. Each dancer brings a distinct style and individual energy to the space, yet, the choreographers have succeeded in merging these diverse movement languages into a cohesive narrative that remains visually striking throughout. As these personified emotions, represented by the dancers, eventually converge, the piece finds a beautifully harmonious and well-rounded conclusion.

The production features costumes by HADERLUMP, a Berlin label, which recently showcased its latest collection at Berlin Fashion Week. Technically, the production combines live dance, motion tracking, and projections into an immersive 360-degree environment. A politically charged soundscape, delivered via a d&b audiotechnik spatial sound system, surrounds the audience from all directions and completes the experience.



The performance can be seen on April 2nd and 3rd at Haus der Visionäre in Berlin. Shows start at 8:30 PM and 10:00 PM.



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ART EXHIBTION – MIDNIGHT ZONE BY JULIAN CHARRIÈRE https://www.numeroberlin.de/2026/03/art-exhibtion-midnight-zone-by-julian-charriere/ Fri, 13 Mar 2026 18:40:29 +0000 https://www.numeroberlin.de/?p=69975 JULIAN CHARRIÈRE’S BIGGEST SOLO EXHIBTION YET: ‘MIDNIGHT ZONE’

The exhibition Midnight Zone by French-Swiss artist Julian Charrière at Kunstmuseum Wolfsburg presents a fascinating exploration of the infinite vastness of the sea. In his works Charrière links artistic visions with scientific findings about our environment, with water serving as the central focus. It is the basis of all life and, at the same time, a fiercely contested resource. The exhibition illuminates both the impressive side of the element and the crises of our time, ranging from the climate catastrophe and melting glaciers to the threat to the oceans from pollution and industrial mining on the seabed. In science, the “Midnight Zone” refers to the area of the ocean lying between 1,000 and 4,000 meters below the surface, where no rays of sunlight can reach. It is the namesake of the current exhibition.

To create the feeling of being underwater, the entire hall is completely darkened and accompanied by the actual soundscape that occurs at this depth. Contrary to popular belief, the underwater world is by no means a place of silence. The theme of phonography, acoustic recordings, guides visitors through the first three rooms of the exhibition. Behind this lies the overarching concept of porosity. The recordings of coral reefs make audible how countless organisms, such as snapping shrimp and fish, create a dense fabric of sound. Each reef possesses its very own characteristic acoustic note, which was captured for this work.

A central aspect of the exhibition is rooted in a personal experience of the artist: the so-called “drift dive” in the open ocean. In a drift dive, one allows oneself to drift suspended with the current until, in the monotony of the deep blue, any sense of space and direction disappears. Charrière describes this state as being carried by the water, a physical merging with the environment.

„You can no longer tell what’s up and what’s down. You don’t even feel yourself moving. Instead, you are being cradled by the oceans, held like a child and moved slowly.“

Reemerging far from the starting point illustrates the power of invisible currents and the blurring of the boundary between the individual and the environment. This idea of porosity and merging with the biosphere runs like a common thread through his works.

For a photo series in the exhibition, Charrière collaborated with two breath-hold divers who let themselves glide into the depths without breathing apparatus. The shots show an astounding natural phenomenon: an undersea layer, the halocline, which appears like a second water surface or a “sea beneath the sea.” The works show how human bodies sink into this dense layer and are, in a sense, swallowed by the water. This scenery serves as a metaphor for diving into the unconscious, a state of total suspension in which the boundaries of the physical world seem to blur. A central feature of Julian Charrière’s work is the deliberate use of ambivalence.

“I believe art is ambivalent. The works that truly resonate with me are those that have a certain tension built into them, something that can be unsettling.”

Charrière’s works often possess a very appealing aesthetic, paired with uncanny and hidden elements. This interplay of beauty and unease runs through many of his works.

The video installations show the impressive biodiversity in the dark regions of the ocean. The gaze follows a lamp from the sky down into the midnight zone of the Pacific, making the life hidden there visible. Since this abundance of fish is acutely threatened by the mining of manganese nodules, the artist succeeds in drawing attention to this endangered habitat in a subtle and aesthetic way. These video installations are accompanied by field recordings from the filming location, layered with sounds by Californian musician Laurel Halo.

Through a photo series in which the artist attempted to melt an iceberg for hours with a blowtorch, a reversal of the romantic understanding of nature occurs. While humans are traditionally often portrayed as reverent but distanced observers of nature, Julian Charrière makes them visible as active participants and causes of global change. Even if the physical effect of the burner on the massive ice mass remained minimal, the images capture the point that Julian Charrière wants to make: We are not just guests on this planet, but intervene massively in its vital cycles.

