The Salons of the Republic

Holger Kleine (Ed.)
THE SALONS OF
THE REPUBLIC
Spaces for Debate
www.hs-rm.de/impact

CONTENT
4
FOREWORDS
6
PREFACE
What Are the Salons of the Republic
and Why Do We Need Them?
COMIC
10
A Day at the Salons of the Republic
Holger Kleine, Johanna Rech
BERLIN
32
38
50
60
68
The Location
The Salons
The Main Hall
The Roof
Making-Of
FRANKFURT AM MAIN
82
84
100
104
110
Making-Of
The Salons
The Formation of Space
The Exploration
The Room Configurations

ESSAYS
128
134
139
146
152
The Planned Center of Democracy
at Paulskirche in Frankfurt Peter Cachola Schmal
Representation of Space and Spaces
of Representation Michael May
Democracy and the Public Sphere
amidst Digital Change Jonas Aaron Lecointe
Places of Democratic Innovations as
Salons of the Republic? Sandra Speer
Strengthening Democracy through
Interaction Marion Kamphans
158
The Room as a Moderator
Holger Kleine
165
POSTFACE
A Balancing Act between Art Academy
and Vocational School Ralf Kunze
169
169
173
REFERENCES
BIBLIOGRAPHY
AUTHORS
174
175
176
ARCHITECTS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
IMPRINT

FOREWORDS
The student designs presented here were created in design seminars
which I taught at the Department of Interior Architecture of Wiesbaden’s
RheinMain University of Applied Sciences. In these seminars – most of the
participants are in the third semester of their bachelor’s degree program
– the didactic objectives are linked to the exploration of the possibilities
and requirements of today’s public interiors. Thus, the predecessors of the
Salons of the Republic were designs for council chambers, civic halls, or
temporary installations.
The design for Berlin was developed in winter semester 2018_19, that
for Frankfurt at the instigation of Peter Cachola Schmal in winter semester
2020_21. The latter project is our contribution to a current debate that is
being conducted among the general public and extends to the highest political
circles. However, it is not our intention to limit our ideas to these two
locations. They serve merely as examples of our conviction that architecture
can make an indispensable contribution to cultivating the capacity for dialogue
and the desire for a vibrant democracy. Currently, salons for Munich
and Cologne are the subject of two master’s thesis projects. The fact that
we can exhibit our ideas for a program as novel as the Salons of the Republic
at Deutsches Architekturmuseum and publish them with ȷovis fills us with
pride and gratitude. We owe our thanks to many – not only to those mentioned
in our acknowledgements.
Holger Kleine
4

The interface between universities and society is undergoing a fundamental
change. Instead of a mere transfer of knowledge, ideas, and technologies
from universities to society, we are moving toward a concept that
puts exchange, participation, and cooperation at the center of collaboration.
This interaction between university and society forms the core of the work
in IMPACT RheinMain, a transfer project at RheinMain University of Applied
Sciences. We are convinced that only by involving everyone in innovation processes
– be it companies, politics, and administration as well as civil society
– can we meet the requirements of a modern transfer concept. In particular,
the far-reaching transformation brought about by digitization underlines
that this modern transfer concept must be put into practice at the interfaces
of “smart energy,” “smart home”, and “smart mobility.” The values forming
the basis of this modern transfer concept are at the heart of the Salons of
the Republic and are also described in more detail in the chapter “Places of
Democratic Innovation as Salons of the Republic?” (p. 146).
In cooperation with Deutsches Architekturmuseum (DAM), the subproject
DIALOG IN MUSEUMS provides a platform for exchange with civil society.
Since the beginning of the Innovative Hochschule project (funded by the
German Federal Ministry for Education and Research and Joint Science
Conference), we have been experimenting with event formats that create
new opportunities for dialogue and discourse – from classic panel discussions
to world cafés, fishbowl discussions, and exhibitions or platforms
that stimulate debate in the museum. The Salons of the Republic offer an
architectural blueprint for this purpose – based on the diagnosed change in
debate culture that has come about as part of the digital transformation of
the public sphere. We share the concepts of the salons based on the belief
that the democratic potential of this change can only be achieved by increasing
the resilience of civil society through communication, participation, and
cooperation. The Salons of the Republic therefore not only make a valuable
contribution to the DIALOG IN MUSEUMS program, but also form a substantial
benchmark for our work in the IMPACT RheinMain project.
Thomas Heimer und Sandra Speer
Forewords
5

