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Where could my grandfather have painted Besigheim in 1943?

In 1943, my grandfather, the artist Hermann Radzi-gRadzyk, presented his picture “Besigheim” in the show room of the Verein Berliner Künstler to sell it. His work was burnt in a bombing raid. Though I do not know the painting, I visited Besigheim in September 2026 to find the view he could have painted.

I believe, I found the view my grandfather painted.

This is the Besigheim city line seen from the Enzweg, the path along the river Enz, with the townhall on the left and the Schochen tower on the right, above the bridge (a medieval bridge, destroyed in April 1945 and soon rebuilt in a more modern style).

Along the Enz, I found various beautiful views, more upriver just with the Schochen tower and the roof of the Steinhaus (stone house)…

… or more downriver with the townhall.

These are other candidates for the view my grandfather could have painted, but my favourite is the first view – and it might have been the favourite of my grandfather, too.

Let us now delve deeper:

  • How do I know of the destroyed painting “Besigheim”? – I found a record in the Berlin State Archive.
  • Why did my grandfather paint at Besigheim in 1943? – He visited his art friend Richard Duschek – quite sure.
  • Why Besigheim? – It is a well preserved medieval city. Let us explore it.

 

How do I know of the destroyed painting “Besigheim?

In the Berlin State Archive (Landesarchiv Berlin), I found the record A – Rep. 005 -7 Nr. 644 about the painting “Besigheim”. My grandfather presented it in the Verein Berliner Künstler (Association of Berlin Artists), Tiergartenstrasse 2a in Berlin, to sell it for 1200 Reichsmark. In November 1943, an air raid destroyed the building and the picture. My grandfather asked for compensation for the loss at the Kriegsschädenamt (Office for War Damages). He asked for 1000 Reichsmark (RM), explaining that he lives from selling his paintings. The officer intended to grant him only 600 RM, but an expert from the Reichskammer der Bildenden Künste (Reich Chamber of Visual Arts) stated that Hermann Radzyk was a respectful artist that deserves the compensation of 1000 RM.

 

Why did my grandfather paint at Besigheim in 1943?

My grandfather Hermann Radzyk often painted, where he would meet other artists or an art friend. Can I find an art friend that lived at Besigheim?

Yes. The Website of Besigheim presents the artist Richard Duschek (1884-1959), well respected here. The city keeps his legacy of paintings and they named a street after him. For the 50th anniversary of his death, in 2009, Besigheim organized a memorial exhibition. Auction houses sell his paintings still today.

Richard Duschek was 5 years younger than Hermann Radzyk. In 1907, Duschek enrolled at the Königliche Akademie der Bildenden Künste (Royal Academy of Visual Arts). The two artists must have met here, as my grandfather then spent his last semesters at the Academy, and they had the same teacher, Maximilian Schäfer.

Like my grandfather, Richard Duschek was a member of the Verein Berliner Künstler and showed his paintings at the Grosse Berliner Kunstausstellung (Great Art Exhibition of Berlin). Duschek lived many years in Berlin Charlottenburg, also like my grandfather.

In 1943, a bombing raid destroyed Duschek’s apartment and workshop in Berlin Charlottenburg. After that he moved to Besigheim, the hometown of his wife.

I am quite sure, it is no coincidence that my grandfather was at Besigheim in 1943, which is the year, when Richard Duschek moved to Besigheim.

When I strolled through Besigheim, I met a charming lady, citizen of Besigheim. Born in 1940, she had met Richard Duschek and owns a painting by him. She told me that Duschek’s favourite place was on the banks of the river Enz with the view of the medieval city line. Later the guard of the church told me, that Besigheim sells this view as a puzzle – it really seems to be a popular view.

I am sure, Richard Duschek showed the Enzweg to my grandfather, and it might be very probable that the destroyed painting showed the city line painted from the river Enz.

 

Why Besigheim? – It is a well preserved medieval city. Let us explore it

Besigheim is located between Stuttgart an Heilbronn.


Source: Googlemaps

The tourist office in the townhall has a map with 18 sights of interest, most of them medieval, the oldest from the 13th century.


Source: Stadt Besigheim, “Historischer Rundgang durch Besigheim”, o.Jg (the map was heavily used, as I strolled through the city centre)

The Hauptstrasse (main street) crosses the city from north to south ; it is a quiet main street. The Kirchgasse (Church Lane) is the vein of the medieval city, leading slightly upwards from north to south, ending with the church and the southern gate. Furthermore, the map shows the Enzweg along the river Enz that Richard Duschek  preferred for his paintings. In the internet you find some of the views he and other artists painted here.

It was a great pleasure for me to explore the city centre, not destroyed in the war, all houses well kept. In the streets, I met mostly citizens of Besigheim or some tourists from Germany, only a few tourists were from abroad – I heard some Dutch and some English. It took me my almost two days to visit all sights of interest in the centre and the vineyards north of Besigheim. Let me share a few impressions with you.

I entered Kirchgasse near the Waldhornturm (French Horn Tower, # 1).

Looking back north from the Kirchgasse, we can see the tower and the vineyards north of the city. Cars are not forbidden in the city centre… the citizens of Besigheim  obviously live here.

At the street fork  I found Berne’s bar with a selection of regional wines and some snacks. I liked their Maultaschen (Swabian “mouth” dumplings) with the light potato salad.

The market place is overlooked by the townhall (from the 15th century, clock from the 17th century, # 12). This is the very centre of the city. From the river Enz, we could already see the townhall; it towers above the other roofs.

Next to the townhall, the Dreigiebelhaus (house of three gables, 15th century,  # 11) is a bookstore today. I wanted to buy a tourist guide about Besigheim – not on sale here. I just found a small illustrated book about Besigheim with the subtitle “the most beautiful wine village of Germany”. This is a bookstore for the Besigheim citizens; they want to read, give books to their children or travel elsewhere.

The supporter of the market fountain (16th century, # 10) looks north into the Kirchgasse and towards the vineyards. He carries the coat of arms of the Duchy of Baden.

The Kirchgasse ends with the Evangelische Stadtkirche (protestant town church, from the 14th century, # 21). Inside I find the altar from 1520, dedicated to Patron Saint Cyriacus and a fresco of the crucifixion.

The church is protected by the Schochenturm (Schochen tower, from 1220, # 20) and the Steinhaus (stone house, from 1220, # 19). From the Enz, we already saw the Schochenturm and the roof of the Steinhaus (I took the photo below from the south, from outside the city).