A project that occupied Julian Charrière for over three years, and which he himself describes as perhaps the most complicated project he has ever worked on, arose from the vision of literally reversing the carbon cycle. Carbon, which had been stored in the ground for millions of years and released into the atmosphere by humans, was to be transformed back into the hardest material in the world: diamonds. This process is understood as an “act of reconciliation” with the Earth’s melting ice caps and glaciers.

The creation of the work resembled a scientific and global odyssey. In collaboration with ETH Zurich, the artist used special membranes to extract CO2 directly from the ambient air. When the COVID-19 pandemic made travel impossible, the focus shifted to the human community. Nearly 2,000 balloons with breath donations from people all over the world reached the artist by mail. This collected carbon was metabolized with the help of microorganisms from the deep sea and finally grown into diamonds in a solar-powered plasma reactor. The goal was not the creation of a material object of value, but rather the return of these stones to the receding glaciers, as a symbolic gesture.

“I wasn’t looking to create value, the idea emerged as an act of reconciliation.”

Julian Charrière meets criticism of the ecological footprint of his art practice with remarkable openness. He describes his life as being in a state of constant ambivalence. The awareness of his own carbon footprint through travel and transport stands in contrast to the goal of creating visibility for endangered places through highly aesthetic works like Midnight Zone. Midnight Zone is Julian Charrière’s largest solo exhibition to date. In cooperation with Museum Tinguely, a space was created for Wolfsburg in which one can dive deep into the sea and experience and understand it in a new way. The exhibition makes the beauty and the threat to our oceans, as well as the biodiversity in the depths, physically tangible, bringing the element of water into focus in a completely new way.

Exhibition opening on March 13, 2026, at 7 p.m.,

 

Open 14.3.–12.7.2026

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IN CONVERSATION WITH JOHANNES BOEHL CRONAU https://www.numeroberlin.de/2026/02/in-conversation-with-johannes-boehl-cronau/ Mon, 02 Feb 2026 00:21:42 +0000 https://www.numeroberlin.de/?p=68724 “I’d rather be a more “cuntified” version of The Row than a brand that constantly has to deliver.”

Words by ALEXANDRA SCHMIDT
Photography ROSA LOBE

ioannes is an independent fashion label, founded by Johannes Boehl Cronau, that has developed a very distinctive handwriting. The designs exist beyond trends. They are guided more by what feels right and what inspires them in the moment than by the rhythm of the seasons.

 

Johannes’ interest in design goes far beyond fashion. Architecture, interiors, and craft are central to his work and shape not only the collections but also the way ioannes thinks and operates. Garments are never considered in isolation but as part of a larger context.

 

In an industry so focused on visibility and growth, ioannes deliberately operates on a smaller, more controlled scale. We spoke with Johannes about his new collection at Berlin Fashion Week, his take on the current market, and the people who inspire him the most.

Alexandra Schmidt: Your studio has a warm, almost familial calm to it. What does home mean to you?
Johannes Boehl Cronau: I’m realizing more and more, both for myself and for our brand, how important the idea of home and the domestic space has become. I love interiors, I love architecture, and I come from a family-run craft business in a small village. That’s completely part of my DNA. For me, craftsmanship is home.
You once wanted to become an architect, right?
I did want to be an architect, and I think my mother would have liked that too. The idea of home is incredibly important to me. I was exposed early on to Architectural Digest and Vogue, which were delivered to our village, even though it was very small. There was this rural context, but at the same time there was always a view out into the wider world.
So how did fashion enter the picture?

For a long time, I was genuinely torn between architecture and acting. Then I went to Paris and looked through the curricula of architecture programs, and I got a little bored because so much of it was already familiar to me. Acting felt a bit intimidating, to be honest. And then I drifted into fashion because it had always fascinated me, yet it was the one area where I knew nothing.

I don’t have a story about my grandmother always sewing with me. In fact, I couldn’t sew, and I really hated it. But I wanted to learn. When I started my bachelor’s, I thought I should at least see it through. After that, I did an internship with Haider Ackermann, and that’s when I thought, okay, this could actually work. Honestly, it was a bit of a struggle to find my commitment.

