MUNICH FOUND talks to David B. Walker about hip location "Die Registratur"
It’s 10:35 on a Friday evening in downtown Munich and nothing’s happening on Blumenstrasse—it’s early yet. But inside Die Registratur, a vibrant new club on Munich’s cultural scene, the staff is moving into frantic mode. In less than 30 minutes, the massive steel doors will swing open and admit a crowd of young clubbers, and there are still a hundred things to do: limes need to be cut, ice must be moved, the bar needs stocking and the float has to be organized … the list seems endless. Dressed in a T-shirt and baseball cap more like a roadie than a manager, David Blake Walker saunters through the club, lending a hand where necessary and keeping an experienced eye on proceedings. Eight hours into a shift that may run to eighteen, David B. (not an affectation, but simply a way to distinguish himself from the other David Walkers in Munich) calmly skirts the frenzied activity, but cannot keep completely aloof. His mobile has rung six times in the last ten minutes. The beer’s not cold enough. And now there is a scraggy-looking journalist from MUNICH FOUND after an interview. “Grab a seat at the bar. I’ll be with you when I have a minute,” he tells me in a laid back, friendly American drawl. It was 1992, on the last day of service of the old Riem airport, when Walker arrived in Munich. It was the beginning of a new era not just for Munich, but for the young American too, though the architect had no idea of the change in direction his life was about to take. Until then Walker’s career path had been moving along smoothly. The day after graduating from Kansas State University, Walker packed his pickup and headed for New York, where he landed a job with the renowned architectural office of Richard Meier. His relocation to Munich was part of the Siemens Forum project—the building on Oskar-von-Miller-Ring eventually opened in 1999. His initial impressions of Munich were not favorable. The people seemed unfriendly and the atmosphere was almost like a backward village. “I suppose I missed the café culture of New York. Here it seemed to be Müller Brot, bitter coffee and uninspired sandwiches. This is only a simple illustration, but in some ways Munich made even South Dakota (where he was born) seem sophisticated.” Yet, despite the culture shock, Walker stayed. A three-month stint extended to six, extended to a year, blew out to 18 months and then, as his relationship with a local woman developed, became permanent. He left Richard Meier for the Munich architectural firm of Lauber & Wöhr, former pupils of Richard Meier, when an opportunity arose on a project in Potsdamer Platz in Berlin. “It was a prestigious job. I was a young architect and for the first time I had the opportunity to take a project all the way from beginning to end, from design to completion. Naturally, I jumped at the chance.” It proved stressful and demanding. He was flying to Berlin every week and it put strain on both him and his relationship. Somewhere in the middle of the five-year project, the relationship broke up, but, to his surprise, he stayed on. “Munich,” he says, “just keeps getting better. There are more bars, more cafés and the people are opening up a little. It’s becoming more cosmopolitan.” With the Berlin project completed, he switched to another company, which designs cinemas. The new job didn’t prove to be as demanding or as exciting as he had imagined. After a short time, he left and struck out on his own, taking on small architectural projects and renovation work. Finding himself at a loose end in 2003, he was considering returning home when a friend, Sebastian Kruse, inquired if he was interested in starting a club at Blumenstrasse 28. The building, former offices of the City of Munich and the Stadtwerke, is being leased relatively cheaply until funds are found to redevelop the building. The two friends visited the site and were excited. From an architectural point of view, the space (the former city Hall of Records) was outstanding. A mezzanine skirts two sides of the interior, and the ceiling consists of an unusual structure comprising two layers of glass. At 7 or 8 am in the morning (on Fridays and Saturdays, the club has no closing time—unique in Munich) the space is suffused with a lucent light. “We decided to establish a platform for communication. We were both novices to the business, but I always wanted to open a live-music venue or café. Architecture can be so abstract. You are completely out of touch with the end user and the projects run so long. I felt a need for more direct contact,” Walker explains. “We thought we’d do a few cultural events a week and invest a few hours every day. It’s turned out to be a seven-day week. Regardless of whether we are open or not, we don’t take any days off. If it’s not the bookings, then it’s the press, the promotion, the marketing or Website. It is so much more work than we anticipated. For the moment, architecture has been pushed to the side.” Although at times he wonders if it is worthwhile, David B. admits he is having a blast. On any night in the club, you are as likely to come across an urban art exhibition, an independent cinema screening or a literary panel discussion as you are to hear some of the most cutting-edge electro music in Europe. The partners also plan to introduce open-mike events, as well as include a little more rock & roll. As David B., himself a musician, comments, “I’m from South Dakota, so it’s in my blood.” Before finishing the interview, I ask, “Have you ever thought of returning home?” “You know, my mother asks me that a lot. I told her, ‘Next time, vote for a different president,’” Walker responds with a laugh, but then has to go. His mobile is ringing again. For more information on Die Registratur visit www.dieregistratur.de.