The city centre is full of historical houses, some half-timbered, some built of stone. Two examples are the Ehemaliges Königliches Oberamt (former royal upper authority building, 15th century, # 23)…

… and the Wengerterhaus (house of a wine grower, 16/17th century, # 4).

Three bakery houses (Backhäuser, # 5,  # 15, # 26) are still in use to make bread. This is number 15 from 1828, just next to the town wall.

These are only a few samples of this marvellous medieval town. Furthermore, I found many cosy corners, lovingly set up, such as this slim house adorned with flowers.

Around the city centre are industrial zones, not exactly attractive, but they provide jobs that allow the citizens to earn money.

That reflects in the well maintained houses in the city centre. The lady I met, born in 1940, had worked all her life at Besigheim. Now she is retired and well dressed in floral-patterned jeans.

In addition, Besigheim is proud of their winemaking tradition. To explore the steep vineyards, I climbed up the Himmelsleiter (ladder to heaven).

This is the end of the ladder to heaven.

From here, I reach two view points, the “Schönste Weinsicht” (most beautiful wine view)…

… and the Niedernberg platform.

From the Niedernberg platform, I look down to the medieval centre of Besigheim, from the Waldhorn tower (nearest) up to the Schochen tower, the Steinhaus and the protestant church (background) and, in the middle, we see the townhall, towering above the other roofs.

My two days at Besigheim were a relaxing experience.

 

Thank you, my grandparents, you took me to another beautiful spot in the world

Besigheim is another beautiful spot that my grandparents, Hermann and Helen Radzyk, pointed out to me. Thank you. I very much enjoyed the two days here. And I felt close to you.

After my last dinner in the welcoming Istrian restaurant, I walked along the medieval Kirchgasse again. The moon shines over the city, also the moon seems to like Besigheim.

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Martin Meyer-Pyritz, sculptor, was a friend of Hermann Radzyk

As my mother told me, my grandfather, Hermann Radzig-Radzyk, had art friends. However, the only art friend my mother mentioned by name was Arthur Hoffmann – I have talked about him in my latest blog.

Besides Arthur Hoffman, I identified more friends by guessing. One of them is Martin Meyer-Pyritz. The indication: We own two small bronze figures signed by him. With these two figures, we grew up, never asking who has made them.

 

Martin Meyer-Pyritz made the two little figures

The two little figures owned by us are an ash-tray with a charming dachshund sitting up and begging…

and a small child with one arm stretched out.

The artist engraved his name on the ashtray…

… and on the child sculpture.

Only recently, I have taken notice of the engraving.

 

My memories connected with the two figures by Martin Meyer-Pyritz

I remember that my mum told me about an art friend of my grandfather’s that was very tall and used to put the ash trays high on the cupboards or book shelves. Perhaps this tall artist was Martin Meyer-Pyritz, and may be he offered the ash tray with the dachshund to apologize that my grandparents had to climb ladders to take down the ash trays again. Well, I have no evidence that Martin Meyer-Pyritz was tall, but it would make up a nice story which is not totally implausible.

In my memory, the small child used to carry a wedding ring on the left arm stretched out. Whenever my father returned home, he took off his wedding ring and gave it to the child. It was a clear sign, our dad was at home. And we were always happy, when he was at home. He was a wonderful father; sometimes he had two small chocolate mice wrapped in silver foil for his two girls. He left us in 1970, too young, but nevertheless we still see the wedding ring on the left arm of this small child and then think lovingly of our father.

 

Martin Meyer-Pyritz decorated two U3 metro stations at Berlin – first the Rüdesheimer Platz

The metro station Rüdesheimer Platz reflects what Rüdesheim is about: Wine and vineyards. Already, the grapes above “Rüdesheimer Platz” underline that.

Martin Meyer-Pyritz was asked to decorate this metro station.

Photos of grape bunches and leaves create the atmosphere of vineyards. They are separated by columns with small medallions.

It is rather dimly lit here, you have to look carefully to see, what these small medallions are about.

They represent animals in the vineyards, beetles, lizards, snails, frogs…

More beetles decorate the ceiling.

And the lamps are again surrounded by grapes.

The passengers rush by with their heads down. The small animals populating the vineyards go unnoticed. Neither have I noticed them so far. What a pity, they make up a charming illustration of vineyards.

 

Martin Meyer-Pyritz decorated a second U3 metro station, the Breitenbachplatz

Paul von Breitenbach was a Prussian politician and railway planner. Railways are the topics of the metro station Breitenbachplatz. Joachim Szymczak created the paintings of the station in 1988 commemorating the 150th anniversary of the Prussian railways, as an explanatory panel in the metro station says.

Martin Meyer-Pyritz created various medallions with animals, plants and research instruments. I found about fifteen different medallions that are repeated along the wall.

Here are some examples, the deer, …

… the fox with the prey, …

… and the owl.

Also these medallions go unnoticed by the passengers that rush by entering and leaving the metro, while the voice says each time “U3 nach Warschauerstrasse (or Krumme Lanke) – einsteigen bitte – zurücktreten bitte.” (U3 to Warschauerstrasse (or to Krumme Lanke) – get in please – step back please).

 

Who is Martin Meyer-Pyritz?

In 1870, Martin Meyer-Pyritz was born in Pyritz, now called Pyrzyce. Hence, he was 9 years older than my grandfather and, like him, he also had Silesian roots. Martin Meyer-Pyritz studied at the Academy of Arts in Berlin and, like Hermann Radzyk, he participated in the Grosse Berliner Kunstausstellung.

Martin Meyer-Pyritz died in Berlin in 1942. The Bethlehem cemetery at Berlin Kreuzberg has installed a memorial place for him.

In 2023, the Preussische Allgemeine wrote about Martin Meyer-Pyritz that not every artist succeeds in modelling animals real-to-life. His dachshunds, other dogs, donkeys, eagles or marabous were popular. Because of his talent, he was called Tiermeyer” (translated: “animal-Meyer”). Still today, his sculptures can be acquired at auctions.

Martin Meyer-Pyritz also created animal sculptures for the Berlin zoo, however I could not find out, what the statues are – perhaps they have not survived the war.

 

Martin Meyer-Pyritz – an art friend of my grandfather?

Though my mother (and daughter of Hermann Radzyk) never mentioned the name of Meyer-Pyritz, I am pretty sure, he was a friend of my grandfather, as we own the two sculptures and as they both participated in the Grosse Berliner Kunstausstellung.

Whenever I look at the ashtray with the pretty dachshund, I imagine it being somewhere high up in the apartment of my grandparents, and they have to climb a footstool or even a ladder to take it down again.