Do you get bored easily?
I have a certain impatience and like to see results quickly. Fashion is exactly that. You can fully dive into a concept and make it tangible in no time. It’s very visual, and in theory, you can explore a completely new topic every six months. Of course, in practice, a lot happens at the same time, and the more collections you have, the more you also return to things from the archive. I find this repetition, what materials, what colors, really fascinating. On one hand, there’s always something new happening, on the other, it’s about seeing which patterns and motifs keep reappearing.
In what ways do you think your Fall/Winter 2026 collection will influence ioannes moving forward?
Having inspiration and imagination is a luxury of the early phase.
As more stores, retailers, and wholesale partners come on board, more structure sets in, and a lot of energy shifts toward administration. Suddenly, you encounter new limits and challenges. With this collection and looking back at the first one in Berlin six months ago, I really allow myself to experiment. Right now, so many social and economic questions are emerging, like how small and mid-size brands can reposition themselves and find a sense of regionality and intimacy. I find that exciting because it’s not just about being “new and bigger,” it’s about figuring out where you stand as an individual and as a collective. Fashion is extremely personal, which is both its strength and its challenge.

Commercial success and reach are often underestimated, but they are skills in themselves and a form of self-awareness. At the moment, we are redefining ourselves, thinking carefully about how we want to make clothes, going back to craftsmanship, prioritizing what really matters, and reflecting on what we produce. This focus on regionality and authenticity makes sense both creatively and economically.

“I believe you should never wear something just because it’s trendy or considered cool if it conflicts with your inner self.”
How do you design for the market while remaining creatively authentic?
Buyers usually look for one thing: is there a clear essence? Is there an identity that feels exciting? Looking back at my first collections, my focus was completely on the product, but there were no shirts. Simply put, if you go to the Dover Street Market today, you see shirts, trousers, T-shirts, and jackets. Back then, my focus wasn’t on what would actually be in stores. It’s really just a straightforward reworking of archetypal garments, and I realized that a little too late. I was too focused on what we wanted to see. Our collection was very light and squiggly, but for winter, people were focused on jackets and heavier garments.

 

Right now, we’re going through another shift where everything is being redefined. It’s no longer about who benefits but about rebuilding and figuring out whether we still want to align with Fashion Weeks or focus more on mini-capsules and drops.

Your brand has always been deliberately positioned as very niche. Were there moments when you wished for a stronger presence in the mainstream?
Of course. It almost feels a bit outdated to think that way now, because we come from a mindset where mass exposure and visibility were equated with success. You do something the right way, and if it’s done right, it’s considered good. I’m grateful that we’ve had very visible partners like Kylie and Rihanna. On the other hand, I’m also grateful that our brand has never become too big, especially over the last six years. When something grows too fast, it can start to consume itself. That’s an incredibly fascinating learning curve. With more experience and reflection, I no longer measure my value by exposure or follower count. Instead, I ask myself what I truly feel connected to in my work.
How do you define your brand today?

I think we’re only just reaching a point where we’re perceived with a certain depth. That perception needs time to develop and grows slowly. I’m realizing more and more that ioannes isn’t a brand I have to serve. ioannes is the framework in which I experience being an independent designer and creative. Today, I give myself the authority to decide what that framework looks like and how it can be the best possible practice for me.

 

At the same time, there’s a certain kind of guidance. Since being on Net-a-Porter, everything I design sparks a reaction. After Rihanna and Kylie wore our dresses, we suddenly became known as the Lycra print brand. I was never about bodycon or prints, but I embraced that identity because it takes decisions off my plate and gives structure.

 

For me, the brand isn’t just the printed dress. I ask myself how it can be everything, how I can use the space, the studio, host dinners, or collaborate with partners. Eighty percent of what’s in my atelier, I designed myself or created in collaboration with friends. The furniture comes from our own carpentry workshop, and the lamps from designer friends in Spain. I don’t want to make clothing every single day. Today it could be a lamp collaboration, tomorrow a rug made from leftover stock from Scherling jackets. At the beginning, I had to focus on fashion because you have to start somewhere. But ultimately, I want to do everything.

“Having inspiration and imagination is a luxury of the early phase.”
How do you handle visibility?
I’m not some spicy social media god.
I hate posting, I often don’t know what to share, and then I ask others if it’s okay. It doesn’t come naturally to me. What comes naturally is knowing exactly where to place a flower. I guess I’m missing a 21st-century skill there. But I do believe in persistence and consistency, and that visibility comes when something wants to be seen and is ready for it. We’re often told we have to be Beyoncé, and eventually you realize maybe you’re more like Adele. I don’t want a 160-date world tour. I want to do three concerts in one place and then have my peace.
Do you ever feel pressure to create something new?

