As we turned the corner of Lindenstrasse, the museum’s disarming modern architecture was unmistakable. The building’s zinc and titanium exterior makes it almost impossible to distinguish one floor from another, while intersecting diagonal lines almost shout conflict and confusion. Surprisingly, we entered through an old baroque building that stands in sharp contrast, a 1735 structure that once served as the Prussian Court of Justice. But the entrance leads down through an underground passageway that evokes a kind of void, the emptiness left when the thriving Jewish community was ripped from the heart of Berlin. American architect Daniel Libeskind was very deliberate about all his choices. The zig-zag structure has many interpretations, but one thing is clear: you are meant to feel unsettled. The floors are tilted, the walls angular.
Read More