Holger Kleine
PREFACE
What Are the Salons of the Republic
and Why Do We Need Them?
The Salons of the Republic are places of communication that transcend
milieus. They serve to cultivate debates using the accepted rules of democracy.
They are built public interiors, accessible to all and inviting everyone
to participate. They serve as a supplement to the chambers of parliament
and other built and virtual spaces, which are essential but not in themselves
sufficient for a vibrant democracy that has nowhere yet been comprehensively
realized.
The fact that a concept such as the Salons of the Republic is in the air is
illustrated by the novel dialogue formats that various agents have experimented
with and established in recent years: These range from a tête-à-tête
in so-called Zuhör-Kiosks (listening kiosks), such as those operated in Hamburg
or Berlin-Kreuzberg (Reis March 14, 2021), to internet platforms such
as “My Country Talks,” which “aims to bring people with opposing political
views together from around the world for one-on-one debates in order to
overcome social divides and promote dialogue between political camps that
have become estranged from one another” (My Country Talks 2021) and the
“Conference on the Future of Europe” currently taking shape, the realization
of which was included by Commission President Ursula von der Leyen in her
political guidelines for the European Commission in 2019. The aim of this
two-year conference is to enable citizens of the European Union to participate
on a broader scale than in the past.
In this collection of essays, Marion Kamphans interprets the Salons of
the Republic as the hub of a “social infrastructure” that requires constant
readjustment, as argued by Eric Klinenberg in his 2018 book Palaces for the
People, and as a challenging example of a “third place” as defined by Ray
Oldenburg: “Third places, according to his [Oldenburg’s] conception, are
places and settings that are atmospherically located between the home
(“first place”) and the workplace (“second place”)” (p. 154). Their character
as thresholds between and overlapping areas of the public and the private
is indeed the key reason I call the spaces designed in my design studio “salons.”
Michael May recapitulates how the bourgeois public sphere developed
6

in urban salons and why the term salon is still suitable today as a central
concept for the spatial representation of groups that require novel, milieutranscending
places in order to make themselves heard.
But what is a salon? The mere mention of the word conjures up yearnings;
we associate it with esprit and sophistication, flexibility and elegance,
tolerance, freedom, and overcoming boundaries, fragrance, and light. In
his introduction to Europa – ein Salon? Roberto Simanowski defined it as
follows: “It soon becomes clear that not all salons are the same. Location,
character, participant structure vary from case to case. In order to distinguish
the salon as a form of social gathering from other forms of social
gatherings such as literary circles, bohemian gatherings, soirées, clubs and
societies, or social gatherings in spas and bathing resorts, the following formal
criteria can be noted, in line with Peter Seibert’s definition: A mixture of
genders, with a salonnière at the center, regular meetings in a private house
that has been expanded to a semi-public space, conversation as the most
important element of the activity, permeability of the participant structures,
and a tendency to have no further goals beyond conviviality” (1999). He also
includes internationality as a further characteristic.
These hallmarks can largely be applied to the Salons of the Republic. The
“tendency to have no further goals beyond conviviality” requires comment
here: The salons do not see themselves in the slightest as a new extraparliamentary
opposition that questions representative democracy and
demands to be institutionalized within the power structure. No, they see
themselves as places of deliberation and communication. For such “noninstitutionalized
streams of communication” (p. 137) the term “deliberative
democracy“ has been coined. In his essay, Jonas Aaron Lecointe sheds light
on the concepts of democracy that underlie the liberal, deliberative, and
republican forms of representative democracy and the challenges that digitalization
poses for the actors in a democracy. Civilizing the internet involves
more than curbing shitstorms and bemoaning the perceived loss of freedom
of speech when confronted with contradiction. What is required instead is
“a strong civil society that […] promotes [protest and dissent] […] wherever
they stand against hate speech and thereby contribute to an actual pluralization
of positions” (p. 145).
There is certainly no shortage of democratic actors in Germany – and yet
today’s political climate seems increasingly characterized by a dwindling
capacity for dialogue. This apparently leads to two opposing but mutually
reinforcing forms of behavior: on the one hand, to retreat into a “selfaffirmation
milieu” (Bernhard Pörksen) that allows us to ignore the Other,
and on the other hand, to the outbreak of savage violence when encountering
the Other. In order to reverse this tendency, a debate culture in which
Preface
7