Once more, my grandparents have opened my eyes for something I had never taken notice of before, namely the decoration of the two U3 metro stations Rüdesheimer Platz and Breitenbachplatz.

Nice to have met you, Mr Martin Meyer-Pyritz!

 

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Arthur Hoffmann, sculptor and friend of Hermann Radzyk

My mother always told me that my grandfather Hermann Radzyk had many art friends. One of them was Arthur Hoffmann.

In 1929, my grandfather painted his friend Arthur Hoffmann.

The portrait was dated and signed with Hermann Radzig-Radzyk, it has no title though.

 

How do know, this is Arthur Hoffmann?

Why do I know, the portrait shows Arthur Hoffmann? The answer comes in two steps.

First step: Arthur Hoffmann modelled Hermann Radzyk’s daughter Marion, when she was a teenager (our mother).

He signed the bust with his name (with “Artur”, usually he goes by the name “Arthur”); the bust is undated. In 1932, Arthur Hoffmann showed the bust called “Marion” at the Verein Berliner Künstler; I saw the exhibition catalogue in their archive. Hence the bust was sculpted in 1932. Then, Marion, the daughter, was 16 years old.

I remember, my mother told me, she had to sit down long hours for this bust and had to catch up at school after that.

Second step: A Telegraf article is attached to the bust. I made a quick photo with my smartphone.

Later I looked at the article in more detail. It is from May 15th 1955. It talks about Arthur Hoffmann and his antelope. I compared the photo with the portrait… look at the raised left eyebrow and the prominent chin! The photo and the portrait both show Arthur Hoffmann. On the photo of 1955, he was just 26 years older that in 1929, when my grandfather had painted him.

This is how I knew that my grandfather had portrayed Arthur Hoffmann.

 

The antelope will return to the Preussenpark at Berlin – and the antelope DID return

The Telegraf article of 1955 talks about the antelope that will return to the Preussenpark. The antelope was a bronze sculpture made by Arthur Hoffmann that had been destroyed during the Second World War. The mold still existed, and in 1955 Arthur Hoffmann offered to recast the antelope. The younger brother of Hermann Radzyk, Ferdinand Radzig, sent the article to my mother, and he added in handwriting that, before the war, the antelope was so true-to-life amidst the bushes of the Preussenpark.

Well, the antelope DID return to the Preussenpark. I saw it for the first time in 1966, when I visited Berlin with my mother. I have kept on visiting the antelope again and again, whenever I was at Berlin.

Now, end of May 2026, I am again in Berlin, and as always, I greet the antelope of Arthur Hoffmann in the Preussenpark. Later, I learn from the Wilmersdorfer Magazine of May 2026 that the antelope had been set up at the Preussenpark exactly 100 years ago, in May 1926. It disappeared in 1944 (maybe it was melted down), and, as I knew already from the Telegraf article, it had been recast in 1955. The original was donated by the Berliner Strassenbahn GmbH.

 

The chandelier – also a work of Arthur Hoffmann?

I believe that this chandelier is also a product of Arthur Hoffmann, though it has no signature.

My grandfather Hermann Radzyk painted the chandelier standing in the corner of their apartment in Charlottenburg, as his daughter/my mother told me. Hence the chandelier was painted before 1935/1936 (before my grandparents moved from Charlottenburg to Kleinmachnow).

Now, chandelier and painting are reunified and I had the chandelier repaired.

Well, the chandelier is unsigned, but it looks just like the Art  Nouveau dancers of Artur Hoffmann that auction houses still sell today.

 

About Arthur Hoffmann (1874-1960)

Born in 1874 at Potsdam, Arthur Hoffmann was 5 years older than Hermann Radzyk. They studied together at the Königliche Akademische Hochschule für die Bildenden Künste; they met for just one semester in winter 1902/03 (see UdK Archiv). Arthur Hoffmann received the Grosser Staatspreis (Grand State Prize) in 1903 (see invaluable and Wilmersdorf Gazette).

In 1953, my mother visited Arthur Hoffmann, when she was at Berlin for the funeral of her mother Helene Radzyk. Arthur Hoffmann told her that life as an artist was difficult in Berlin now (according to my mother’s diary of 1953).

Arthur Hoffmann died at Berlin in 1960.

The Wilmersdorfer Gazette says that Arthur Hoffmann was one of the major artists shaping the art scene at Berlin in the late imperial era and during the Weimar Republic in the 1920’s. Like other artists from those years he has been largely forgotten now. However, auction houses still sell his elegant sculptures, above all graceful dancers.

 

Dreaming near the antelope…

Now I am sitting on the bench near the antelope commemorating Arthur Hoffmann and dreaming about my grandfather Hermann Radzyk with his house open to artists (certainly supported by his wife Helene). My memories move on to their daughter Marion, my mother: She was a Berliner, and she felt like a Berliner; she took me to her city 60 years ago, then showing this antelope to me and opening my eyes for her city.

 

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Hermann Radzyk’s slim painting and the love of his wife Helene

In 1936, my grandfather Hermann Radzyk painted a yellow wheat field with a man sitting in it.

His signature “Hermann Radzig-Radzyk” fits on this strip.

This small painting survived thanks to his wife Helene Radzyk-Putensen – my grandmother.


Picture by Hermann Radzig-Radzyk 1912 (My grandmother was then 33 years old).

Let me tell you the story that my grandparents’ daughter Marion, my mother, told me more than 30 years ago:

My grandfather sometimes did not like the proportions of his paintings. He would then cut the sides off to improve the proportions. From the painting of the man in the wheat field he kept on cutting off the sides, until he ended up with the small strip. At this point, my grandmother took the painting away from her husband and said: “Well, now there is nothing left to cut off from this painting. I would like to keep it now as a memento.” What a sign of love.

And this is, how the painting strip with the man in the wheat field survived. I had it framed. It hangs in my guest room.

Whenever I see the strip, I think of my grandmother Helene who truly loved her husband Hermann, my grandfather. Love in the marriage, this is what my grandparents handed on to their daughter, my mother, and after that to us, the granddaughters. We all lived or live happy marriages, what a wonderful legacy.

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Hermann Radzyk painted Grünheide vom Werlsee – where?

In 1920, my grandfather Hermann Radzig-Radzyk painted “Grünheide vom Werlsee” (“Grünheide from the Lake Werl”).

The Kunsthaus Winterberg in Heidelberg sold the picture in 2012. They sent me the photo from their archive. Perhaps, the painting was at the Grosse Berliner Kunstausstellung (Great Berlin Art Exibition) in 1923, under the title “Märkische Landschaft” (number 766).

