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Jeden Monat nähern sich unsere Kolumnisten, die Berliner Filmemacher Dominik und Benjamin Reding, dem jeweiligen Heftthema
auf ihre ganz eigene Art und Weise. Geboren wurden die Zwillinge am 3. Ja nuar 1969 in Dortmund. Während Dominik Architektur
in Aachen und Film in Hamburg studierte, absolvierte Benjamin ein Schauspielstudium in Stuttgart. 1997 begann die Arbeit an ihrem
ersten gemeinsamen Kinofilm „Oi! Warning“. Seitdem arbeiten sie für Fernseh- und Kinofilmprojekte zusammen.
Each month our columnists, Berlin-based filmmakers Dominik and Benjamin Reding, approach the respective issue-specific theme
in their very personal way. The twins were born on January 3, 1969 in Dortmund. Whilst Dominik studied architecture in Aachen
and film in Hamburg, Benjamin graduated in acting studies in Stuttgart. They started working on their first joint motion picture “Oi!
Warning“ in 1997. Since then they have tightly collaborated for TV and cinema film projects.

T he work of a scaffolder is a worthy profession. Although scaffolders drink a lot of answer: “In a shop for sportswear and in a motorcycle store.” “Super!” I called out,
more than happy, like a primary-school teacher commenting the learning success of her
beer, lift weights in the muscle factory, are heavily tattooed and have sometimes
spent time in prison, there would be no architecture without them with the exception of first graders. “And what did they look like?” He repeated my question as if I had asked
a few gazebos and doghouses. Scaffolders are important, scaffolders are needed. My whether the earth was a disc. “Well, how was the lighting, which was the colour of the
mate Lukas is a scaffolder. And he certainly drinks plenty of beer and regularly works walls, the ceilings, the floors? Which materials were used, where stood the shelves,
out in the muscle factory and has does have tattoos and he also spent time in prison where the cash register, where the special offers?” He tensely held his breath, like an
but that is another story. Lukas is an honourable man. And he likes to read. What kind ice princess before the double loop jump, like a goal keeper before the penalty
of books exactly, he doesn’t say. But he says he likes to read. That is good, it pleases me, shootout. He furrowed his brow and appeared to look in the most remote regions of
a scaffolder who likes to read. I’ve kept that in mind. And then, when the third volume his brain for fragments of remembering the store furnishing. He expelled all the air at
of our columns in the AIT journal was published, I presented him, the reading scaffolder, once, tshhhhh, it sounded like the hissing when you are opening a Cola bottle with
with this third volume of columns “Pretty Public”. It was late summer, it was still warm, overpressure. “Well, the things I wanted were there.” Now he smiled, somehow feeling
he came from work, did a handstand in the hallway to prove his strength, sat down on finally saved, relieved, freed. “But it cannot really be that nothing was designed there?
the balcony, smoked a cigarette, drank a beer, took up the book, looked at it, the outside, Lights, colours, forms, materials, these are found everywhere after all, one does notice
the inside. “Ah, photographs”, he said and pocketed it. Summer has long been history, them?” His eyes became slits, his gaze became dark. It was time to change the subject:
snow is blowing through the streets, Lukas is standing on other scaffolds, working at “Another beer?” He tensed his muscles as if he had to make sure they were still func-
other construction sites and I on other projects. tioning after such a conversation and when
Ring ring ring! The doorbell rang one afternoon. they bulged like always, he smiled contentedly,
Lukas dropped in. The first time again since the got up and left. “Have to get going again tomor-
summer. He sat down, stretched out, drank a row at six, bitch of suspended scaffolding, old
beer, smoked a hand-rolled cigarette, let the lit- building with bays, quite complicated.
tle clouds of smoke rise into the air, puff, puff, Awesome work, rocks.”
puff – and I waited and looked and waited and The next day I set out, almost secretly, like on
in the end did ask, cautiously but hopefully: an inspection patrol. He was mistaken, the
“So, did you like it?” “The book?” “Yes, the scaffolder, certainly, he overlooked all the
book!” Lukas gave it some thought, hesitated. beautiful things, the design, the concept, the
“Well, one does actually read the stories right art. Too rough, too blind for them. The first
to the end. That’s what I did as well.” He nod- store was the one for martial-arts clothing.
ded and looked at me like a tomcat expecting Dark-grey felt carpeting, woodchip wallpaper, a
to be appreciatively petted after he correctly few teen-room lamps from the hardware store
used the cat toilet. “It is certainly something dif- below the ceiling, discarded department-store
ferent from what I usually read … a lot of archi- shelves packed with boxing gloves, trainers, T-
tecture in it.” Then there was silence, he rolled shirts. On the walls posters of kickboxing fights,
the next cigarette, checked his work clothes, the Foto: Benjamin Reding (Mit Dank an Detlev Louis, Berlin) photos of kickboxers and a poster with Bruce
label of the beer bottle, the petrol level in his Lee. The store was small and well frequented.
lighter, the scratches in the parquet floor. Serious, young men who concentrated on
“Needs to be sanded.” What on earth had the pulling boxing gloves and bandages from the
scaffolder been hoping for without whom there shelves and briefly and precisely asked for
would be no banks, no administration build- sizes, brands, origin and workmanship. Then
ings, no schools and offices, no shopping centres and town halls, no museums and the- they went to the cash desk (a rectangle of laminated panels) and paid. And I drove on,
atres, no indoor pools and stadiums, no architecture at all and none either about which down the arterial road to the motorcycle shop. There were numerous windows but they
AIT or I in my essays could write? Reports on the latest scaffolding connectors? On the were not designed, they were sealed. Because behind them stood supermarket shelves
Japanese tattoos he had? The Enduro motorcycles he loved to ride? The types of beer he on which motorcycle helmets, motorcycle oils, motorcycle jackets were orderly arranged.
usually drank? The kickboxing he was good at? Or about the “sweet ladies” (he always And yes, all this really looked like a supermarket: grey linoleum floor, cold neon light
talked about “sweet ladies”) he liked? I had to ask him: “What should I write about in and sterile white walls. But a supermarket dating from 1977! In the end, I bought some-
my next column?” He looked at me, with discomfort, so we stayed with the book as the thing, didn’t know what else I could really do, a tin of leather grease, and I thought full
awkward topic. “The next issue of the AIT journal will be about retail, hence about of shame: man, the scaffolder has told the truth.
stores, selling, shop design.” “Ah …”, he scratched his stubble, then he grunted. It sound- Today, he came back for a visit, after work, his right hand was swollen. “Sprained”, he
ed like “hmmm” or “hrrr” or “Oh no, don’t ask me I just want to relax and have an after- said and sat down, smoked his cigarette and drank his beer. A book was peeping out of
work beer and not have to say anything about such weird things as books, columns, his overall. It looked greasy, it looked read. “Pretty Public”, my book. “So, did you give
store design and architecture.” “What did you buy, lately?” I tried the innocent approach. some thought to what I should write about in my next column?” “About a scaffolder. And
And indeed, there was a response, even a quick and precise one: “Kickboxing sweat- not about so much architecture.” He smiled and gave a chummy blow to my chest; I
pants and a motorcycle helmet.” And where did you buy this?” Again a quick, precise keeled over. “Promised”, I said.

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