Ukrainian photographer Nastya Platinova spoke with four musicians from Ukraine, forced to flee war and looking for a new life in Berlin.
Nastya met and photographed these artists in their temporary Berlin flats. Because of the housing crisis in Berlin, most refugee Ukrainians live in temporary accommodation. A flat or room is almost impossible to rent, for either Germans or immigrants. Only one of these musicians lives permanently in one location, the others need to find something every few months.
In Berlin you can find music for every taste, but the prevailing scene is a techno one. The city is full of techno music and rave culture. Every Friday and Saturday night, the streets become overcrowded, and you see native Berliners and tourists on their way to Berghain, Tresor, RSO, or other techno clubs. Huge lines form, but people don’t care—they wait hours, drink their beer, and wait to hear the cherished “come in” from the bouncers.
A lot of other people are listening to techno from their speakers on the street and making raves in underground passages.
Berlin is also full of backstreet punk gigs. They are hiding deep underground (and don’t accept photographers at their events!). You have to know where to go and knock at the door. In those places you pay €5 for a concert and buy a beer for €1.20, cheap because the owners of these places don’t pay taxes. Most of these spots are located in the former German Democratic Republic (East German) part of Berlin, and you see left-wing slogans on the walls inside.
Almost all well-known artists visit Berlin during their tours, and Berliners can easily see their favorite bands. The city also has its own CBGB, named SO36, an iconic place for alternative music that has been open since the 1970s. Unlike New York’s CBGB, the Berlin venue is still open and hosts a wide range of events, including live concerts, parties, and cultural gatherings. SO36 is associated with diverse music genres, including punk, new wave, rock, electronic, and more.
The musicians who let me interview them are: GAEL, who plays at RSO, Tresor, and Berghain, and Poly Chain, who also plays in Tresor, Oxi Club, and Aboutblank. (Those are techno clubs.) And Aircraft and Morwan, who play in 8mm Bar, Loophole, and Urban Spree—small underground locations mainly for live music.
Morwan also plays at Pop Kultur Festival, a big annual festival in Berlin with a wide range of music from pop to post-punk.
Poly Chain
(The project of Sasha Zakrevska, a composer/DJ from Kyiv, Ukraine)
How have you changed over the recent years?
As Musician I had a big jump in the quality of production, since the production itself was a form of escapism from my sorrow and disappointment.
Where are you from originally? How was your journey from Ukraine?
I am from Kyiv, like most of my family. On the first day of war, my relatives took me to the mountains, from where I escaped to Poland. Covid times just ended, and I had a tour planned for the next 3-4 months. For this period I was pretty safe, but then it was obvious for me to stay in Europe since all the airports were closed down and I simply can’t spend 50 hours in a train back and forth from Kyiv to gigs.
Now I have fewer gigs than before, but at least they are well selected. I am considering finding some side hustle in music production or graphic design, so it would be easier to fix my medical debts.
I went to Kyiv at the end of April to visit my grandmother in the hospital and take the rest of my gear I needed for tour and production. Imagine next: My grandmother, the most beloved person in the world, half paralyzed after a stroke. In the background you hear an air raid siren and explosions. She died shortly after this. I don’t want to increase any cheap dramatism here, but what was home—only stays in the memory.
What reminds you of home? Why do you still keep it with you?
This card I got from a graffiti member of 665 crew. Their pieces were all around Kyiv.
What makes you feel truly alive during these dark times?
I remember I was crying on the backstage at my second show in spring 2022, but then I went to the stage and got my shit together and played a very cool live performance.
What was the most surprising thing when you moved to Berlin?
Bureaucracy and people who sympathize with Russians after full-scale invasion.
What have you learned about yourself through your music?
If you don’t respect yourself and your work—nobody will.
What is your first musical memory?
My mom took me to the ballet in Kyiv, and instead of looking at the stage, I was on the balcony, embarrassing my mom, while enthusiastically commenting on everything happening in the orchestra pit.
Aircraft
(Dream-pop one-man band created by Daniel Merkulov in 2011 in Kyiv)
How have you changed over the recent years?