In Mai 2025, I took the commercial boat from the small town Erkner to the village Grünheide. I was curious, whether I could see my grandfather’s church from the boat (thus FROM the Werlsee).

No, today, the church hides behind trees; I can see just part  of the small tower and part of the roof. Another picture that my grandfather could no longer paint today. The world has changed since 1920.

The Grünheide church is called “die Kirche zum Guten Hirten” (the church of the Good Shepherd) and was built in 1892. It is located on a small hill above the Werlsee. I climbed the hill and took this photo from behind the church.

The small tower has not changed since my grandfather painted it.

 

Where are we? Grünheide is located east of Erkner near Berlin

The village Grünheide is the regional center of the community Grünheide east of Erkner. The village is located between two lakes, the Werlsee and the Peetzsee. The commercial boat I took starts at Erkner shortly before twelve, travels through the Löcknitz Channel and the Werlsee, reaches Grünheide in the early afternoon  and returns to Erkner in the late afternoon.


Source: Google maps, January 2026, with my own additions

My grandfather called his painting “Grünheide FROM the Werlsee” which means, he looked at the church FROM the lake (he was always precise). I do not believe, he was sitting in a boat; I believe, he painted near today’s day care facility Schildkröte (turtle) on the north shore of the lake. Private property here, I could not get in. The best approximation for the location of the easel was my photo taken on the commercial boat which I recall here.

From the lake, we see the front of the church. My grandfather’s view is more from the side.

This is is another indication that the easel stood on the north shore of the lake, near today’s day care facility Schildkröte (turtle).

 

Why turtles? The day care facility is called “turtle” and I come across more turtles

Why turtles? I come across turtles all over: The day care facility is called “turtle”, the “Pension Schildkröte (turtle)” offers rooms, the “Schildkrötenweg” (turtle lane) refers to them and the coat of arms shows a turtle in water.

At the local tourist office, I bought the fridge magnet with the coat of arms.

Grünheide is proud of their turtles. But where are the real turtles? The lady at the tourist office explained to me that turtles used to live around Grünheide and have decorated the coat of arms since 1934.

The European pond turtle (Sumpfschildkröte, literally “swamp turtle”) was common in the waters of Grünheide until the late 20th century. They have disappeared now. In 1999, the community Grünheide decided to set up a turtle pond on the Löcknitz campus, where the children could learn about the turtles. The turtle website https://www.sumpfschildkroete-gruenheide.de informs about the turtles of Grünheide and tells the story of the pond’s construction.

I visited the turtle pond. I found it behind a fence with the gate locked. Through the fence, I could watch the turtles enjoy the sun on their sun island.

From Wikipedia I learn that European pond turtles do not only live in Central Europe (some wild turtle communities still exist), but also in parts of North Africa and of Central Asia. The species is in danger of extinction.

What a pity that turtles have disappeared from Grünheide. The turtle pond reminds of them nicely.

 

Walking along the Löcknitz meanders

Several times I walked along the Löcknitz meanders between Grünheide and Erkner – it takes about 2 hours.

I like the walk. The path takes me mostly through forest…

… and from time to time, I am on the bank of the river Löcknitz. I stopped here in October 2024…

… and again in Mai 2025.

Beyond Fangschleuse, I come across another romantic place (also an October photo).

Under the highway A10, the frog bridge allows to cross the Löcknitz. I stay on the southern side of the river.

The highway cuts through the heathland… what a terrifying sight.

Despite the ugly concrete wall, I can hear the cars rush by.

Then the Löcknitz is quiet again.

I climb down this steep river bank, …

… and find another romantic spot.

In between there are some hidden allotments, what a wonderful place to recover from the vibrant life of Berlin.

I reach Erkner once more and take the S3 back to Berlin.

 

Again I was close to my grandparents, here at Grünheide

In the S-Bahn back to Berlin, I think of my grandparents Hermann und Helene Radzyk – I was so close to them once more.

They loved to be at Grünheide. In 1916, my grandfather wrote a postcard to his aunt Sophie telling her that he has a weekend off and wants to spend it at Grünheide. We know of my grandfather’s painting “der Angler an der Löcknitz” of 1921. Four more paintings of Grünheide are mentioned in the inventory of my friend’s uncle compiled in the Second World War; the four paintings are lost. Another painting of the Werlsee was a wedding gift for my friend’s grandfather, also lost. I believe, my grandfather created more paintings that I do not know of and that are all lost.

Yes, my grandparents loved the Grünheide with its lakes and the meandering river Löcknitz. I followed their footsteps, and I agree, the Grünheide is lovely. I will surely return.

 

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Hermann Radzyk painted the angler at the Löcknitz in 1921 – where?

My grandfather Hermann Radzyk painted the angler at the Löcknitz in 1921. I believe, I found the location of the easel in September 2025.

This is “der Angler an der Löcknitz”, signed Hermann Radzig-Radzyk and dated to 1921.

Let us look at the details: The river Löcknitz is meandering. Both shore areas are flat meadows. Two influxes feed the Löcknitz from the left. On the right river bank my grandfather painted another angler and some people walking (perhaps along a path). Behind the meadows, there is a slightly elevated line of bushes or trees. In the bushes above the meadows, I believe, I can identify a small house in the top left corner.


On the back my grandfather added the year, the title and “bei Erkner” which means “close to Erkner”.

 

Where is Erkner located? 

Let us first see, where we are: Erkner is a small city in Brandenburg, at the border with Berlin.


Source: Google maps, January 2026

 

Identifying the landscape by analyzing maps and comparing this with my observations on site

Five times I took the Berlin S-Bahn S3 to Erkner to look for the location of the easel. A hundred years ago, the banks of the river Löcknitz were accessible – this is, how my grandfather could paint his angler at the Löcknitz. But now the banks are largely covered with trees – mostly inaccessible. This makes it difficult to identify the location of the easel. Only by combining my observations with Google Maps and the forrester’s map Arcanum of 1877, I was able to narrow down the location of my grandfather’s easel, and I am pretty sure, I found the approximate location.


Source: Google maps with my annotations (map accessed in January 2026).

Let me explain: On the map, I crossed out the implausible areas (X) to narrow down the probable location of the easel.

(1) My grandfather wrote “bei Erkner” or “close to Erkner”. He was always precise, hence “close to Erkner” means that his easel was closer to Erkner than to the next village Fangschleuse.

