Lenin, Houdini, and U2: Surprising Berlin Connections

Berlin has always been more than a backdrop to history — it’s a magnet for genius, scandal, and reinvention. From Beethoven’s stormy improvisations before the Prussian court to Munch’s controversial exhibition that shook the city’s art world, from Tchaikovsky’s encounters with the Berlin Philharmonic to Michael Jackson waving from the Adlon balcony — the German capital has quietly shaped, and been shaped by, some of the world’s most iconic artists and dreamers. These are their stories, set against the ever-changing stage of Berlin.

Harry Houdini – The Escape Artist Who Conquered Berlin

His escape acts were spectacular — but in the United States, Harry Houdini initially struggled to attract attention. So he set off for Europe, where his fame truly began. From London to Dresden, his path eventually led to Berlin. There, his daring performances caused a sensation: even when he let experienced police officers tie him up — sometimes completely naked — he could free himself with ease. Word spread fast, and his first performance at Berlin’s famous Wintergarten was immediately sold out.

Not everyone believed in his skills, though. Houdini was accused of fraud. In 1902, he demanded to enter the courtroom in police handcuffs to prove his authenticity — and astonished the judges by freeing himself right before their eyes. From that moment on, Berlin couldn’t get enough of him.

He began performing regularly at the Circus Busch near Hackescher Markt. In 1908, he pulled off one of his most famous Berlin stunts: after being bound and loaded with iron chains, he ran out of the circus to the nearby Museum Island and leapt into the River Spree. For a full minute, he vanished underwater — only to reappear, completely free. Another iconic act premiered in Berlin as well: the “Chinese Water Torture Cell,” where Houdini was suspended upside down in a glass tank, holding his breath for over three minutes to escape. It became his signature trick.

World War I put an end to his German performances. But by then, thanks in part to his Berlin triumphs, Houdini had become an international superstar — finally celebrated back home in the U.S.

Vladimir Ilyich Lenin – The Revolutionary from Moabit

Even Lenin once had a Berlin address — in fact, two of them. During his first stay in Germany in August and September 1895, he lived in the working-class district of Moabit, at Flensburger Straße 12, with a Mrs. Kurreick. In a letter to his mother, he describe-d his daily life in what was then one of Berlin’s fastest-growing neighborhoods:

“A few steps from my apartment is the Tiergarten (a magnificent park, the finest and largest in Berlin), the River Spree, where I bathe every day, and the Stadtbahn station. Here, a railway crosses the city above the streets — every five minutes a train passes. So, the connection with the city is very convenient.”

At the Royal Library on Unter den Linden, Lenin spent hours hunched over volumes of Das Kapital, copying notes by hand. Germany, the birthplace of Marxism, was for him a kind of ideological pilgrimage — Berlin its intellectual heart.

He admired the city’s discipline, its order, and its network of workers’ associations. For a time, he even considered settling here, surrounded by the socialists and theorists who inspired his own vision. But police surveillance was never far behind, and by the turn of the century, he moved on — first to Munich, then to Zurich, then into exile.

To this day, traces of his presence remain — at Humboldt University, where he studied Marx and political theory, there is still a “Lenin Window” in the library, a relic from the GDR era commemorating his intellectual connection to Berlin.

Josephine Baker – Berlin’s Almost Superstar

When stepped onto the stage of the Nelson-Theater on in January 1926, Berlin had never seen anything like her. Dressed in feathers, laughter, and defiance, the 19-year-old from St. Louis electrified a city hungry for freedom, rhythm, and something entirely new.

It was here — not Paris — that Baker’s famous half-naked dance first made her a sensation. Berlin audiences, weary of politics and thrilled by glamour, showered her with flowers and applause night after night. “No other city,” she would later recall, “ever gave me so many compliments or so many flowers.”

For a brief moment, Berlin almost became her home. Offers poured in, the press adored her, and she found in the city’s cabaret scene a place that celebrated her daring and her difference. But when Paris offered a richer contract and a bigger stage, she followed the money west — a decision that would make her an international legend.

Still, Berlin remembers her debut as the spark that set Europe alight. Before Paris claimed her, Berlin had already fallen in love.

Join me on my Weimar Berlin Tour for more on Berlin in the 1920s!

David Bowie – The Man Who Became a Berlin Hero

When moved to Berlin in 1976, the city was still divided — grey, tense, and yet strangely liberating. Escaping the excesses of fame and drug addiction in Los Angeles, Bowie found in West Berlin what he later called “a sense of normality.”

He settled into a modest apartment at Hauptstraße 155 in Schöneberg, sharing the flat for a time with Iggy Pop. The two could often be seen riding the U-Bahn, browsing record shops, or drinking coffee at the nearby Neues Ufer café — one of Berlin’s first openly gay cafés.

In this unlikely refuge, Bowie created some of his most groundbreaking music. Between 1976 and 1978, he recorded the legendary “Berlin Trilogy” — Low, Heroes, and Lodger — at the Hansa-Studios, near the Berlin Wall. The title track “Heroes”, inspired by a couple kissing by the Wall, became an anthem of divided Berlin and one of the most iconic songs of the Cold War era.

When he wasn’t in the studio, Bowie could be found at the Dschungel club on Nürnberger Straße, mingling with Berlin’s art scene.

Berlin gave Bowie space to reinvent himself — as a person and as an artist. It stripped away the glamour and left only the music. Decades later, Berlin still remembers him not just as a superstar, but as the man who sang for its freedom and, in doing so, became a part of its soul.

Casanova – The Charmer at Sanssouci

When Giacomo Casanova arrived in Berlin and Potsdam in the summer of 1764, the great adventurer was already a legend across Europe — gambler, writer, seducer, and fugitive from Venice’s infamous “Leads” prison. At 39, freshly escaped from heartbreak and debt in London, he found himself in the refined world of Frederick the Great’s Prussia.

Casanova’s charm opened doors even to Sanssouci Palace, where he met the philosopher-king himself. “You are a handsome man,” Frederick is said to have told him. Casanova, never at a loss for words, replied with courtly wit — a brief exchange between two men of vastly different worlds, yet both lovers of intellect and elegance.