A Day at the
SALONS OF
THE REPUBLIC
Illustrations: Johanna Rech
Story: Holger Kleine
10

WHAT ARE WE DOING ON SATURDAY?
Freddie, 67, from Angermünde is visiting his daughter Lisa (35) and
grandson Max (7) in Berlin.
What are we
doing on
Saturday?
Going to the playground
all the time is boring,
grandad. Let’s do something
different for a
change.
We could go to the Salon
of the Republic! You
can meet people, take
part in discussions, learn
stuff … and I heard
there are things for
kids, too.
Is that the block of concrete
that they built up at the
Reichstag for loads of money –
my taxes? That talking
shop for people with
nothing better
to do?
Yes, Freddie, yes, that’s
the place I mean, but maybe
we could just go there
with an open mind and
see what it’s
all about?
Fine by me …
If Max doesn’t
mind …
11

ARRIVAL.
What’s that?
… and what’s
that?
That’s the Kanzleramt.
That’s where they carry
out the laws they make
over there.
Sounds cool!
When I grow up, I
want to be
Prime Minister!
Well why not …
That’s the Reichstag.
That’s where the people that
all the grownups voted for
discuss and decide which laws we
have to stick to … So that we all
get along with each other.
Ugh …
it’s always
the grownups who
decide … but it
sounds like it’s
important …
And that
one?
Max,
it says what it is, you can
read it, can’t you? SA-LON-OF-THE-
RE-PU-BLIC. That’s where we’re
heading …
My dacha looks nicer …
I don’t wanna know
how much that
massive staircase
cost …
Yeah, ok, ok, Freddie, but here
people are sitting on the stairs
and talking. Nobody comes to
your stuffy old dacha to talk.
12

FIRST IMPRESSIONS.
Look, they’re painting
over there! I thought
this place was just
for talking?
Oh look, that’s interesting,
they’re showing a film about
farming in Meckpomm. I’d like
to watch that …
Wow, this place is huge …
And there are kids
riding bikes and stuff
over there …
Alright, Freddie, why don’t you sit
down on the steps over there and
watch the film … and we’ll meet
up again here for lunch at one
o’clock …
13

… WHERE IT HAPPENED.
We’ll find out later
what goes on here …
This is where
Freddie and Ole watched
the film.
This is the way
to the roof.
“Forest of Words” –
this is where Max and
Mona played hide
and seek.
22

The citizens‘ advice
bureau – this is where
Freddie and Ole got
advice.
This is where
they had lunch.
This is where
Max crashed into Mona
– in the children’s traffic
training center.
Lisa took a nap in
one of the sleeping
tents.
Board game area
– the scene of Max and
Mona’s twister
tournament.
23

BERLIN
30

The most fruitful and natural
exercise of our minds, in my
opinion, is conversation.
I see in its practice the most
delightful activity of our lives.
[…] If I am contradicted, it
arouses my attention, not my
displeasure; I am drawn to
those who contradict me, who
instruct me: the truth should
be the common cause of us
both.
Michel de Montaigne
In: Michel de Montaigne, Les Essais, 1580. Book Three, Chapter Eight. Quoted
from Montaigne, Michel Eyquem de, Les Essais. ed. P. Villey and V.-L. Saulnier.
Online edition by P. Desan, University of Chicago. https://www.lib.uchicago.edu/
efts/ARTFL/projects/montaigne/.

Berlin
THE SALONS
38

Berlin
39

44

Among the salons for debate, another 14 salons have been smuggled in, in
which the debaters can non-verbally let off steam: studios where visitors
can paint or sew, climbing towers, footbaths, sleeping tents, punching
bags … places for everyone to unwind and continue to ponder, just as
they please. The possibility to go back and forth between the hall and
the salons, as well as between the different atmospheres and activities
offered by each salon, means that people of all generations and from all
kinds of background will be able to while away entire days in the building.
The model studies show an intersecting room that sets the mood for the
debating salon. In the salon behind it, the staggered panes of the intersecting
room are tilted horizontally to arch over the salon. The Kneipp basin is
designed as a place for visitors to relax.
Berlin
45