(2) In 1912/1913, a channel was built to link Erkner directly to the Werlsee and allow shipping. This channel already existed in 1921, when my grandfather painted the Löcknitz, but it is too straight; no, not here; the easel stood, where the Löcknitz was meandering.

(3) What is called “Krumme Löcknitz” (south of the Löcknitz channel) is meandering, but along the “Krumme Löcknitz”, one or both shores are steep (I climbed around here); no, not here; the easel stood, where both banks of the Löcknitz were flat.

(4) Before flowing north and into the Flakensee, the Löcknitz is mainly without meanders and it was without meanders already in 1877, as the historical Arcanum map below shows; no, not here; the easel stood, where the Löcknitz is meandering.


Source: Historische Karten Preussen, Forst Erkner 1877 accessed in Januar 2026 (the railway was constructed in 1877),
https://maps.arcanum.com/de/geoname/germany/forst-erkner-2929601/

(5) The historical Arcanum map of 1877 shows that at the “Das Krönichen” both river banks were flat meadows. In addition, it shows the railway (built in 1842); the rails are on a dam, where the land rises up to about 100m, says the map. This is higher than the meadows at “Das Krönichen” (altitude on Wupatzsee: 32m). On the historical map, the higher area is covered with bushes or trees, already in 1877. This matches:  Flat meadows and in the background elevated bushes or trees, that is, what my grandfather painted in 1921.

(6) On the historical Arcanum map, the meadow on the right shore is bordered by a forest with a hiking path along the edge of this forest; the hikers on my grandfather’s picture behind the meadow could well be walking on a path along the edge of the forest.

(7) What about the house in the top left corner of my grandfather’s picture? Today the forest rangers have a house here, but it was built later than 1921, only in 1929. Before 1929, there was perhaps a tumbledown house here used by peat diggers, as I understand from the local historian. Hence it could well be that my grandfather saw (and painted) a small house in the top left corner of his picture.

As the area around “Das Krönichen” is the only place, where the Löcknitz meanders “close to Erkner” and where both river banks are flat with influxes from the left, I am pretty confident that the easel was at “Das Krönichen”. Compared to 1877, the influxes from the south have slightly changed today (the local historian told me that for “Das Krönichen”, small river bank fortifications are known). My grandfather must have stood behind one of the influxes, presumably behind the first one after the Wupatzsee, which gave him the full overview of the (at that time still existing) meadows and the elevations in the background.

These are my guesses. I was not able to access the place, where I assume the easel was. “Das Krönichen” on the left bank (downstream) is covered with trees; I could not find a path to get to the influxes. Neither could I find a path to get behind the forester’s house to the edge of the elevation above the meadow or to the pond below it.

To verify my guess, I took the commercial boat from Erkner to Grünheide.

At “Das Krönichen”, my first photo from the boat shows the left bank (left downstream), where I assume the easel stood on the (flat) meadow. Today there is dense forest here, on flat ground. This is as much as I can see from “Das Krönichen”, when passing by by boat.

My second photo from the boat shows the meadow on the right river bank (right downstream). From the river, trees hide the view of the meadow, except for this “window”.

When walking back from Grünheide, I accessed this “window”, with the view of “Das Krönichen” across, where the easel must have been. Just trees all over.

Later, I looked at the meadow from the hiking path that already existed in 1877 and still exists today. I cannot see the river Löcknitz, trees hide the view.

The explanatory panel of the Wupatz Path says that this is a damp meadow bordering the river Löcknitz.

Well, my grandfather could no longer paint his picture today. The area around “Das Krönichen” has become an inaccessible nature reserve. Good for nature.

 

It was a great pleasure to explore the area around Erkner; it is worth a detour with its lakes and rivers

The above explanatory panel is part of the Wupatz Path that teaches children knowledge about the forest (Waldweisheiten).

The path is called after the romantic Wupatz lake (Wupatzsee).

The Löcknitz channel is separated from the Wupatzsee by a small land bridge (photo taken from the boat).

On and near this bridge, I met anglers and a photographer. One angler, a German not far from Erkner, was frustrated: He caught not one fish, and the group of lucky men nearby caught one fish after the other, were not pleased with the size and threw them all back into the water. The successful anglers invited me to sit down and share sandwiches with them. Behind the bridge, a photographer was enthusiastic about dragon-flies. He explained the differences to me – some are rare, some are more common… and he took one photo after the next with his professional looking camera.

The Hubertussteig (wooden bridge) crosses the Krumme Löcknitz. Panels tell the children about the fish that live in the area: rudd, river perch and pike, and these are just a few out of almost twenty species.

The Löckntz was and is an anglers’ paradise. No wonder that my grandfather painted an angler at the Löcknitz.

Where the Löcknitz flows north towards the Flakensee, Ernker has established the Theodor Fontane Path, and it starts with this poem:

“On a summer morning, take your walking stick, all your concerns will fall off from you like mist”. Panels with poems by various poets line the Fontane path; the poems match the trees.

Shortly before the Löcknitz enters the Flakensee, I found this this small resting place, where I met more anglers.

Later the Löcknitz flows in the Flakensee; this lake attracts the Berliners with camping and picknick sites.

At Woltersdorf, I took the tram; it climbs up a hill (a hill here, what a surprise…) and brings me to the S-Bahn station Rahnsdorf, where I took the S3 back to Berlin.

I have just included a few sample photos that I took, when walking near Erkner. Yes, the lakes and rivers here are worth the detour.

 

Thank you, my grandparents, you showed me another wonderful place

So many times already my grandfather’s pictures took me to wonderful places, this time with the picture “der Angler an der Löcknitz”. Thank you, my grandparents, I enjoyed exploring the rivers and lakes around Erkner, and I will return to show the area to my friends that grew up in Berlin, but could not get to Erkner at that time because of the inner-German border. I am sure, they will also like the area.

 

Post Scriptum: Some history of Erkner

Erkner started as a small fishermen’s hamlet. In 1712, it became a stop on the postal line from Berlin to Freiburg an der Oder. In 1752, the Prussian king Frederick the Great had 1500 mulberries planted. The plantation was unsuccessful and was soon given up. Today one single mulberry tree is left on the main street.

This tree survived the bombings of the Second World War, and Erkner is proud of it: A mulberry tree with fruit decorates the coat of arms of Erkner.

In 1860 Erkner was declared a climatic spa village; tar was produced here, and the exhaust fumes were considered to be healthy. This attracted Gerhart Hauptmann who lived at Erkner from 1885-1889. Bechstein, the producer of the famous Bechstein pianos, built his summer villa in 1889; the villa is now the Erkner townhall.