Not really, I don’t feel pressure. To me, “new” is such a capitalist concept, like why we need this one Teflon pan instead of another. There is genuine novelty in a technical sense, for example, in how fabrics are made, whether seams are necessary, or if 3D printing can be used. But in the way we approach fashion, it’s not really about being new. It’s about whether a piece, with everything it carries, its influences, impressions, and personal sensations, is authentic and true to the brand. Whether it expresses something meaningful, becomes visible, makes the right use of material and silhouette, and strengthens the brand. I find it exciting to see how brands will position themselves now, because the system is slowly exhausting itself, and many people no longer want to chase every trend. It’s about setting priorities, curating what makes sense in everyday life, and what brings joy. I’d rather be a more “cuntified” version of The Row than a brand that constantly has to deliver.

How did you end up choosing womenswear?
I think menswear ultimately works according to codes, certain rules, a kind of template that everyone more or less follows. Since I was interested in so many topics at once and womenswear promised something completely free and limitless, that’s what I chose. As a child, I used to look at the red-carpet images in Vogue. It’s funny how far I am from the red carpet now, especially since it’s actually more restrictive than anything else we do. I love things that are used in everyday life, and that’s simply my vision of the woman who inspires me in my daily life.
“When something grows too fast, it can start to consume itself.”
You’re showing at Berlin Fashion Week for the second time in a row, after previously showing in Paris. Do you think Berlin Fashion Week is already reaching its full potential? If not, what do you think it still needs?
I think everyone needs to be given time first. We are really impatient. Berlin doesn’t need to become Paris. For some reason, Berlin has this uncertainty about giving itself time. It’s so focused on “we have to become one of the five fashion capitals.” That doesn’t matter. As long as it’s good and authentic. Even from a commercial perspective, is louder always better? It’s really about understanding relevance. I think the great thing is that Berlin and the Fashion Council have learned to give us space. We can present our work without having to edit it beforehand. It’s not like “we’re going to be the Sustainability Fashion Week now.” It just lets us do what we do, and the rest will follow.

 

With us, Ottolinger, GmbH, and William Fan, there’s already a diversity of brands and, ideally, also of customers. We just need space and time and continued support, not only by funding the show but also by supporting the structure behind the companies.

Curiosity seems to play a big role in your work, like asking what happens to a fabric when you treat it in a certain way. How much of your process is driven by that curiosity?

Almost everything, actually. Some people plan everything like architects and then execute it exactly, but for me it’s more trial and error. I see what happens, experiment, and pick things up along the way. Sometimes, for example, we dye all the sweatshirts, and suddenly one piece ends up accidentally packed wrong or in the wrong color. I like these little surprises because they show how many hands a garment passes through and how much craftsmanship is still involved.

 

A good example is our prints. We use a blowtorch to burn designs onto wood, scan and digitize the results, and then apply them by hand onto the garments. Or the bias cuts inspired by Madame Vionnet, or the ruffle tops inspired by random vintage pieces. We often play with silhouettes, lines, seams, and construction. And sometimes at the last minute we decide we need gloves and just see what comes out. All of this comes from curiosity and the joy of experimentation.

“I want to do three concerts in one place and then have my peace.”
What do you think clothing can express about identity or personality that words simply can’t?
I find it hard to say that about anyone else, I can only speak for myself. I’m completely intuitive, and I feel “dressed up” very quickly. If something doesn’t align with my mood or my identity, I feel incredibly uncomfortable. I believe you should never wear something just because it’s trendy or considered cool if it conflicts with your inner self. I just can’t relate to that. I always found it funny when friends or family used to ask me if they could really wear something. Honestly, I hardly have any judgment there. Just wear what you like and what feels right to you.
How do you feel right after an ioannes fashion show, and how do you handle criticism?

Ideally, I feel very satisfied with my performance. In reality, I notice the compromises I made that I really shouldn’t have. This time, I try to do everything as if it were the last time, to push myself to be more radical in my decisions, and to avoid saying for the tenth time that I actually don’t love how something turned out.

 

Honestly, criticism is rather secondary for me. My brand is too niche for anyone to truly influence its direction. I’m realistic about that. For me, it’s only about presenting something I fully believe in and am genuinely satisfied with.