48

Berlin
49

Berlin
THE MAIN HALL
50

Berlin
51

The areas of the main hall are partly utilized by permanent facilities (citizens’
consultation services, canteen, bar), partly by activities that can be
adapted to demand (in-door playground as a traffic training kindergarten,
play area, Forest of Words) and partly by regular events (film screenings,
dance floor). Large screens can be used for major events to transform the
entire 150 × 100 meter main hall into a convention hall. The bar runs diagonally
through the canteen, which is lit from the south. The ramp leading
to the rooftop landscape separates the Forest of Words from the dance
floor. The block below the traffic training kindergarten houses the canteen
kitchen and the sanitary rooms.
56

Berlin
57

Berlin
THE ROOF
60

Berlin
61

64

Seen from the dike, many of Berlin’s most striking landmarks
cluster around this roof of the republic like stage props: the dome
of the Reichstag …
Berlin
65

… the Federal Chancellery “tent,” the gate-like structure of the train station,
the block of the Charité, the shards of Potsdamer-Platz, the green
sea of the Tiergarten …
66

Berlin
67

The Berlin Salon of the Republic seminar (WS 2018/19) was a didactic
experiment. At least for me, the task structure used to carry it out was
completely untested. Subsequently, I embarked on similar experiments with
varying degrees of success in Wiesbaden, Istanbul, Dhaka, Berlin, Monterrey,
and Minsk – until the pandemic forced us all to completely change tack.
70

The crucial didactic question facing anyone teaching a design seminar is:
individual work versus group work. The proponents of individual work put
forward the benefits of the verifiable acquisition of professional skills, the
high degree of motivation on the part of the students (“seeing themselves
reflected in the design”), and the intense experience of working alone.
After all, they argue, designing is nothing if not permanent soliloquy and
persistent self-criticism. The objectors, on the other hand, point to the
lack of social competence acquired through individual work and allude
somewhat derisively to the fact that students often simply remain trapped
in solitude, learning to wait for the professor‘s corrections instead of cultivating
soliloquy and conducting exploration by means of drafting designs.
Group work, they argue, has the advantage of promoting the acquisition
of social competence as well as the fact that design is always a matter of
social responsibility and is carried out collectively in the architects’ office
anyway. Opponents of group work, on the other hand, argue that the daring
act of “projecting” (i.e., launching a design into empty space and into
an uncertain future) must first be experienced for oneself before it can
be shared, and that motivation decreases when students not only have to
contend with their own lack of experience and competence, but also with
that of others.
Wanting to use one method and yet not disregard the other, design professors
often first have the whole thing designed collectively and then have individual
aspects elaborated by individual students. In my opinion, however,
in terms of the students’ motivation, this is the wrong way round, as they
now have to work to the sometimes bitter end on a design with which they
can often only identify to a limited extent or which they even perceive as
an expression of their lack of assertiveness. It is quite especially the wrong
order for students of interior architecture since they are usually keener on
creating a happy place in a quiet corner than working on large-scale fever
dreams.
Berlin
71

Emma-Herwegh Salon
… although I am still quite far away, I can see how many people are present
due to the open structure of the salon and can also understand the louder
discussions despite the distance. The teal shade of the interlocking frames
catches my eye: And I also find the shape extremely appealing. Like multiple,
fanned picture frames. It is not directly apparent which side the people are
on, as the places where they are sitting or standing are not clearly separated
due to the shape of the salon. The impression I get is of people sitting in a
large and abstract circle around an imaginary campfire, located in the center
of the salon and marked by the overlapping frames. I take a seat on one
of the metal beams. The surface is cool. I’m now in the middle of the salon.
It seems even more abstract and futuristic than it did from a distance …
(C. Reinhard)
… the individual steel beams are positioned at different heights. The lowest
ones are suitable for children to sit on, the middle ones for me, for example.
Because of the frame structure, you can also lean back in the corners. I
am really fascinated by the structure, but I don‘t feel comfortable at all,
because I feel very vulnerable as everyone can see me. There is absolutely
nowhere to hide. My feeling of unease in this room is intensified by how cold
and uncomfortable the steel beams are. I can‘t sit here for longer than ten
minutes. This salon is definitely something for strong, self-confident people,
and not for someone insecure like me … (D. Ritterweger)
78