Bechstein is well remembered at Erkner; the Italian Ristorante di Piano carries his name.

Since 1842, Erkner has been a train stop on the railway line from Berlin to Freiburg an der Oder and to Breslau, and since 1928, it has been an S-Bahn terminal stop, now S3. The train connection made Erkner and its beautiful surroundings popular with the Berliners.

 

Sources:

  • Mail by Frank Retzlaff, Erkner, 30.08.2025 (Around 1910, a channel was planned, but the inhabitants of Erkner and Berlin protested, because the Löcknitz landscape was a popular recreation area; as a compromise, the channel was built in 1912/13. For the Das Krönichen, only river bank fortifications are know, no precise records exist).
  • Mail by Guido Weichert, 04.06.2025 (mentioned that formerly there were meadows on Das Krönichen)
  • Mail by Köpenicker Fischerverein, A. Krüger (he gave me the name “Krumme Löcknitz” that is not marked on the maps. He assumed,  the picture was painted here, but I could not find two flat river banks along the Krumme Löcknitz close to Erkner).
  • https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erkner
  • https://www.familienbuendnis-erkner.de/familienbuendnis/Archiv-Projekt/Erkner-Geschichten/Bechstein-Villa.php
  • Panel on the townhall (says that the villa was built in 1889)

 

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May bridges be built in the new year 2026

We are about to start the new year 2026.

For 2026, I wish that bridges will be built. Bridges connecting fighting parties and extreme opinions, bridges, where people can approach each other and listen to each other without judging.

That is why I have chosen six pictures of bridges painted by my grandfather, Hermann Radzig-Radzyk.


The arcade 1912


Trogir bridge in Dalmatia 1914


Silberberg viaduct in Silesia  1924


Boniface Bridge in Brügge 1926


Old Tauber Bridge Detwang 1942


Heidelberg 1942

Yes, for 2026, I wish that bridges will be built. Bridges connecting fighting parties and extreme opinions, bridges, where people can approach each other and listen to each other without judging. Happy new year.

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Hermann Radzyk painted the Canal Grande in Venezia in 1910 – where?

Just after having finished his studies at the Königliche Akadamische Hochschule der Bildenden Künste in Berlin, my grandfather Hermann Radzyk and his wife Helene travelled to Venice. My grandparents were a newly married young couple then.

My grandfather painted “Canal Grande, Venezia 1910”, signed Hermann Radzig-Radzyk; owned privately.

Hermann Radzyk sold the picture to the cousin of his wife Helene; perhaps it was also a gift within the family.

Where was the easel? I looked for a garden along the Canal Grande using Google Maps, but without result. I knew, more systematic searching is needed to find the location of the easel.

 

Later I located the place, where my grandfather put down his easel in 1910

One afternoon in December 2025, I searched using Google maps and found that my grandfather’s easel stood on the Fondamenta del Traghetto San Maurizio looking across the Canal Grande at the palaces next to the Rio de San Vio.

Let me tell you, how I found out, where my grandfather had put down his easel.

  • First, I looked for something typical on the picture; well, what about the bridge just before the side channel enters the Canal Grande?
  • Next I followed the Canal Grande on its long course (wiki entry for Venecia says, it is 4km) to find the side channels with a bridge near the mouth. Voilà, a bridge near the mouth… that fits for the Rio de San Vio.
  • Across Canal Grande, I notice a platform. It is called Fondamenta del Traghetto San Maurizio. This is the platform, where my grandfather painted, as becomes clear by analyzing Google Street Views.

Look at the picture of my grandfather: The platform, where he stands, ends with a house that  has a door arch and a bricked white edge. Google Street View today shows a  house with a door arch and a bricked white edge, what a good match. Well, something like door bells have now been added next to the door, and the dark red colour of the wall has become brighter… but more than a hundred years have passed since then. The stone columns of the railing still have the same form as in 1910. Sure, the easel stood on Fondamenta del Traghetto San Maurizio.

What about the palaces that my grandfather painted across the Canal Grande next to the Rio de S. Vio? Have they changed much? No, they can be identified on Google Street View today, including the garden between them.

The first two houses just next to the mouth of Rio de S. Vio have practically not changed since 1910. The first house still has an oriel and a window with two arches on the first floor; its colour has become more yellow today. The structure of the second house is also unchanged: Still the same arched gallery just above the water, the two side wings framing the steps to access the Canal Grande, the arched window lines with balustrades on the two upper floors. Just the colour has changed, the house is now cleanly white.

From the Fondamenta, Google Streets View provides a second panoramic view which allows to look more into Rio de S. Vio and more upstream beyond the garden.  Street View shows no sun blinds above Rio de S. Vio; my grandfather had painted two sun blinds here; may be he painted on a hot summer day, and the Google Street View photographers were here on a less sunny day. The garden is  also on the picture of my grandfather, and the houses behind the garden can be recognized still today.

The second focus of Google Street View makes one major change clear: My grandfather had painted steps providing access to the channel; they have disappeared today; they have been replaced by a continuous railing. When virtually turning around with Street View, I can see that boats on the Canal Grande are now accessed on the opposite side of the Fondamenta del Traghetto S. Maurizio using a wooden catwalk.

 

The history of the picture “Canal Grande, Venezia, 1910”

The picture of Venice is owned by a distant cousin of mine (let me call her Cathy). A cousin of us (let me call him Hans) told Cathy, who Hermann Radzig-Radzyk was: “Hermann Radzyk (who signed as Hermann Radzig-Radzyk) was an artist in our family and the grandfather of our cousin, Petra. His wife (and Petra’s grandmother) was Helene Radzyk. Helene and your grandmother were cousins; they were friends and went to school together, in Lüneburg; Helene’s father was the director at the agriculture school. Your grandparents either bought the picture from Hermann and Helene Radzyk, or they received it as a gift.”

I visited Cathy a year ago. It is wonderful to meet (even distant) relatives for the first time and to discover similarities such as the same curls in our hair, similarities that remain though it was our grandmothers that were cousins.

We took the picture of Venice from the wall. This is how I found out that it was painted in 1910.

My cousin Cathy always thought, her grandparents had bought the picture as a souvenir, when travelling to Venice as a young couple. But no, it was painted in the family, as our cousin Hans had told her.