Mentally, physically a lot. But not musically. I’m still doing what I want—and it’s the most valuable thing for me.
Where are you from originally? How was your journey from Ukraine?
I grew up in Chernihiv, but most of my life I lived in Kyiv. I can say that Kyiv is my home city. My way to Berlin I suppose was the same as millions of Ukrainian refugees had. Hard, fast, very painful, but somehow necessary.
Life in a big city is not as easy as I thought. You have to survive, and be very concentrated all the time. But nothing compares to how people are surviving in some parts of Ukraine. I think it’s mostly a privilege to stay in the EU right now. I continue to make music and try my best to be happy no matter what.
My home will always be in Kyiv. I miss my home and my friends and family there.
What reminds you of home? Why do you still keep it with you?
I have my jacket that I found here on humanitarian help. It’s the first piece of clothing that I’ve had here. Somehow I connect it with home, because I just arrived and my memories stick to this jacket.
What makes you feel truly alive during these dark times?
Music, communication with my friends, helping the military.
What was the most surprising thing when you moved to Berlin?
Amount of junkies, homeless, and mad people.
What have you learned about yourself through your music?
That I have a lot of fears.
What is your first musical memory?
Beatles on Soviet vinyl. It was a song called “Day Tripper.” I was 4. It changed my life forever.
What was the most memorable gig you’ve ever performed?
A fashion show. It was Ukrainian fashion week, and we performed with my garage-punk band called Mariansdoitbetter. We had to play with metronome, all songs in one tempo for the models to walk. It was hard but cool.
What question would you like to be asked in an interview, and what would you answer?
Do you like your music? No.
GAEL
(The project of Gael Abakarova—a producer/DJ from Odessa, Ukraine)
How have you changed over the recent years?
Became older, stronger, and more realistic.
Where are you from originally? How was your journey from Ukraine?
My home is Odessa. Originally, I am from Dagestan, which was occupied by the Russians many, many years ago. I was living in Kyiv when the war started. We arrived in Europe after a 10-day journey, with all “adventures” included. The German government was really helpful and supportive in the beginning. I’m grateful for this, now they want me to move aside my artistic personality and go to a “normal” work. Maybe I have to find a new place for living.
What do you feel about your home right now?
For me home was always the place where I can come back any time to see my family and pets. Now I can’t do this, I feel quite upset.
What reminds you of home? Why do you still keep it with you?
I keep these keys from my home in Odessa always with me. I wish I can open that door one day.
What makes you feel truly alive during these dark times?
My love, music, and people. Hope and goals. Also movies, books.
What was the most surprising thing when you moved to Berlin?
Taxes.
What is your first musical memory?
At 7 I started piano lessons, and I remember my first lesson. It was very bad. I also remember that some time later I started learning guitar. I think this is a classic guitarist’s story.
What was the most memorable gig you’ve ever performed?
My live show at Concert Hall/K41 in Kyiv.
What question would you like to be asked in an interview, and what would you answer?
Do you have any upcoming releases soon? Yes, I have a few remixes coming soon, the most important release coming next year on Phase Fatale label Bite, my first vinyl EP.
Morwan
(Post-punk one-man band created in 2019 by Alex Ashtaui)
How have you changed over the recent years?
I’ve become more closed off and less sociable. There’s a constant desire to avoid socializing and stay alone. I increasingly prefer being by myself because you know what to expect from yourself, and there are no surprises.
Where are you from originally? How was your journey from Ukraine?
I was born in Kyiv. The first part of my childhood was spent in Lebanon, as my father is from there.
I made my way to Berlin, like many people, in haste and without understanding what awaited there. My family and I left in the early days of the war from Irpin, a small town near Kyiv. We initially went to Kyiv, where we stayed for a while to figure out what to do. Meanwhile Irpin was already under occupation, so there was no possibility of returning. I had a plan for this situation because I was prepared for war in advance and knew what to do in such cases.