Fanny-von-Arnstein Salon
… I enter the dimly lit salon hesitantly because I don‘t know exactly what
awaits me inside. I go into the salon through a triangular entrance. My eyes
first have to get used to the darker interior. The only light comes from the
entrance and the slits in the recesses. The streaks of light move across the
floor and walls. My thoughts drift to the origami flower salon and I wonder
if there, too, the incident light dances across the floor and creates shapes …
(C. Reinhard)
… I like cave-like rooms where I can have a wall behind me. The floor is
carpeted. People’s faces vanish into the darkness. Through the darkness,
I can only hear the voices of the people I am talking to. There is no way to
discriminate against anyone based on appearances. This puts me at ease
and I can speak quite openly. I feel comfortable here because no one can
recognize me either … (D. Ritterweger)
… only a small amount of light comes in so you can only make out shadowy
figures, but it‘s enough to see which alcove and bench is still free. I feel safe
because of the anonymity of the room. The alcove makes me feel like I am
being embraced … (J. Hübner)
Berlin
79

Frankfurt am Main
THE SALONS
84

Frankfurt am Main
85

98

Frankfurt am Main
99

Frankfurt am Main
THE FORMATION OF SPACE
100

Frankfurt am Main
101

As for the history of Paulsplatz, I refer you to Google Maps, where it says
in all seriousness that Paulskirche is “a church with a political past.“1 Honi
soit qui mal y pense. On a more serious note, I refer you to the essay by
Peter Cachola Schmal (p. 128).
At this point, let me just say this: What makes Paulsplatz particularly difficult
is the fact that the square is already bordered on four sides, but two of them
have only little effect on the space due to busy streets; that the church turns
its convex, forbidding broadside towards Paulsplatz, whose present shape,
due to the bombing during the war and a lack of ideas, is strangely lifeless
today; and that the church is nevertheless the protagonist of this square and,
due to its history, also deserves to be. It is therefore necessary to create a
building that reshapes and realigns the square, that forms an ensemble with
the church and is not simply its annex. A salon cannot be a mere annex in this
location; the salon of the republic must convey a forward-looking image of
democracy that can stand alongside the historical image presented by Paulskirche.
It goes without saying that a reconstruction of the Alte Börse cannot
satisfy this requirement. The redefinition of Paulsplatz is, both spatially and
semantically, one of the most complex tasks that Frankfurt – a city that has
for decades not exactly suffered a paucity in terms of urban development
challenges – has to face today.
Even in the context of an interior architecture degree program, students
should definitely deal with urban squares – they are, after all, interiors.
They are simply rooms with the sky for a ceiling! And squares are a wonderful
task to teach students the balance of courage and humility that is
peculiar to good designers. Not what you draw and build should be the
protagonist, but what remains: the space!
102

Lageplan M1:500
After removing any self-aggrandizing building sculptures and displacements
of space, six urban development solutions emerged in the seminars,
which appeared plausible and which were then to be examined in terms of
their suitability for interiors:
• Mirroring or variation of an ellipse
• Creation of a corresponding element to the ellipse with another
geometric primary body
• Cube as a calming counterweight to the rotational solid of Paulskirche
with its expressive protrusions
• Layering of horizontal building masses as a contrast to the upright
walls of Paulskirche and their vertical rhythmic structure
• Umbrella over a collection of smaller buildings
• Walk-on-able building sculpture with stairs, podium, and view
Program
At Paulsplatz, there is neither sufficient space for the “full program” that we
proposed for Berlin, nor is it necessary, as we are in the middle of a busy city
center. Paulskirche already has a plenary hall and a permanent exhibition
room. What is required is a medium-sized auditorium for about 200 to 300
people, as well as various debating rooms for 15 to 50 people, a café area
opening onto the square, spaces in between that invite people to linger, and
zones for temporary exhibitions and for childcare, as well as small, enclosed
rooms for consultations, for creating and broadcasting podcasts, and the like.
1 Google Maps (2021): Paulsplatz. https://www.google.com/maps/place/Paulsplatz/@50.1090432,8.
6698209,14.24z/data=!4m5!3m4!1s0x47bd0ea60684d53d:0xd3e9a1eece16ee3!8m2!3d50.1114457!
4d8.6818298 (last accessed: February 25, 2021).
Frankfurt am Main
103