While Cathy lived in the Federal Republic of Germany, her grandmother lived in Perleberg in the former GDR; the painting of Venice was with Cathy’s grandmother, in Perleberg. When Cathy’s  grandmother died in the 1960’s, Cathy travelled to Perleberg to settle the estate. An attorney told her that she had no right to the inheritance, because she had left the GDR as a student. “Okay, nothing to be done”, she said, ” but could I then just take the family baptismal bowl with me, as in our family, we have the tradition of engraving the name of each new-born child on it.” “Are you pregnant?”, the attorney asked. “Yes, I am expecting a daughter”, Cathy answered. “Well then”, the attorney answered, “you can renounce the inheritance in favour of your unborn daughter, as she did not leave the GDR on purpose.” And that is how the picture of my grandfather came to the Federal Republic of Germany and into Cathy’s house.

 

My 40-year-old memories of Venice – perhaps I will return one day

I was in Venice in May 1987, almost 40 years ago. At that time, I wrote a diary that I am looking at now. I read that after having arrived at the train station, we took the Vaporetto along Canal Grande to Academia to get to our hotel Americano in Calle Nuova San Agnese. Google Maps tells me that Calle Nuova San Agnese is just behind the houses and the garden that my grandfather painted in 1910. Well, 40 years ago, I did not know my grandfather’s picture, and nevertheless I was so close to it and to my grandparents. It is an almost transcendental feeling.

Perhaps I should return one day in order to consciously look at the Canal Grande that my grandfather has painted and to relive my memories of Venice from 40 years ago.

 

Sources:

 

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The book about the artist Hermann Radzig-Radzyk published

As the granddaughter of the artist Hermann Radzyk (1879-1945), I published the book about my grandfather’s life and work in September 2025. The editor is the Kultur- und Heimatverein Kleinmachnow e.V.

Als Enkelin des Kunstmalers  Hermann Radzyk (1879-1945) publizierte ich im September 2025das Buch über Leben und Werk meines Grossvaters. Der Herausgeber ist der Kultur- und Heimatverein Kleinmachnow e.V.

ISBN: 978-3-033-11258-2.

The cover shows the picture”Panne”, signed Hermann Radzig-Radzyk, painted between 1926 and 1928 in Belgium (North Sea beach).

Das Deckblatt zeigt das Bild “Panne”, signiert Hermann Radzig-Radzyk, gemalt zwischen 1926 und 1928 in Belgien (Nordseestrand).

 

The book is the result of my five years’ research following my grandfather’s footsteps

Five years ago, I started collecting information about my grandfather. For example I studied the family archive (a box with letters and documents), I visited archives in Berlin (found personnel records there), I contacted galleries and auction houses (again and again they sell paintings from inheritances), and I learnt from the Brandenburg Memorial Centre, when he died, namely on September 18 1945 in Sachsenhausen.

My grandfather primarily painted landscapes and cities. I wanted to understand where, I looked for the places in the internet and I travelled there. When I stood at the place, where my grandfather had created one if his paintings, I felt close to him, to my grandmother and to their daughter (my mother). For instance in Bohemia near the Schneekoppe or in Silesia at the Euldörfel and near the Silberberg viaduct.

In the book you  find more than 70 paintings by Hermann Radzyk and his biography(family, education, career as a teacher and artist). The introduction provides the historical context for his life and tragic end.

 

Das Buch ist das Ergebnis von fünf Jahren Forschung auf den Spuren meines Grossvaters

Vor fünf Jahren begann ich, Informationen über meinen Grossvater zu sammeln. Zum Beispiel studierte ich das Familienarchiv (eine Kiste mit Dokumenten und Briefen), ich besuchte Archive in Berlin (fand dort Personalakte), kontaktierte Galerien und Auktionshäuser (verkaufen immer wieder Bilder aus Nachlässen) und erfuhr von der Stiftung Brandenburgische Gedenkstätten, wann er gestorben ist, nämlich am 18. September 1945 in Sachsenhausen.

Mein Grossvater malte meist Landschafts- und Stadtansichten. Ich wollte verstehen wo, suchte die Ansichten im Internet und reiste hin. Wenn ich wieder einmal dort stand, wo mein Grossvater gemalt hatte, fühlte ich mich nahe bei ihm, bei meiner Grossmutter und bei der Tochter (meiner Mutter). Zum Beispiel in Böhmen bei der Schneekoppe oder in Schlesien im Euldörfel und am Silberbergviadukt.

Im Buch findet Ihr  mehr als 70 Gemälde von Hermann Radzyk und seinen Lebenslauf (Familie, Ausbildung, Beruf als Lehrer und Künstler). Die Einleitung stellt sein Leben und sein tragisches Ende in den historischen Zusammenhang.

 

For example I found the locations of the easel for the pictures of the Schneekoppe, the Euldörfel , and the Silberbergviadukt
Zum Beispiel fand ich den Standort der Staffelei für die Bilder mit der Schneekoppe, dem Euldörfel und dem Silberbergviadukt

Schneekoppe, probably/wahrscheinlich 1927 (see/siehe blog schneekoppe) 

 

“Blick in das Glätzische Land” 1923 (see/siehe blog euldörfel)

 

“Der Viadukt, Silberberg, Eulengebirge” 1924 (see/siehe blog silberberg)

 

May the paintings of my grandfather enjoy my family, friends, and many more interested readers
Möge das Buch meine Familie, Freunde und viele weitere geneigte Leser erfreuen

A family friend wrote in a letter to me in 2024: “I believe, your grandfather has never been as alive as he is now, when he has obviously taken possession of you. Enjoy it! … Marion would be happy, and since she can no longer write, I am doing it for her.” (Marion is the daughter of Hermann Radzyk, and she is my mother).

Eine Freundin der Familie schrieb mir im Jahre 2024: ” Ich glaube, Dein Grossvater war noch nie so lebendig wie jetzt, wo er offensichtlich Besitz von Dir ergriffen hat. Freu Dich dran! … Marion wäre glücklich und da sie nicht mehr schreiben kann, tue ich es stellvertretend.” (Marion ist die Tochter von Hermann Radzyk, und sie ist meine Mutter).

 

 

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Looking for the farm that Hermann Radzyk painted at Blankensee

My grandfather Hermann Radzyk (Hermann Radzig-Radzyk) painted this farm full of life about 90 years ago.

The farm house is “in Blankensee (Mark)” and was painted in 1934 and 1940.

The painting was above the sofa in the living room of our parents’ house. It accompanied our evening discussions, sometimes with guests. As girls, we used it, when our teachers – many years ago – asked to describe a painting; there is much to see: the house, the barn, the cock with the hens, one hen on a dung heap, some geese, a birdhouse in the tree… in the background the blue lake…

To look for the farm, I drove to Blankensee in August 2024. I found this green washed house that could be it; I just look at it from the other side (i.e. from behind the fence on the painting).