The Venetian proposed to run Prussia’s struggling state lottery, a plan clever enough to impress the King, who even offered him a teaching post at a cadet school. Casanova declined — Berlin was too disciplined for a spirit like his. Within weeks, he moved on, leaving behind little more than an anecdote and a flutter of curiosity among the capital’s salons.

Still, in those few weeks, Casanova had walked through Frederick’s gardens, crossed the Bridges of the Spree, and left a trace of Venetian decadence in the heart of the Enlightenment. It was one of his quieter adventures — but one that showed how even Berlin could briefly fall under his spell.

Join me on my Potsdam Tour to learn all about Frederick the Great and his Court!

U2 – Reinvented in Berlin

For U2, Berlin was more than just a city — it was a turning point. When the Irish band arrived at the Hansa Studios in Kreuzberg in 1990, they were on the brink of breaking up. Creative tensions were high, the Berlin Wall had just fallen, and the world around them was shifting. Out of that tension came Achtung Baby (1991), an album that completely reinvented their sound — darker, edgier, and laced with Berlin’s electronic pulse.

Bono later said that the atmosphere of the newly reunited city — full of chaos, optimism, and concrete beauty — saved the band. They stayed at a former SED guesthouse, once home to Leonid Brezhnev, and accidentally stumbled into a communist rally on the night of October 3rd, 1990 — the very day of German reunification.

Since then, U2 has returned to Berlin again and again: from early gigs at the Metropol in 1981, to the iconic 2009 concert at the Brandenburg Gate, to marathon nights at the Mercedes-Benz Arena. The band even filmed parts of their video for “One” inside Hansa Studios and “Stay (Faraway, So Close!)” with Berlin director Wim Wenders.

For U2, Berlin wasn’t just a backdrop — it was their rebirth. Every time Bono shouts, “Berlin, I love you!”, it’s not just for the crowd. It’s for the city that brought U2 back to life.

Buffalo Bill – The Wild West at Kurfürstendamm

In the summer of 1890, Berlin went wild for the Wild West. For one week only, Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show transformed the Kurfürstendamm into a frontier town. Near Joachimsthaler Straße — where today’s Karstadt stands — the famous scout William “Buffalo Bill” Cody set up a vast arena that could hold 10,000 spectators. Over 60,000 Berliners came to see the spectacle.

The show was like nothing the city had ever witnessed: 39 wigwams, 200 Native Americans from tribes like the Arapaho and Sioux, thundering horses, stagecoach robberies, and the legendary sharpshooter Annie Oakley, who famously shot a cigarette from her husband’s lips — and even a cigar from Kaiser Wilhelm II’s hand.

Buffalo Bill himself — with his signature hat, leather fringes, and showman’s flair — became an instant Berlin celebrity. Each evening after the show, visitors could wander through the camp, buy cowboy hats or furs, and meet the “Indians” face-to-face.

For Berliners of 1890, it was a thrilling taste of America — part myth, part marketing genius. Buffalo Bill may have ridden off to the eternal hunting grounds in 1917, but for one glorious Berlin summer, the Wild West lived right on the Kurfürstendamm.

Voltaire – The Philosopher at Sanssouci

When Voltaire arrived in Potsdam on July 10, 1750, it seemed like the perfect meeting of minds. The great French philosopher and wit of the Enlightenment had finally accepted Frederick the Great’s long-standing invitation. For years, the Prussian king had admired Voltaire’s writings and corresponded with him in glowing letters. Now, he welcomed his idol to Sanssouci Palace, offering him a generous salary, fine lodgings, and even the Order Pour le Mérite.

Voltaire became Chamberlain to the king, teaching him the art of style, rhetoric, and poetry. Their conversations over the famous Tafelrunde dinners at Sanssouci became legendary. “The suppers were most delightful,” Voltaire later wrote. “The king had wit, and inspired it in others.”

But the golden friendship didn’t last. Rivalries at court — especially with the mathematician Pierre-Louis Maupertuis, president of the Berlin Academy — soon turned sour. Voltaire’s sharp pen got the better of him: in 1752, he published a satirical pamphlet mocking Maupertuis, despite the king’s orders not to. Around the same time, Voltaire’s questionable financial dealings came to light. Frederick felt betrayed, writing bitterly that he had been “squeezed like an orange.”

On March 26, 1753, Voltaire quietly left Potsdam under the pretext of taking a holiday — and never returned. Though their friendship ended in scandal, Frederick and Voltaire continued to write to each other until the philosopher’s death.

For a brief, brilliant moment, Berlin and Potsdam had been the stage for Europe’s greatest minds — a royal experiment in reason and wit that burned bright, then flamed out in true Enlightenment drama.

Iggy Pop – The Wild Passenger of Schöneberg

In 1976, West Berlin gained two unforgettable residents: David Bowie and Iggy Pop. Seeking refuge from their destructive drug habits in the U.S., they landed in the gritty, alternative neighborhood of Schöneberg.

Iggy arrived relatively clean from heroin — but Berlin’s nightlife, cheap booze, and endless temptation quickly took their toll. Sharing a seven-room flat on Hauptstraße with Bowie and a few friends, Iggy avoided heroin but indulged in cocaine, opium, Valium, pills, and mountains of alcohol and cigarettes. Bowie tried to keep him afloat, but eventually Iggy had to move to the building’s rear wing, still exploring the city daily.

Berlin’s streets and S-Bahn trips to Wannsee inspired him to write his iconic hit, “The Passenger.” Meanwhile, Bowie became his mentor, producing and arranging The Idiot and Lust for Life at the legendary Hansa Studios.

Yet despite the music and camaraderie, Berlin could not save Iggy from his demons. After two years, he returned to the U.S., leaving behind the city that had inspired some of his most enduring work — a brief but crucial chapter in rock history.

Mark Twain – The American Observer in Berlin

In October 1891, Mark Twain arrived in Berlin with his family, seeking relief from financial troubles and his wife’s health issues. What he found was a city that both fascinated and baffled him: bustling, modern, and meticulously ordered — a far cry from the lazy Mississippi towns he knew. Twain famously called it the “Chicago of Europe.”

