Urban Field Trip to the Wende Museum

On a cold and rainy Saturday this past week, I found myself trekking through puddles and the treacherous streets of Pasadena. Naturally, I was dismayed by the fact I had to be there. On any other day perhaps I would have been excited by the excursion that awaited me, but with damp boots, wet hair, and cold, clammy hands I was anything but. As we trudged onto the subway I began to feel excited.

In the subway car, there seems to always be a unique mix of people. From hipster parents with a stroller and a baby, to a stranger who chose to rub Vaseline on their feet in front of the captive audience, to the art student focused only on his sketchbook the mixing pot of people was far beyond what I experienced in my everyday life. Scenes of LA rushed through the windows. Chinatown, La Brea, and Historic Broadway confronted me with a truth I had ignored. Despite being a Los Angeles "native" there was much of the city I had not seen.

After we finally reached the Culver City stop and walked through rain and puddles to the Wende Museum, I was relieved to finally be inside. The Wende Museum is unique. On their website, they describe it as an "art museum, cultural center, and archive of the Cold War that preserves history and brings it to life through exhibitions, scholarship, education, and community engagement," but I think it is much more.

As we stepped inside we were faced with cement walls, and amidst them a large bust of a vandalized Lenin statue. His face and shoulders are covered in turquoise and hot pink paint. In his blank stare, museumgoers are beckoned to continue through the halls.

In the first column, there was an extensive collection of books and cold-war memorabilia. From little plates to books and diaries, to children's toys, the carefully curated selection provided us the ability to immerse ourselves into the lives of that era. I was amazed if not shocked by the sheer range of products that were created in commemoration or support of the war. From China to Germany to Russia, it was clear that the war had infused every part of civilian life.

As we continued on we were faced with other various items and trinkets. Gifts that were passed between the Soviet Union and its allies adorned the wall and slowly progressed to a small installation that documented the various ways facial recognition was taught to those who surveilled the Berlin Wall. I remember most a mother-of-pearl ship, that was gifted from the Philippines to the Soviet Union, and the facial recognition comparison photographs. In most of these split pictures, the individuals appear to be the same person, and yet they are not. It was enlightening to see the extent to which people tried to escape. The disguises, I thought, showed the true ingenuity of humans to escape their circumstances.

Finally, in the middle area of the museum, there were various pieces of art. I saw charcoal drawings and many paintings depicting the pain people faced during World War II and the Cold War. In particular, one painting of a mental asylum grabbed my attention. The small individuals in the painting seem to stare right at you - the desperation and craze in their eyes are unsettling.

I would encourage anyone interested in history to visit the museum. Though it is a bit out of the way, it was incredibly unique and I learned so much. It's layout and curation create an immersive experience for viewers and although I was initially skeptical, I am thankful that Poly provided this opportunity for me and my fellow Berlin travelers.