If this is the farm, a second floor has been added under the roof, now a holiday apartment on offer in the internet. The barn has become a horse stable with solar panels on the roof. I could not verify my assumption, as I could not reach the owners.

Let us see, how I found the green washed house.

 

My investigations at Blankensee 

To find the farm house of the painting, I drove to Blankensee twice. The village and the lake with the same name are located in the Nuthe-Nieplitz valley, about 40km south of Berlin.

First I went there on a sunny Saturday. I parked my car near the village church.

Blankensee is a lively small village, very popular with Berliners who come for a walk in the nature reserve around the lake.

A small museum? May be they have historical photos of the village? “Yes”, the manager of the museum tells me, “we have a collection of old photos and we are currently bringing order into it; leave a photo of your painting, we will tell you, when we find the house your grandfather has painted.” So far, I have not heard from the museum.

The lake can be seen from my grandfather’s farm house? Then I should be able to see the house from the lake side. I  access the lake on the wooden gangway “Holzbohlensteig”.

From here I cannot see any houses from the village Blankensee. I am confused.

What now? I drive to Körzin, a hamlet on the opposite western side of the lake.

In this charming restaurant garden, I enjoy a delicious trout with potatoes and cucumber salad.

Encouraged again, I return to investigate the next question: Though the village Blankensee is not bordering the lake Blankensee, which houses are closest to the lake? The red circle below shows, where the houses are closest, and here I find a path approaching the lake.

Source: Google maps. The path going towards the lake is in the red circle.

I enter the path and walk in direction of the lake.

At the end of the path, bushes and the sign “private property” prevent me from going further. I turn around and notice this green washed house and the horse stable. Horses walk around in the paddock.

Below, on the map, the green washed house is marked by the small red circle. It is a holiday apartment, and the website shows that from the two big windows the lake can be seen across the horse paddock – as on the painting of my grandfather.

Source: Google maps; the green washed house on the Blankenseer Dorfstrasse is marked with the small red circle

May be this is my grandfather’s house just seen from the opposite side? The green washed house has a similar structure as the house on the painting, just with an attic added under the roof . The barn, also seen from “behind” on my photo, has been modernized with solar panels.

There is one difference though. From the holiday apartment the opposite shore line can be seen, while on my grandfather’s painting, there is just the blue lake and no shore line. Is that possible? Yes, it is possible. From the window of the holiday apartment, the view goes across the short side of the lake (more eastwards), while the painting shows the view from between the house and the stable, and this view goes across the long side of the lake (more southwards, see red arrow below).

Source: Google maps; the red arrow shows the view of the lake from my grandfather’s easel.

Second, I return on the following Wednesday to find out more.

Standing in front of the green washed house in the Dorfstrasse, I hear the humming noise of a gazoline lawn mower in a nearby garden. A retiree, born at Blankensee in 1941, is mowing his lawn. “1940’s? I was too young to remember”, he says, “the fisherman Protz lived in the green washed house. His daughter got married, and the couple stayed here until 2016. They sold the house. The new owners converted it into the holiday apartment.”

I try to contact the new owners by ringing the door bell, by dropping a letter in the letter box, by sending an email. However, no answer. No way to verify that the green washed house is the farm house my grandfather painted. It remains a hypothesis, but it is well possible, in my opinion even likely.

Enough, I cannot find out more. Next, I explore Blankensee and its surroundings, another place that my grandparents have guided me to.

 

Some history in the museum of Blankensee

It was the village priest Peters who in the 1940s/50s laid the basis for the museum of Blankensee; he was a hobby archaeologist. He gathered former farming, crafting and fishermen objects. With the farmers, he worked in the fields, where he found objects from prehistoric times. Thanks to the archaeologist-priest, the museum can document the history of Blankensee: Stone age tools, the arrival of the Slavs (9/10th century), the settlement by the Germans (property of the monastery of Zinna in 1307), the rule of the Saxons (from 1333) and of the Prussians (after 1815), the fief of the family Thümen (since 1446), the arrival of the Soviets in 1945, the years of the GDR and the years after the German reunification of 1989.

In 2007, Blankensee celebrated its 700-years’ anniversary (1307 to 2007). The coat of arms alludes to fish and to birds.

One example of the exhibits: The grim catfish looms next to the fish trap. Eels and trouts are also common in the lake.

In the former barn, the museum runs an excellent restaurant, where I have another fresh trout.

 

The nature reserve and the lake

The lake Blankensee is a nature reserve – swimming is forbidden. Panels explain the fauna and flora found here.

Eel is a specialty, it can be bought at the smokehouse in the village.

 

Castle of the family Thümen, now an event center

The famliy Thümen owned Blankensee from 1446. In 1701, they built the charming small castle…

… with a garden full of romantic corners (another work of the garden architect Peter Joseph Lenné).

The castle is now an event centre and the park is open for the public.

 

Friedensstadt

The retiree I met, when he was mowing his lawn, lives in Friedensstadt. “You do not know Friedensstadt?” he asked me with astonishment, and he added: “It is a wonderful place to live, it is not far away, you should have a look.”

I went there and was impressed.

Friedensstadt was founded by Joseph Weissenberg in 1920. Just after the traumatizing World War I, it should become a place of peace for the Christian Johannes Community. It was conceived as a cooperative for residence and work, with social institutions and a religious background. 15 years later in 1935, Friedensstadt counted 400 residents.

Now, history shook up the place. First, the National Socialists took over, in 1945 the Soviets (Garnison Glau). The Russians left Friedensstadt in 1994. The city was given back to the Johannes Community.  In 2020 they celebrated their 100-years’ anniversary.

The Frieda Müller Haus was built in 1930; it was the old people’s home. Today, it contains apartments and meeting facilities, as the panel says.

1934 the school was built in the Bauhaus style. Temporarily, it is used for religious services; it is planned to be converted into a school again, as the panel says.

14 families live in the “10 families house” from 1930 that has also been restored.

Friedensstadt is located off the beaten track. Citizens who want to go to Blankensee, Trebbin, or farther, wait on the “Mitfahrer-Bank”, until a car comes by and gives them a lift as a Mitfahrer or, literally, as a “co-driver”.

When I pass by this bench, no one is waiting here, hence I continue my way alone and return to Berlin.

Thank you, my grandparents, you have shown another nice spot of Germany to me.

 

Sources (all accessed in September 2025):