Twain’s first lodgings in Tiergarten left him unimpressed — he described the area as a “rag-pickers’ paradise.” Soon he moved to the more prestigious Hotel Royal on Unter den Linden, placing him in the heart of Berlin’s intellectual and political life. He attended salons, dined with diplomats, and even met Emperor Wilhelm II, all while observing Berlin’s rigid etiquette with his signature wit.

The German language, with its labyrinthine grammar and impossibly long street names, became Twain’s constant source of frustration. Navigating the city felt like reading a novel, he joked, while Berlin’s trams and omnibuses tested his patience daily. Yet he admired the city’s efficiency, discipline, and bureaucracy, marveling at how method and order permeated every aspect of life.

Twain spent just five months in Berlin, but they were enough to inspire essays and letters full of humor, curiosity, and sharp observation. From bureaucratic wonders to confounding street names, Berlin left a lasting impression on the American humorist. Today, a plaque at Körnerstraße 7 commemorates his residence, and streets and schools across Berlin bear his name — a subtle reminder that even Twain, a wanderer at heart, found Berlin unforgettable.

Albert Einstein – Genius Moves to Berlin

In 1914, Albert Einstein relocated to Berlin, leaving his professorship in Zurich behind and stepping into the intellectual heart of the German Empire. The city became both his laboratory and his stage. Einstein joined the Prussian Academy of Sciences, gaining the freedom to pursue theoretical physics without teaching obligations, and Berlin quickly became the center of his groundbreaking work.

The capital’s vibrant scientific community, combined with salons and cafés filled with philosophers, mathematicians, and fellow physicists, offered Einstein the stimulation he craved. Here he developed ideas that would later revolutionize physics, including further explorations of general relativity. Berlin also connected him to political and cultural circles; he engaged in debates on pacifism, Zionism, and social issues, becoming a public intellectual as much as a scientist.

Einstein lived in Berlin’s Prussian-style apartments, often entertaining colleagues and visiting students, but he remained a humble and somewhat private man. Despite the city’s bustle, he cherished quiet moments walking through Tiergarten, where he could think freely and let his imagination roam.

Berlin would remain Einstein’s base until the rise of the Nazi regime forced him to leave Germany in 1933, ending his years in the city that had witnessed his greatest scientific and public achievements. Yet, for almost two decades, Berlin had been the stage on which the world’s most famous physicist brought the universe a little closer to understanding.

Vladimir Nabokov – The Exile Writer in Berlin

In the 1920s, long before he became famous for Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov lived in Berlin as part of the Russian émigré community. Fleeing the upheaval of the Russian Revolution, Nabokov and his family sought refuge in the city’s vibrant Russian-speaking neighborhoods, especially around Charlottenburg.

Berlin offered Nabokov a rare combination of anonymity and stimulation. By day, he worked as a tutor and translator; by night, he immersed himself in émigré salons, literary circles, and the bustling cafés where Russian writers, artists, and intellectuals gathered. The city’s energy and diversity shaped his early novels, written in Russian, blending nostalgia for his lost homeland with the modernist pulse of Berlin.

Although the Weimar years were often financially precarious, Berlin allowed Nabokov to develop his craft. It was here that he refined his poetic style, experimented with narrative structures, and began the themes of exile, memory, and identity that would define his later work. By the early 1930s, with the rise of Nazism threatening Jewish émigrés, Nabokov moved on to Paris and eventually the United States, but Berlin remained a formative chapter in the life of one of the 20th century’s greatest literary minds.

Martin Luther King Jr. – Berlin’s Voice of Freedom

In 1964, Martin Luther King Jr. visited West Berlin at the height of the Cold War, shortly after receiving the Nobel Peace Prize. The divided city, split between East and West, resonated deeply with King, who saw parallels between Berlin’s struggle for freedom and the fight against racial injustice in the United States.

Welcomed by tens of thousands at the Waldbühne and other venues, King delivered speeches celebrating democracy, human dignity, and nonviolent resistance. “I am happy to be here in the city of freedom,” he proclaimed, earning rapturous applause from crowds hungry for hope and solidarity.

King’s visit went beyond ceremonial appearances. He crossed into East Berlin, visiting St. Mary’s Church (Marienkirche) and St. Sophia’s Church (Sophienkirche), making a quiet but powerful statement of unity in a divided city. He also met local activists and engaged with students, emphasizing that the fight for civil rights was universal, transcending borders and walls.

Though his stay lasted only a few days, King left an enduring mark on Berlin. Memorials and plaques honor his message, and his speeches continue to echo in a city that once stood at the frontline of freedom and oppression — a place where one voice could inspire hope on both sides of the Wall.

Pet Shop Boys – Berlin’s Synth-Pop Lovers

The Pet Shop Boys have long had a love affair with Berlin. From the late 1980s to the 2010s, the city shaped their sound, aesthetics, and even entire albums. Their Berlin Trilogy—Electric (2013), Super (2016), and Hotspot (2020)—was recorded at the legendary Hansa Studios near Potsdamer Platz, with references to local life, including a lyrical nod to the U1 subway line. Berlin’s energy, freedom, and underground culture inspired their electronic and experimental approach, helping define their career.

Despite living part-time in a Berlin-Mitte apartment, the duo’s visits became sporadic in recent years. Yet Neil Tennant continues to surprise fans: in 2024, he made a private appearance at Arooj Aftab’s concert in Heimathafen Neukölln, praising the singer’s new album Night Reign on Instagram and showing he still follows Berlin’s vibrant music scene closely. Tennant also keeps an eye on Berlin art, reportedly visiting galleries such as Jan Linkersdorff’s in Friedrichshain to explore works by DDR painters like Jürgen Wittdorf.

For the Pet Shop Boys, Berlin is more than a backdrop—it’s a muse. From iconic studio sessions to spontaneous cultural excursions, the city has shaped their sound and sensibility. Even when not performing in massive arenas, they remain deeply connected to Berlin’s music, nightlife, and artistic spirit.

Alfred Hitchcock – Berlin’s Early Master of Suspense

Alfred Hitchcock’s connection to Berlin spans decades, beginning long before his iconic Hollywood career. In 1924, the young British director arrived in Babelsberg, the world’s most advanced film studio at the time, to work on the German-British co-production The Princess and the Violinist. There, he met F.W. Murnau and observed the filming of Der letzte Mann. The German Expressionist approach to lighting, camera angles, and mood left a deep impression, shaping Hitchcock’s signature suspenseful style. During this period, he even began learning German, a skill that would later help him promote his films internationally.

