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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.

R ome, autumn 1961: the XVII Olympic Games have been over for a few months, of petrol and rubbish and dull hotel façades. A school class on a graduation trip,
Federico Fellini’s La Dolce Vita is showing in all the city’s cinemas, he himself they swarmed around the stalls, comparing the price and quality of the imitation
is filming his Boccaccio ‘70 in the Mussolini EUR district of Rome, film stars such as luxury brands. Only one pupil was looking for other things. And suddenly, among all
Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton are staying in Cinecittà for “antique” film epics the rubbish, he spotted something: a drawing. Ink, washed, on heavy deckle-edged
and then deliberately having their photos taken “secretly” in chic bars in Trastevere. paper. The sketch of an altar, undoubtedly baroque, genuine, early Roman Baroque.
The term paparazzo was invented in Rome in those days. And, somewhat less noti- “Costa 70,000 lire,” said the young woman at the market stall, bored. The student
ced, a young literature scholarship holder at the Villa Massimo Academy spends the did the maths: 70,000 lire, that’s 70 DM. His parents had given him 200 marks for
last days of his scholarship between the Tiber and the Palatine. His fellow students the week-long trip. That wouldn’t be enough. “Alora?” The market woman pressed.
treated themselves to sports cars, bespoke suits and Rolex wristwatches with their “No money... Non ho soldi,” said the student and trotted back to his classmates,
scholarship money, but he instead invited his siblings to Rome and did not set off heavily laden with fake Lacoste jumpers. A major German city, autumn 2022: you
with the remaining lire to buy something that would remind him of Rome, the Città would never have guessed he lived here, between massive East German prefabrica-
th
Eterna and the year he had spent there. But he would not really have done that ted buildings and a six-lane city-centre road. He lives on the 14 floor. The famous
either, had not wanted to do so, not planned for it. His studio neighbour was Toni scriptwriter whose crime films for television are legendary. I was familiar with these
Stadler, the famous sculptor and guest of honour at the Academy. Day after day, night prefabricated flats with their strange, lightless, nested floor plans, but here it was
after night, Stadler moulded his figures out of clay. They were, so to speak, sketches different. He opened the low flat door with a smile, behind it was just ONE room,
of ideas for later, more voluminous versions in all the partition walls had been removed, the
stone or bronze. The young literature scholar entire high-rise floor was his flat. He gave me
in front of him. Which the young scholar did as Foto: Benjamin Reding von Tusche-Vorzeichnung zu Kuperfstich des holländischen Kupferstechers Jan van de Velde II aus 1620.
often peeked into the studio of his respected a friendly tour and showed me what we had
neighbour, admired, marvelled at and loved arranged to see: his collection of expressioni-
his work, his sculptural art. One night, in an stic and New-Objectivism art, one of the best
act of creative desperation, beset by the super- private collections in Germany. Kirchner, Dix,
art of his Roman colleagues, from Bernini to Birkle, Feininger, Schlemmer and more. He told
Buonarroti, Toni Stadler smashed all the works us about his first art acquisitions, when he was
he had created in Rome up to that point and still an inexperienced law student in Munich.
threw them out of the studio at night in a holy He only ever bought things that impressed him
rage. They lay there for days until the young and that he “could also afford”, he added with
literature scholar took pity on them, packed a grin, never buying anything speculatively.
up the remains and put them up in his room. Now, however, he knew every auction result,
Full of joy at having saved these heads, bodies, every top price, every player on the art market
clay hands, arms and legs – which were still better than a crime-film detective knows a film
beautiful even in their desolate state, indeed corpse. And I, without an art collection, without
more powerful, more honest, perhaps even Dix and Kirchner, told him about the young Villa
more beautiful than all the finished, completed Massimo scholarship holder, my father, and his
“dolls”. The joy was short-lived. Professor Stad- “Beatrice” and about the final-year student
ler saw the remains, was angry and forced the who couldn’t afford a baroque altar sketch in
young scholarship holder to smash the debris Rome and has regretted not having bought the
piece ever since. It would have been better if he
ordered. But one cannot and should not leave Rome without art. So, the scholarship had starved. And yes, I was the pupil. Then the scriptwriter suddenly stood up and,
holder set off with the last of his lire. He did not visit the noble galleries, the exclusive perhaps it was meant as a consolation, pointed to a painting by a painter I didn’t
art dealers, the high, cool rooms on the Via Veneto. He looked in the junk shops, in know, prominently placed behind his desk, and exclaimed: “I painted that. The only
the backyard sheds, in the warehouses with their estates and dusty furniture. And he thing better than collecting art is making it yourself!” Prague, November 2023: An
found paintings stacked into metre-high towers, pulled out a picture here and there insignificant antiquarian bookshop on the outskirts of the city. Architectural books in
as far as the statics would allow, let it sink in and then, after a few attempts and tru- the shop window: Art Deco, Neues Bauen, 1920s and 1930s. Vintage books, yellowed,
sting his own intuition, decided on a single one. A painting that he would later jokin- creased, gracefully worn. And behind them, in a cheap frame, a drawing: a gnarled,
gly say was the original, but only a copy hangs in the National Museum, the Palazzo shady tree, flanked on the left and on the right by two ancient ruins overgrown with
Barberini: the portrait of Beatrice Cenci, the young, innocent-guilty murderess, visited weeds and, in the background, in the harsh light so characteristic of the south, a
and painted around 1599 by Guido Reni. On the express train back to Germany, the church with a mighty dome. It could be St Peter’s Basilica, it could be Rome, it could
scholarship holder took the painting with him, wedged upright between his knees. be an original ink drawing from around 1600! I entered the shop and spoke to the
Rome, 35 years later: cheap Asian copies of Esprit, Lacoste, Adidas – trousers, jackets, antiquarian bookseller, an older, grumpy gentleman. It would cost a week’s stay in
sweatshirts, for a few lire more or less, depending on the stall selling them. One of Prague. I did the maths, I hesitated, I bought the drawing. And laughed like a child as
those tourist flea markets on the edge of the city centre, between car parks smelling I trudged through the rain and snow back to the railway station.

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