Frankfurt am Main
THE ROOM CONFIGURATIONS
110

Frankfurt am Main
111

… the three-quarter perspective from the southwest presents the building
as a sculpture that can be appropriated in many ways, both inside and out.
124
… the view from Braubachstraße in the east presents the staircase
as an informal gathering place for urban society …

Frankfurt am Main
125

… the view from Römerberg in the south shows the staircase as an
extension and tribune for Frankfurt‘s most important square …
126

What the Spanish Steps
are for Rome,
THE REPUBLICAN
STEPS
could become for Frankfurt.
Frankfurt am Main
127

Michael May
REPRESENTATION OF
SPACE AND SPACES OF
REPRESENTATION
In order to examine more closely the layers of meaning implicit in the title of the designs for the
Salons of the Republic, one must first note that the word “republic” is derived from the Latin “res
publica.” In his Wörterbuch der Philosophie, Fritz Mauthner (1923: 51) points to the fact that this
term was used by Cicero in the plural as an “expression of common language like our public affairs”
(ibid.). When he used it in the singular, however, it became “a concise term for the common being,
the community, or the state” (ibid.). Yet Cicero already anticipated the later change of meaning of the
word, because for Cicero “only where the people take part in government” (ibid.) – which is also what
the architectural designs and the concept of the Salons of the Republic (!) seek to advance – is “the
res publica a real res populi” (ibid.). Mauthner emphasizes in this context that “publicus” is derived
from “populus.” In contrast, in the Latin of the Middle Ages, the urban areas of Italy were known as
republics, regardless of their form of government.
In contrast, the developed city-states of
ancient Greece, in which the sphere of the polis
was shared by all free citizens, are regarded as
the cradle of the democratic form of government,
which, in the concept of the Salons of
the Republic, is to be accompanied by critical
support by means of the architectural stimulus
of “deliberative” forms of “opinion- and
will-formation” (Habermas 1996: 429). Excluded
from this, however, were not only slaves but
also women. Even the master of the house was
not able to be free in his capacity as oikonomos,
as Hannah Arendt emphasizes in reference to
Aristotle (2000), but “only in so far as he had
the power to leave the household and enter the
political realm, where all were equals” (Arendt
1998: 32). In contrast to the house rules of
the oikos, which were based on inequality, for
Arendt this equality within the polis constituted
the very essence of freedom: “To be free meant
[…] neither to rule nor to be ruled” (ibid.). This
is what the Salons of the Republic aspire to
achieve in all their various spatial arrangements.
Similarly to Arendt, Jürgen Habermas
(1989: 3) also concurs with the separation of
oikos and polis in the thinking of the ancient
Greeks. Accordingly, “the realm of necessity
and transitoriness remained […] shamefully
hidden” in the private sphere of the oikos
(Habermas 1989: 3f.), while “that which existed
become revealed” (ibid.: 4) and thus took
on shape only in the light of the public sphere
of the polis in the discussion among citizens.
Oskar Negt (2002: 312ff.) does concede that
Aristotle placed an emphasis on this point in
his Politics. He emphasizes, however, that this
separation between oikos and polis “did not
exist so strictly in antiquity” (ibid.: 312) but
was made “subsequently” (ibid.: 313). Aristotle,
like Xenophon before him, Negt argues, had
discussed them as “problems” and not as an
ideal to strive for. Leaving aside this controversy
regarding the ancient Greeks (May 2017:
18ff.), the aim of the Salons of the Republic is
to overcome this separation of oikos and polis
through architectural stimuli.
134