Four decades later, Hitchcock returned to Berlin under very different circumstances. In 1965, he came to research locations for his Cold War thriller Torn Curtain (1966), inspired in part by the dramatic construction of the Berlin Wall in 1961. Although many of the film’s East and West Berlin scenes were shot via rear-projection in Los Angeles, Hitchcock sent his cameramen into the city to capture authentic backgrounds, blending them with studio footage.

Hitchcock’s relationship with Berlin highlights a dual influence: early in his career, the city shaped his aesthetic and cinematic sensibilities, and later, it provided a politically charged backdrop for his storytelling. Whether absorbing the innovation of Babelsberg or referencing the tension of Cold War Berlin, Hitchcock’s ties to the city remained a key part of his creative universe.

Billy Wilder – From Berlin Streets to Hollywood Fame

Long before he became one of Hollywood’s greatest directors, Billy Wilder was a Berliner. Born in 1906 as Samuel Wilder in Sucha, then Austria-Hungary, he grew up in Berlin, where his family moved when he was a child. The city’s mix of intellectual ferment, café culture, and Weimar-era entertainment deeply influenced him. Wilder began his career writing for newspapers and screenplays in late-1920s Berlin, absorbing the sharp wit, satirical edge, and social observation that would later define his films.

During the 1920s and early 1930s, Wilder wrote screenplays for German films and worked in Berlin’s bustling film industry. He mingled with actors, directors, and cabaret performers, learning comedy timing, visual storytelling, and sharp dialogue—skills that would carry him across the Atlantic when the rise of the Nazi regime forced him to flee Germany in 1933.

In Hollywood, Wilder’s Berlin upbringing never left him. The blend of sophistication and cynicism he witnessed in the cafés, theaters, and streets of the city became the foundation of classics like Some Like It Hot, Sunset Boulevard, and The Apartment. Berlin, in Wilder’s eyes, was not just a birthplace—it was a training ground for wit, style, and irreverence.

Anastasia in Berlin – The Royal Mystery That Gripped a City

In 1920, Berlin became the stage for one of the 20th century’s most enduring royal mysteries. A young woman tried to end her life by jumping into the Landwehr Canal, only to be rescued and taken to Dalldorf Mental Hospital in the city’s north. She refused to reveal her identity and became known simply as “Fräulein Unbekannt”.

Soon, whispers began: could this be Anastasia Romanov, the youngest daughter of the last Russian Tsar, who had supposedly survived the Bolshevik execution of her family in 1918? Berliners were captivated. The woman, later known as Anna Anderson, insisted she was the lost princess, and the story spread like wildfire through the city’s newspapers and cafés.

Berlin, at the time, was a magnet for Russian exiles. Charlottenburg alone housed a thriving émigré community nicknamed “Charlottengrad”, where aristocrats, intellectuals, and artists who had fled Bolshevik Russia mingled in salons, cafés, and cultural clubs. Some Russian Berliners embraced Anderson’s claim, seeing a flicker of hope in her presence. Others were skeptical, calling her an impostor.

For years, Anderson remained in Berlin, living quietly yet never abandoning her claim. The city watched as the drama unfolded, a real-life intrigue that seemed almost theatrical. Only decades later, in the 1990s, would DNA testing finally settle the question: Anna Anderson was not Anastasia. She was Franziska Schanzkowska, a Polish factory worker with a troubled past.

Yet Berlin had already imprinted her story onto its history. The city had hosted the drama, the debates, and the fascination. Today, the tale of Anastasia and Anna Anderson remains one of Berlin’s most memorable mysteries—a story of royal intrigue, exile, and the city that could make a stranger a legend.

Maxim Gorky in Berlin – A Voice of Exile and Conscience

In September 1921, Maxim Gorky arrived in Berlin, escaping the turbulence of post-revolutionary Russia. The city became his temporary refuge, a place where he could observe, write, and engage with the exile community while the Bolshevik regime tightened its grip on his homeland.

From Berlin, Gorky learned of the impending Moscow Trial of 12 Socialist Revolutionaries. Outraged, he wrote letters to prominent figures like Anatole France and even to the Soviet vice-premier Alexei Rykov, denouncing the trial as “cynical and public preparation for murder.” His protests drew contempt from the Soviet leadership—Lenin dismissed him as politically spineless, and Trotsky dismissed him as an artist of no consequence.

During his Berlin exile, Gorky continued to write and publish, cementing his reputation as a leading literary voice of the Russian people. The city offered him both safety and distance from the violent politics of Moscow, yet it was also a place of frustration. Berlin’s intellectual and émigré circles were attentive, but the realities of exile—political isolation, uncertainty, and limited means—were ever present.

Berlin was only the beginning of a long period abroad that took him to Italy and later Sorrento, but his months in the German capital were formative. Here, he honed his public voice against the Bolsheviks, cemented his role as a moral and literary conscience, and experienced the precarious freedom that Berlin, at the height of the Weimar Republic, could offer a Russian exile.

Gorky would eventually return to the USSR in the late 1920s, under pressure and with careful negotiations, but Berlin remained a crucial chapter—a city where he dared to speak out against injustice and chart a course through exile with pen and conscience.

Alexei Navalny in Berlin: The Fight for Survival

After falling gravely ill on a flight from Tomsk to Moscow on 20 August 2020, Alexei Navalny was initially hospitalized in Omsk, Russia. Within two days, he was airlifted to Berlin aboard a specially equipped medical plane, arriving at the Charité University Hospital on 22 August. Berlin became the site of his most critical care and ultimately his survival.

At the Charité, Navalny was placed in an induced coma and received mechanical ventilation to stabilize his breathing. The medical team quickly identified symptoms consistent with exposure to a nerve agent, later confirmed by independent laboratories as a Novichok compound. Berlin doctors administered supportive therapy, closely monitoring vital signs and organ function. Intensive care continued for several weeks, during which Navalny’s condition steadily improved under 24-hour medical supervision.