Which people inspire you personally?
My two sisters. They are archetypal examples of what I admire: this autonomous, highly self-determined form of lived femininity. One of my sisters runs our family’s mid-sized business as the next generation of women in the family, and my youngest sister is an ornithologist, traveling across Germany to observe birds. Both are so authentic and fully live their lives. They don’t structure their lives around external validation, which is constantly present in fashion. Instead, they base their choices on their own values. I find that incredibly inspiring. I have two very confident sisters, and I’d love to have even a little of that for myself.
“I’m not some spicy social media god.”
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“I’VE MISSED OUR CONVERSATIONS” AT SCHLACHTER 151 https://www.numeroberlin.de/2026/01/ive-missed-our-conversations-at-schlachter-151/ Thu, 29 Jan 2026 16:11:57 +0000 https://www.numeroberlin.de/?p=68540 I’ve Missed Our Conversations examines how artificial intelligence is reshaping emotion intimacy and human connection

On Tuesday, 27 January, Schlachter 151 hosted the opening of I’ve Missed Our Conversations. On AI, Emotions, and Being Human. Curated by Anika Meier and presented by OOR Studio, the exhibition approaches artificial intelligence not as innovation or spectacle, but as a conversational presence that absorbs projection, generates attachment, and reshapes emotional language. Bringing together works by more than 20 international artists, the exhibition examines what happens when emotion becomes relational and no longer exclusively human.

Working across text, image, voice, and system, the exhibition traces shifting forms of intimacy between humans and machines. Rather than questioning whether AI can feel, the focus turns toward human response and emotional investment within these exchanges. The opening unfolded as an attentive and engaged exchange, accompanied by drinks by Paulaner and wine by Von Winning, subtly framed the evening as a shared social moment.

Lynn Hershman Leeson’s Cyborgian Rhapsody. Immortality from 2023 anchors the exhibition through the voice of Sarah, a GPT 3 chatbot reflecting on love, grief, and digital continuity. Margaret Murphy’s dialogue with Teen Margaret, a younger digital version of herself trained on personal diaries, collapses time into conversation and reframes happiness as something fragile and constructed. Malpractice and Flynn expand the emotional vocabulary itself, introducing terms such as AI grief, prompt envy, ego collapse, and fear of being obsolete.

In Emotional Latency, Kevin Abosch shifts emotion fully onto the human side, where it emerges through conversation rather than computation. David Young extends this question by asking whether concern for AI suffering matters less than the feelings such systems evoke in people.

In AUTO Berlin, Lauren Lee McCarthy made visible the appeal of relinquishing control and participating in systems without a clear author. What remained present throughout the evening was not anxiety about technology, but a sense of closeness, revealing how deeply these systems already shape emotional life.

I’ve Missed Our Conversations does not seek resolution. Instead, it creates a space for encounter between humans, machines, and the emotions that circulate between them.

Artists: aurèce vettier, Kevin Abosch, Vasil Berela, Boris Eldagsen, Joan Fontcuberta, Hein Gravenhorst, Lynn Hershman Leeson, Gottfried Jäger, Lauren Lee McCarthy, Flynn by Malpractice, Malpractice, Margaret Murphy, Namae Koi by Mieke Haase, OONA, Franziska Ostermann, Elisabeth Sweet, Tamiko Thiel, David Young, Mike Tyka, Erika Weitz

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WEEKEND MUSIC PT. 79: JUDELINE https://www.numeroberlin.de/2026/01/weekend-music-pt-79-judeline/ Fri, 23 Jan 2026 18:47:55 +0000 https://www.numeroberlin.de/?p=68350

Judeline, whose real name is Lara Fernández Castrelo, is a singer from Andalusia who was the only Spanish artist to perform at the American Coachella festival in 2025. Her stage name is a reference to her father’s favorite song, “Hey Jude” by the Beatles. 

At the age of 17, Judeline immersed herself in the world of jam sessions and recording studios in Madrid and began to develop her own unique style of latin music.

In December of 2025, she released her second album, “VERANO SAUDADE,” and is now embarking on her second major international tour.

She made her international breakthrough in 2024 with her debut album, “Bodhiria,” released on Interscope Records, a label that has Lana Del Rey and Billie Eilish under contract, among others.

Judeline’s music is characterized by poetic, spiritual, and atmospheric soundscapes carried by introspective and personal lyrics. Her sound ranges from indie pop to Latin pop, marked by strong electronic influences, including EDM and experimental pop. This style is complemented by elements of hip-hop, R&B, house, and funk, as well as traditional musical influences, some of which have Afro or folkloric references. Her debut EP, De la Luz, released in 2022, caught the attention of Rosalía and Bad Bunny, two of the leading artists in experimental latin pop music.

The genre mix gives her music a dreamy, experimental atmosphere that remains accessible and danceable. This aesthetic signature is also reflected in her live performances. Artfully staged, emotionally charged, and visually powerful, they mirror the nature-loving and spiritual motifs of her lyrics.

The tour kicks off on January 24 in London and takes them across Europe and North and South America. On January 29, Judeline will perform at the Columbia Theater in Berlin, tickets are currently still available.

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