Although the citizens in the sphere of the
polis interacted in “a realm of freedom and
permanence […] as equals with equals (homoioi)”
(Habermas 1989: 4), Habermas emphasizes
that they simultaneously did their best “to
excel (aristoiein)” (ibid.). In this context, he
points out that the virtues codified by Aristotle
were ones whose test lay in the public sphere
and could there alone receive recognition.
In contrast, the concept of the Salons of the
Republic is based on the assumption that,
through the culture of deliberation inspired
by its various locations and in the course of
diverse conversations and debates, the users
will develop the ability to include the perspective
of others in their own process of opinion,
judgment, and will-formation (Kohlberg 1987).
When Habermas further elaborates that
although “public life, bios politikos, went on
in the market place (agora),” (1993: 3), it was
not confined to a particular locality, since this
“public sphere was constituted in discussion
(lexis) […] as well as in common action (praxis)”
(ibid.), we see that the concept of the Salons
of the Republic also aspires to be effective
far beyond a specific locality – not solely, but
also through digital interconnectedness (see
Lecointe’s essay in this volume).
Habermas sees certain parallels between the
distinctions of “‘gemeinlich’ and ‘sunderlich,’
‘common’ and ‘particular’” (ibid.: 6) stemming
from the tradition of ancient Germanic law
“to the classical one between ‘publicus’ and
‘privatus’” (ibid.) of Roman law. Thus, “[t]he
commons was public, publica; for common use
there was public access to the fountain and
market square – loci communes, loci publici”
(ibid.). Accordingly, the Salons of the Republic
are not only designed to be such public places,
but also offer diverse opportunities and stimuli
for interaction, cooperation, and communality
through various forms of “praxis.” And where
Habermas sees a historical-etymological line
leading from this “common” “to the common
or public welfare (common wealth, public
wealth)” (ibid.), then this too is something the
Salons of the Republic seek to advance.
Habermas shows how this common stands
opposed to the particular as “this specific
meaning of ‘private’ […] reverberates in today’s
equation of special interests with private interests”
(ibid.). According to his reconstruction,
however, precisely this distinction underwent
peculiar shifts in feudal times, insofar as the
particular in the context of the feudal constitution
also referred to “those who possessed
special rights, that is, those with immunities
and privileges” (ibid.) – indeed, “the particular
[…], the exception through every sort of exemption
was the core of the feudal regime and
hence of the realm that was ‘public’” (ibid.) .
Habermas calls this a “representative publicness”
in which “the prince and the estates of
his realm ‘were’ the country and not just its
representatives” (ibid.: 7f.). “[W]edded to personal
attributes such as insignia (badges and
arms), dress (clothing and coiffure), demeanor
(form of greeting and poise), and rhetoric
(form of address and formal speech discourse
in general)” (ibid.: 8), they re-present “their
lordship not for but ‘before’ the people”
(ibid.) at correspondingly prominent places in
specific rituals. Even the German Democratic
Republic’s Palace of the Republic, contrary to
the intentions of its builders, could not completely
liberate itself from this character of a
representative publicness at least in the eyes of
those members of the population who viewed
the government with more skepticism. The
Salons of the Republic, however, whose name
ironically alludes to that very palace, aspire to
be representative public places in a completely
different sense, a point to which we will return
in more detail later.
Michael May 135

(Thimm 2017: 46), representing more of a
pluralization than a decline: seen in this light,
the media logic of the platforms themselves
(e.g., hashtags, retweets, Facebook groups,
forums) promotes the creation of polymedial
“mini-publics” that incorporate the traditional
media, rather than replacing it “There would be
nothing more wrong than underestimating the
power of these smaller groups to influence society.
Many of these digital ‘mini-publics’ draw
on traditional media to the extent that they
create a polymedial space via cross-references
to other media. This space receives greater attention,
without altering the quality of its own
discourse” (Thimm 2017b: 56).
Jürgen Habermas also shares the concerns
about the fragmenting effect of the digital public
sphere. But he also recognizes democratic
potential in the Internet communication of the
World Wide Web, “by allowing the reoccupation
of interactive and deliberative elements
in an unregulated exchange between partners
who interact virtually, but on an equal basis”
(Habermas 2008: 161). Outside of digitization
debates, too, the call for Habermasian-style
deliberative concepts of democracy is becoming
more and more vocal.
A New Understanding of Democracy
In the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (FAZ)
of October 26, 2020, the political scientist Herfried
Münkler, historian Hans Walter Hütter
and the director of the German Architecture
Museum Peter Cachola Schmal proposed the
construction of a “House of Democracy” on
St Paul’s Square in Frankfurt am Main. The
authors believed that this would make up for
the commemorative inferiority of the 70- yearold
St Paul’s Church, the site of the National
Assembly and the cradle of the basic rights of
the German people. The trio argued in their
piece that the inadequacy of the historical
location was due to its reconstruction in 1948:
“As a place of remembrance, it has neither aesthetic
evidence, nor an aura that takes visitors
back into the past,” (Hütter/Münkler/Schmal
October 26, 2020), the authors lamented. The
pending refurbishment of the building, they argued,
should be used as an opportunity not just
to return to the church its aura of a “modern
memorial to democracy,” but also to expand
its role to make the church a “place of learning
and communication” – very much in line with a
“reflexive-deliberative democracy.”
Political scientists Patrizia Nanz and Claus
Leggewie responded to the proposal in the
Frankfurter Rundschau of December 1, 2020,
warning of an “antiquarian tilt” to a “museum-like
visualization of German democratic
history” (December 1, 2020) that they saw
in the proposal of their previous speakers.
In the view of Nanz and Leggewie, a “House
of Democracy” should instead function as a
forum for citizen participation, which the pair
had suggested be a fourth power of the state in
their book Die Konsultative (The Consultative)
(Leggewie, Nanz 2016). They quickly dispense
with the attribute “reflexive,” instead calling
for “a strengthening of deliberative democracy,
that is discussion of arguments, dialogue and
the exchange of views, the patient development
of compromise, the laborious achievement
of consensus through civilized argument.”
(Leggewie/Nanz 2020) However, on one point,
all five authors seem to agree: the liberal model
no longer meets the needs of a contemporary
democracy.
Unlike liberal democratic theory, which
guarantees the liberty of the individual via
negative rights in the sense of non-intervention
by the state, thereby guaranteeing the
“freedom of isolation from the polity” (Ottmann
2006: 318), deliberative democracy sees
its ideal in participation in the polity through
“an argumentative, deliberative style of con-
142