The Charité’s treatment not only saved his life but also allowed international toxicologists and investigative journalists to confirm the use of a chemical weapon. The Berlin hospital became a symbol of medical expertise and rapid response, demonstrating how cutting-edge care in the German capital could counter even the most sophisticated forms of poisoning.

By late September 2020, Navalny had recovered sufficiently to leave the hospital, though he continued rehabilitation in Berlin before eventually returning to Russia. His survival highlighted both the severity of Novichok poisoning and the life-saving capabilities of Berlin’s medical institutions.

Harry Styles in Berlin: Music, Marathons, and Rumors

Harry Styles has been the subject of increasing speculation regarding his presence in Berlin. According to reports, the British pop star has reportedly purchased a flat in the German capital, fueling rumors about his potential relocation. TikTok users have shared sightings of him in Berlin-Mitte, describing him as friendly and generous, even claiming he paid for strangers' taxi fares.

In addition to these rumors, Styles was spotted participating in the 2025 Berlin Marathon on September 21, completing the race in 2 hours, 59 minutes, and 13 seconds under the pseudonym "Sted Sarandos."

While these activities have sparked discussions about his life in Berlin, there is no official confirmation regarding his residence or plans to relocate to the city.

Harry S. Truman: The Bomb Decision Made in Potsdam

In July 1945, U.S. President Harry S. Truman arrived in Potsdam, just outside Berlin, to meet with Joseph Stalin and Winston Churchill (later Clement Attlee) at Cecilienhof Palace. Amid the ruins of war, Truman received a secret message: the atomic bomb had been successfully tested in New Mexico. From this quiet Prussian estate, he made one of the most consequential decisions in human history—authorizing its use against Japan. In his diary, he wrote that the weapon might “save thousands of American lives,” but the moral and historical weight of that order—given in the calm, green surroundings of Potsdam—would forever mark the dawn of the nuclear age.

The Brothers Grimm in Berlin: From Fairytales to Academia

Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, the famed collectors of fairytales, are often associated with enchanted forests and medieval villages—but their final chapter was written in Berlin. After years of exile and scholarship across Germany, the brothers were invited by King Frederick William IV in 1841 to join the newly founded Berlin Academy of Sciences. Here, in the intellectual heart of Prussia, they dedicated themselves not to fairytales, but to their life’s greatest scholarly work: the monumental German Dictionary (Deutsches Wörterbuch).

The Grimms lived in what is now Berlin-Mitte, hosting lively salons filled with students, linguists, and admirers. Though Berlin was far from the romantic countryside of their stories, it was here that the brothers were celebrated as national treasures—honored scholars who gave voice to the German spirit through words and folklore. When Wilhelm died in 1859 and Jacob in 1863, they were laid to rest side by side at St. Matthäus Kirchhof in Schöneberg, their legacy forever entwined with the city that became their intellectual home.

Bruce Springsteen in Weißensee: The Day Rock ’n’ Roll Shook the Wall

On July 19, 1988, Bruce Springsteen made history in East Berlin. In a dusty field near Weißensee, “The Boss” performed before an estimated 160,000 to 300,000 people—the largest rock concert ever held in the GDR. Officially, the socialist government had invited him as part of its youth festival, hoping to appease a restless generation with a taste of Western culture. But what unfolded was far more powerful than propaganda.

Springsteen, dressed in denim and sweat, spoke to the crowd in halting German: “Ich bin nicht hier für oder gegen irgendeine Regierung. Ich bin hier, um Rock’n’Roll für euch zu spielen – in der Hoffnung, dass eines Tages alle Barrieren abgebaut werden.” (“I’m not here for or against any government. I’ve come to play rock ’n’ roll for you—in the hope that one day all barriers will be torn down.”)

Those words, broadcast on state TV, struck deep. For many East Germans, it was their first taste of freedom—of what unfiltered expression could feel like. His four-hour show, complete with a rousing cover of Bob Dylan’s “Chimes of Freedom,” became more than just a concert. It was a cultural earthquake that rippled through the Iron Curtain—an unforgettable night when the sound of rock ’n’ roll foreshadowed the fall of the Wall.

Michael Jackson and the Stasi: Pop at the Wall

Michael Jackson actually has a Stasi file – and the story behind it is deeply musical. It all began in the 1980s when West Berlin hosted open-air concerts, like Barclay James Harvest’s in front of the Reichstag, right by the Berlin Wall. East Berlin youths flocked to the shows, prompting Stasi and Volkspolizei interventions, and the East German leadership soon recognized the disruptive potential of pop music. Acts like Genesis, David Bowie, and the Eurythmics followed – until in 1988, Michael Jackson, the world’s biggest pop star, arrived. The FDJ organized a counter-concert at the Weißensee Velodrome with Heinz-Rudolf Kunze and Bryan Adams to keep teenagers away from the Wall.

Still, thousands of fans wanted to see Jackson from the East side, and the Stasi deployed undercover agents to prevent trouble. Michael himself never actually crossed into East Berlin – the famous photo in his Stasi file shows only a lookalike. The file mostly tracked his influence on East German youth. Years later, in 2002, Jackson returned to Berlin and famously dangled his nine-month-old son Prince Michael II from the Adlon Hotel window – this time without a Stasi record, but with the same iconic pop presence that had mesmerized the city decades earlier.

James Bond at Checkpoint Charlie: Octopussy in Berlin

Berlin has always been a cinematic playground, and in 1983, it hosted one of the most memorable James Bond sequences ever filmed: Octopussy. The iconic East-West spy thriller used the city – and especially Checkpoint Charlie – as a key location, showcasing the tensions of the Cold War. Bond, played by Roger Moore, maneuvers through the checkpoint, slipping between East and West Berlin in a high-stakes chase that mixes espionage, intrigue, and pure 007 style.

The scene not only dramatized the real-life political division of the city but also brought international attention to Berlin’s unique geography. East German authorities closely monitored the filming, and the production had to coordinate with both sides to capture the tense atmosphere of the border. Today, Bond’s daring antics at Checkpoint Charlie remain a beloved pop-culture snapshot of Berlin during the Cold War, immortalizing the city as a playground for spies, stunts, and cinematic spectacle.