We stayed in Kyiv for some time, but then decided to go to western Ukraine in search of a safer place. We traveled through three or four cities in western Ukraine looking for a place to stay temporarily, but everywhere was the same situation—tens of thousands of people like us came in search of a safe place. The decision was made to go to Europe without a specific destination. We went to Poland, where we stayed for about a week with friends. Then we decided to split up and go to different places to figure out where it’s better to stay. My parents went to Sweden, my brother to Austria, and my girlfriend and I went to Berlin because we had friends who could host us. Also, my girlfriend knew German, so the choice was almost obvious.
I have been living in Berlin for the second year now, and life here is passing quite fast. During this time, I changed apartments seven times. Too many new people, too many events, and too fast-paced a life. Sometimes you just want to stop and rest.
But Berlin is an amazing city. I like living here. Perhaps because Berlin is partially similar to Kyiv—many parts of Berlin are so similar that sometimes you forget you’re in a completely different city. I’ve also met wonderful people here, which allowed me to adapt to the city more smoothly.
What do you feel about your home right now?
I feel an incredible longing. I miss home very much. But I am very scared that my home has changed, and so have I. There is a high probability that I will return not to my home, not to the home I remembered and loved, not to the home that remains in my mind and memories.
What reminds you of home? Why do you still keep it with you?
It was a shirt. I mostly wore this shirt to various parties and events. A reminder of a carefree and lighter life. When you were just surrounded by your friends, in favorite places, and not thinking about anything.
What makes you feel truly alive during these dark times?
Mostly it’s music, or more precisely, the feeling that someone finds my music interesting and needed. Also playing music on stage, even though it’s sometimes challenging. You feel important and significant at that moment.
What was the most surprising thing when you moved to Berlin?
It’s the diversity and freedom in its broader sense. Here, you don’t need to worry about how you look and what you’re doing because you know that no one will judge you, or at least they won’t tell you about it.
But on a more practical level, I was amazed by the transportation system and the scale of Berlin.
What have you learned about yourself through your music?
First and foremost, that my music could be interesting not only to me but to others as well. That someone else could experience what I experience.
I found out that I’m actually quite an emotional person. It manifested in ordinary life, but through music it took on different forms, sometimes the most unexpected for me. A whole spectrum of emotions, from the most positive to the deepest and darkest.
What is your first musical memory?
I remember in the apartment where I lived most of my childhood, there was an old Soviet cassette player, and next to it a shelf with many different cassettes, from Soviet songs to Western classics. But among all these cassettes I had a few favorites—they were Haddaway, Seal, and Black Eyed Peas, I listened to them one after another on repeat; sometimes it could go on for hours, which bored people around.
I also remember a tape of Enrique Iglesias—I used to listen to it a lot too. I don’t know why, maybe I thought his songs were soulful. And I remember when I saw the video for the song “Hero” on TV, I always felt sorry for him at the end, and I hated Mickey Rourke a lot at that moment because he killed Enrique Iglesias. It was sad every time, like the first time.
What was the most memorable gig you’ve ever performed?
It was a gig in France on June 18, 2022. I was invited to play at a small local festival that took place near a small town three hours away from Marseille, the very south of France. This festival was organized by a group of friends, so it was not a commercial story, but more like a huge party of friends.
The festival took place in the open air, surrounded by rocks and rivers, grape fields, and farms. It was my first time in France, and I was delighted and amazed by the beauty of those places, the people, and the atmosphere.
I played the concert itself on the second day of the festival deep in the night. The stage was in the middle of a huge field surrounded by vineyards. It was unbearably hot, 35 or 40 degrees Celsius, and the heat didn’t drop even at night. The festival participants were naked or half-naked, which added a special zest to what was going on.
And playing in the very south of France, in an open field, deep at night, surrounded by complete strangers but beautiful people—it was definitely not what I imagined when I first started playing music. It was much better. And it’s probably the best concert I’ve ever played.
What question would you like to be asked in an interview, and what would you answer?
The only question that comes to mind is: “If there was an opportunity to change something in your past, what would it be?” I would answer nothing. Everything is as it should be.
