The Elbphilharmonie and Me
The building you see above is called The Elbphilharmonie. It’s one of the most prominent landmarks in Hamburg, Germany, a city I lived in for a short time and recently revisited. “Elphi,” as it’s called locally, is an architectural, artistic, and technological marvel inside and out.
Google it, and you’ll see stunning images from every angle at any time of day. I love how it appears to adapt to its surroundings depending on where it’s viewed from and the weather at the time.
Elphi is a symbol of Hamburg’s past, present, and future. It stands for the city’s self-image of “building on tradition to create something new, as well as for the many contrasts that coincide within the city and make up its character.”
It is a literal example of this philosophy, as the brick base is a repurposed warehouse upon which a panoramic public terrace, multiple music halls, restaurants, bars, apartments, and a hotel sit.
When I lived in Hamburg, I constantly reflected on the beauty of this building and the idea it represents, as well as the mix of history and newness all across the city.
Over its history, Hamburg has often found itself rebuilding after setbacks or outright disasters such as the Great Fire of 1842, Operation Gomorrah, and the Great Flood of 1962. This city inspires me to embrace my own setbacks, complexity, and friction, all in the spirit of personal and creative growth. As cliche or corny as it may be, Elphi became a unique symbol for me as much as full-time Hamburg residents.
Little did I know when I left Hamburg at the beginning of the pandemic, I’d be entering yet another period of personal disaster and setbacks on top of the globally shared ones.
Three years later, I now find myself rebuilding again.
And, as I struggle to find the proper foundations of my past worth building upon and determine how to design and bring something new to life on top of them, I now have a new daily view of The Elbphilharmonie as a constant reminder of what beauty can come from the effort.