Join me on my Cold War Tour of Berlin for more Wall related stories!

Beethoven in Berlin: The King’s Alleged Son

In the summer of 1796, Ludwig van Beethoven spent two months in Berlin, performing at noble houses and dazzling audiences with his improvisations—so much so that listeners sometimes wept openly, much to his embarrassment. The King of Prussia was sufficiently impressed to offer him a court position, which Beethoven declined, reportedly exclaiming that living among such “spoiled children” was unbearable.

Rumors, which persisted for decades, suggested that Beethoven was an illegitimate son of King Friedrich Wilhelm II—a myth partly fueled by his royal attentions and visits to Potsdam. During his stay, Beethoven met influential musicians like Friedrich Heinrich Himmel and the Duport brothers, and mingled with Berlin’s cultured circles, leaving the city with a mixture of admiration, amusement, and the peculiar notoriety of a royal connection that may have only existed in whispers.

Gustave Eiffel’s Hidden Masterpiece in Berlin

When one thinks of Gustave Eiffel, the iconic Parisian tower immediately comes to mind. Few know, however, that Berlin harbors a subtle testament to his genius: a stunning iron spiral staircase inside the residential building at Joseph-Haydn-Straße 1 in the Hansaviertel. Built between 1886 and 1887 by Berlin architects Hermann Ende and Wilhelm Böckmann, the building survived the widespread destruction of World War II almost intact, preserving the freestanding 20-meter-high staircase. Its delicate yet robust ironwork, bathed in natural light from an overhead skylight, bears the unmistakable signature of Eiffel’s engineering style—combining industrial strength with aesthetic elegance reminiscent of both the Eiffel Tower and the internal framework of the Statue of Liberty. While Eiffel’s direct involvement is debated, the staircase is either designed under his guidance or heavily inspired by his principles. Today, the building houses creatives and serves as a secret Berlin gem, even appearing in productions like Babylon Berlin, quietly celebrating Eiffel’s enduring, if little-known, influence on the city’s architectural heritage.

Edvard Munch in Berlin: The Munch Affair and the Birth of the Frieze of Life

In 1892, Edvard Munch arrived in Berlin, invited by Adelsteen Normann and the Union of Berlin Artists to exhibit his works in the society’s first solo show. The exhibition, however, provoked outrage among critics and audiences alike and closed after just one week—a scandal soon dubbed The Munch Affair. Munch, far from dismayed, relished the commotion, writing that he had “never had such an amusing time—it’s incredible that something as innocent as painting should have created such a stir.”

During his four-year Berlin stay, Munch became part of an international circle of writers and artists, including August Strindberg and Danish painter Holger Drachmann, with whom he frequented the famous cabaret Zum schwarzen Ferkel. In the city, he sketched and developed the ideas that would become his monumental Frieze of Life, exploring themes of love, death, and existential angst. His style evolved here, embracing drips of diluted paint, simplified forms, shallow pictorial space, and symbolic, theatrical figures that expressed psychological states rather than literal realism. Paintings like Melancholy (1891) and At the Deathbed (1895) reveal how Berlin shaped Munch’s mature vision: intense emotion rendered with symbolic color, monumental figures, and a pioneering visual language that would influence generations of artists.

Napoleon in Berlin and Potsdam, October 1806

In late October 1806, following the twin victories at Jena and Auerstedt, Napoleon Bonaparte entered Berlin in a display of military pageantry and psychological theatre. According to the Bulletins de la Grande Armée, he arrived on 27 October with his marshals, imperial guards, and cavalry in perfect autumn weather. Crowds lined the streets, hats were thrown, and cries of Vive l’Empereur! filled the air, as the emperor rode through Charlottenburg Avenue to the palace, where city officials presented him the keys of Berlin. Eyewitnesses—including French soldiers, Captain Coignet, and even Stendhal—describe a city transformed from quiet and deserted to a lively, Paris-like spectacle over the course of a few days.

Napoleon also spent time in nearby Potsdam, visiting the New Palace and Sanssouci. He inspected Frederick the Great’s rooms and tomb, deliberately portraying a connection with the Prussian king to symbolically appropriate his legacy for France. Bulletins and memoirs stress Napoleon’s propaganda purpose: to demonstrate French superiority over the Prussian monarchy, subtly blame Queen Louise for pushing Frederick Wilhelm III. toward war, and signal his triumph over Russia and its allies. He had his troops review in front of Frederick’s monuments, collecting insignia, swords, and banners for transfer to Paris, underlining his domination while presenting himself as respectful of Prussia’s former glory.

The combination of ceremonial precision, political messaging, and urban spectacle in Berlin and Potsdam highlights Napoleon’s mastery not only as a general but as a shaper of public perception, turning the city into both a stage and a testament to his strategic genius.

Tchaikovsky in Berlin – The Russian Soul in the Prussian Capital

When Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky visited Berlin, he entered a city both imperial and intimate — a capital humming with orchestras, salons, and the artistic restlessness of late 19th-century Europe. Between 1861 and 1893, the Russian composer passed through Berlin more than twenty times, often en route to Paris or Italy, but increasingly drawn by the city’s thriving musical life and its connection to the wider European stage.

Berlin first met Tchaikovsky as a young man of 21, travelling abroad for the first time. Later, the Tiergarten zoo made a haunting impression on him when he witnessed a boa constrictor devour a live rabbit — a moment that mirrored the fragile boundary between beauty and horror that would later define his music. By the 1880s, however, Tchaikovsky’s Berlin was not a place of shock, but of triumph. The Philharmonie became his stage, and the Hotel Saint Petersburg his home away from home.

In 1888, he conducted the Berlin Philharmonic in a concert of his own works, including Romeo and Juliet, the Piano Concerto No. 1, and the 1812 Overture. The audience — aristocrats, critics, and curious Berliners — responded with rare warmth to the Russian guest. Tchaikovsky dined with Edvard Grieg and Hugo Wolf, met the young Richard Strauss, and rekindled his friendship with the great soprano Désirée Artôt-Padilla, his onetime love. A year later, he returned to conduct again, this time with Francesca da Rimini and the Serenade for Strings, pieces steeped in the same emotional turbulence that captivated Berlin’s Romantic generation.

Berlin also gave Tchaikovsky space for reflection. In 1884, he composed his Elegy for String Orchestra here — music that seems to echo the city’s mixture of grandeur and melancholy. Between engagements, he would stroll Unter den Linden or through the Tiergarten, a solitary figure caught between the rigors of fame and the tenderness of his art.

When Tchaikovsky last passed through Berlin in May 1893, a few months before his death, it was just an overnight stop — yet his music had already become part of the city’s cultural heartbeat. From the Philharmonie to the Staatsoper, his symphonies, ballets, and overtures would continue to resound in the Prussian capital long after the composer himself had vanished from its streets.

Berlin remembers him not just as a visitor, but as a kindred spirit: a Romantic whose music, like the city itself, balances discipline with passion, structure with soul.

Francisco Largo Caballero – From Madrid’s Prime Minister to Prisoner in Berlin’s Sachsenhausen

Francisco Largo Caballero (1869–1946), former Prime Minister of Spain and leader of the Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party (PSOE), has an unexpected yet powerful connection to Berlin through one of its darkest sites of memory — the Sachsenhausen concentration camp. After the defeat of the Spanish Republic in the Civil War, Largo Caballero fled into exile in France. When Nazi Germany occupied the country in 1940, he was arrested by the Gestapo and deported to Sachsenhausen, just north of Berlin. There, among thousands of political prisoners from across Europe, the once–head of a democratic government was reduced to a number behind barbed wire. His imprisonment in Sachsenhausen stands as a stark reminder of how fascism crushed the hopes of the interwar generation across borders — from Madrid to Berlin. After the camp’s liberation, Largo Caballero was freed and spent his final years in exile in Paris, where he died in 1946. Today, his story forms part of the broader European struggle for democracy and resistance that sites like Sachsenhausen continue to commemorate.

The Assassin and the Pasha – A Fatal Encounter in Charlottenburg

On a quiet morning in Berlin’s Charlottenburg district, history and vengeance collided on Hardenbergstraße. It was here, on March 15, 1921, that Mehmed Talât Pasha, the former Grand Vizier of the Ottoman Empire and one of the architects of the Armenian genocide, was shot dead by Soghomon Tehlirian, a young Armenian survivor who had lost nearly his entire family to the atrocities of 1915.

Both men had come to Berlin as exiles — Talât living under an assumed name after fleeing Turkey, Tehlirian posing as a student while tracking his target. For months he shadowed the Pasha’s every step, waiting for the moment when he could confront the man responsible for the death of his mother, brothers, and countless others. That moment came in broad daylight: a single shot to the neck, fired on a Berlin street lined with cafés and shops, just a few steps from today’s Zoologischer Garten station.

The assassination shook the Weimar capital. The ensuing trial, held in June 1921, was as much about justice as it was about guilt. Tehlirian admitted to the killing but claimed his conscience was clear. After emotional testimony recounting the horrors of the genocide, a German jury found him not guilty. Newspapers across Europe debated the verdict, which exposed the unpunished crimes of the Ottoman regime to a world still reeling from the First World War.

A century later, the story still resonates in Berlin — a city that has seen both perpetrators and avengers pass through its streets. The memory of Talaat and Tehlirian lingers as a stark reminder of how far-reaching the echoes of violence and justice can be — even in exile, even on a quiet Berlin morning.

Churchill in Berlin: The Potsdam Conference, 1945

Winston Churchill arrived near Berlin in July 1945 to participate in the Potsdam Conference, held at the Cecilienhof Palace in Potsdam, just outside the devastated German capital. The conference brought together the Allied leaders—Churchill (soon replaced by Clement Attlee after the UK election), U.S. President Harry S. Truman, and Soviet Premier Joseph Stalin—to decide the postwar order and negotiate terms for Germany’s surrender and reconstruction.

Although Berlin itself lay in ruins from relentless Allied bombings, the city symbolized both the defeat of Nazi Germany and the emerging tensions between the Allies. Churchill toured parts of the surrounding region and witnessed firsthand the scale of destruction, the displacement of millions, and the early signs of Soviet influence in Eastern Germany. These impressions reinforced his later warnings about the “Iron Curtain” descending across Europe.

The Potsdam Conference marked one of Churchill’s last meetings with Stalin before the onset of the Cold War. While it was not a ceremonial visit to Berlin, the proximity of the devastated city provided Churchill with a visceral understanding of the consequences of total war and shaped his postwar strategy toward Germany and the Soviet Union.

Stalin at Babelsberg: Paranoia in Potsdam

During the Potsdam Conference of July 1945, Joseph Stalin stayed in Babelsberg, in a suburban villa near Potsdam, while meeting with Churchill (later Attlee) and Truman to discuss the postwar order in Europe. Though he remained in the same house for the duration of the conference, Stalin’s well-documented fear of assassination meant that he never slept in the same room twice. His bed was systematically moved to different rooms every night, and aides frequently rearranged his personal quarters to keep him unpredictable and secure.

This ritual reflected Stalin’s deep-seated paranoia, even in an environment heavily guarded by the Red Army. While the villa itself provided comfort and security, Stalin’s constant vigilance highlighted the personal anxieties of a man wielding immense power yet distrusting everyone around him—including allies. The Potsdam Conference thus became not only a historic diplomatic moment but also a rare glimpse into the personal habits of a leader obsessed with survival.

Peter the Great in Berlin: Monbijou and the Amber Room

Peter the Great visited Berlin twice during his travels to Western Europe, in 1711–1713 and again in 1716–1717, as part of his mission to modernize Russia by studying science, military strategy, and culture abroad. During his 1716 visit, he was hosted by King Frederick William I of Prussia and his wife, staying in the Monbijou villa on the outskirts of the city. The villa was carefully prepared for him, with fragile items removed, reflecting Peter’s well-known disregard for delicate objects.

The Russian tsar was officially received by the Prussian monarchs upon arrival by water, with Catherine I personally helped ashore by the King. In Berlin, Peter explored the city’s cultural treasures, including coin collections and antiques, showing particular interest in statues and scientific instruments. In a remarkable gesture of diplomacy and admiration, the King gifted Peter the Amber Room, one of Prussia’s most treasured interiors. The room was later transported to Russia and installed in the Catherine Palace near Saint Petersburg, symbolizing the cultural exchange and growing influence of Western Europe on Peter’s Russia.

Peter’s Berlin visits illustrate not only his curiosity and energy but also the emerging connections between Russian and Prussian courts in the early 18th century, a period when diplomacy and personal engagement went hand in hand with cultural and scientific advancement.

Hans Christian Andersen in Berlin: Seven Visits that Shaped a Legend

Hans Christian Andersen, the celebrated Danish fairy-tale author, visited Berlin seven times over several decades, and each visit left a lasting mark on his career and international reputation. His first arrival on June 11, 1831, marked the beginning of a relationship with the Prussian capital that would help launch him onto the world stage.

During his stays, Andersen met prominent figures of the literary and cultural world, including Ludwig Tieck, the Brothers Grimm, and King Friedrich Wilhelm IV. These encounters, along with the publication of his poems and a review by Adelbert von Chamisso, were instrumental in introducing Andersen’s work to audiences beyond Denmark.

Berlin also offered Andersen a space to observe and reflect on European culture, shaping his writing with its intellectual and artistic vibrancy. As noted by Heinz Barüske in his book Hans Christian Andersen in Berlin, the author’s visits not only traced Andersen’s personal footsteps but also highlight a unique German-Danish cultural exchange. Through these relatively brief but significant visits, Berlin played a key role in helping Andersen emerge as a globally renowned literary figure.

Franz Kafka in Berlin: His Final Months and Lasting Traces

Franz Kafka spent the last year of his life, starting in September 1923, in Berlin, living in the leafy suburbs of Steglitz and Zehlendorf. Together with his partner Dora Diamant, he found a measure of happiness and peace despite modest circumstances. In Steglitz, he initially lived on Grunewaldstraße and later moved to Heidestraße in Zehlendorf, which today is part of Busseallee. The extreme conditions of the hyperinflation made daily life challenging: Kafka often read newspapers at public billboards (Litfaßsäulen) because he could not afford to buy them.

Before World War I, Kafka had already visited Berlin several times, notably in 1910 and 1912. On these trips, he stayed in hotels like the Askanischer Hof and met friends such as Felice Bauer and artists and writers including Else Lasker-Schüler at the famous Café Josty. For Kafka, Berlin was a city of encounters, inspiration, and introspection.

Ai Weiwei in Berlin: Art, Exile, and International Work

After facing arrest and travel restrictions in China in 2011, Ai Weiwei relocated to Berlin following the return of his passport in 2015. There, he established a large studio in a former brewery, which became both his home and the hub for his international artistic projects. The Berlin studio allowed Ai to continue his boundary-pushing work in sculpture, installation, and social commentary while connecting with the European art scene.

During his time in Berlin, Ai engaged with a global audience, hosting exhibitions, collaborating on projects, and maintaining a strong presence in both contemporary art and human rights activism. However, in 2019, he announced he would leave Berlin, citing limitations in cultural openness, and subsequently moved to Cambridge, England.

As of 2023, Ai resides in Montemor-o-Novo, Portugal, while still keeping a studio in Berlin and a base in Cambridge, where his son attends school. Despite relocating, Berlin remains a significant chapter in his story of artistic resilience, political defiance, and international influence.

Soong Ching-ling in Berlin: Widow of a Revolutionary in Exile

Soong Ching-ling (1893–1981) was the widow of Sun Yat-sen, the founding father of modern China, and a prominent political figure in her own right. Revered as the “Mother of Modern China,” she played a pivotal role in Chinese politics, championing social welfare, women’s rights, and later aligning with the Chinese Communist Party while maintaining the legacy of her husband. Her life combined personal tragedy, political courage, and international engagement, making her one of the most respected figures of 20th-century China.

From 1928 to 1931, Soong Ching-ling spent extended periods in Berlin as part of her travels and political work. She arrived on 1 May 1928, accompanied by the leftist Kuomintang leader Deng Yanda and assisted by Zhang Ke from Moscow Sun Yat-sen University.

During her time in Berlin, Ching-ling observed the social and economic turmoil of Weimar Germany, including widespread unemployment and hyperinflation. She avoided the official KMT representatives, instead engaging with European labor movements and maintaining contacts with major Communist organizations, even as the Nazi influence began rising.

Intermittently, she traveled back to China to handle personal and political matters, most notably attending Sun Yat-sen’s funeral in 1929, before returning to Berlin in mid-November of that year. Her stay ended in July 1931, when she returned to China upon learning of her mother’s illness, navigating the tension between personal duty and political caution.

Berlin offered Ching-ling a unique perspective on European politics and social unrest, providing both a stage for her political observation and a temporary home in exile, all while she carried forward the revolutionary vision of her late husband.

Anna May Wong in Berlin

Anna May Wong (1905–1961) was a pioneering Chinese American actress and the first Asian American film star in Hollywood. Born Wong Liu Tsong in Los Angeles, she began acting at 14 and appeared in over 60 films, including The Toll of the Sea (1922) and The Thief of Bagdad (1924). Despite her talent, she faced racial barriers in Hollywood, often limited to stereotypical roles due to miscegenation laws and yellowface casting. Frustrated with these constraints, Wong moved to Berlin in April 1928, where she found more creative freedom, starring in films such as Piccadilly (1929) and Hai-Tang (1930) and performing in theater and operettas. Her time in Berlin allowed her to develop her craft and gain international recognition, marking a pivotal period in her career. Wong’s legacy continues to influence entertainers worldwide; in 2022, she became the first Asian American featured on U.S. currency as part of the American Women Quarters Program, honoring her contributions to film and her advocacy for better representation of Asian Americans in Hollywood.

Echoes Through the City

From the ballrooms of the Prussian court to smoky cabarets, concert halls, and Cold War stages, Berlin has been a crossroads where the world’s greats paused, performed, or found themselves transformed. Some came to study, others to rebel, some to heal — and all left traces that still hum beneath the city’s surface. Walk its streets today, and you can still feel their echoes: in the trembling strings of a concert, the graffiti on a wall, the quiet dignity of a restored façade. Berlin remembers them all — not as statues, but as living stories woven into its restless rhythm.