sultation focused on understanding” (Schmidt
2010: 237). Both perspectives present weaknesses
for Thorsten Thiel, if the idea is to
“capture and evaluate the resulting societal
changes in the digital structural shift” (Thiel
2017a: 194). He attributes this ability to the
republican theory of democracy in particular,
which he believes possesses particular intuition
for (1) the power relations in the digital,
(2) the particular role of anonymity and (3)
the significance of the expansion of options for
forming a countervailing power.
(1) In contrast to the liberal perspective, the
republican concept of liberty does not formulate
freedom as being pre-political, but sees the
polity as its precondition. Hannah Arendt views
the situation as follows: “Men can only be free
with reference to one another, only, that is, in
the fields of politics and of the things they do,”
because “[w]here communal existence is not
organized politically […] it is not freedom, but
force of circumstance and self-interest that bind
men together” (Arendt 1961: 191). Republicanism
counters the liberal concept of freedom as
non-intervention, with that of freedom as not
being controlled, which protects against “the
potential to arbitrarily implement a position”
(Thiel 2017a: 196). Applied to the discussion
over surveillance, data collection and the formation
of profiles by corporations in the digital
public sphere, the republican perspective allows
for more fundamental criticism of “monitoring
and control options”: While liberalism sees the
solution as permitting the processing of data
only if voluntary consent has been granted,
republicanism is sensitive to implicit relationships
of compulsion and control: “In the end,
behind voluntary consent is very often the indirect
compulsion to receive the necessary access
to a privatized public sphere” (ibid.: 198)
(2) In the same vein, republican theory is
suitable for defending an element that is not
just closely related to the digital structural
shift, but which has also “long become a de
facto condition of modern societies” (Ibid.:
197): anonymity. “By nature of its mediation
– as expressed by IP addresses, for instance
– digital communication is always pseudonymous
to a certain extent. The spatial freedom
afforded by digitality and the temporal
asynchrony strengthen this impression even
further.” (Ibid.: 206) This feature of digital
communication is a problem for deliberative
democratic theories, because “the personal
commitment to arguments is firmly embedded
within them” (Thiel 2017b: 157). In the
public debate, too, calls for an obligation to
use real names are often heard. However, the
potential for political activism that anonymity
offers particularly for marginalized groups is
overlooked by this view: “Precisely because
an anonymous situation abstracts from the person,
from power and dependencies, anonymity
and anonymization can promote the formation
of a countervailing power.” (Thiel 2017a: 207)
In contrast to liberalism, which “advocates only
for formal access rights,” this potential cannot
be irrelevant to republicanism, as the latter is
interested in “how a political order produces
subjects capable of opinion and articulation”
(ibid.: 201).
(3) The great significance that republicanism
attributes to opposition and countervailing
power is also rooted in this interest. While the
significance of opposition may seem intuitive
for democracy, its practice is coming under
increasing pressure in an age of post-national
interdependencies, a post-democratic emphasis
on the executive and the rise of authoritarian
regimes (Thiel 2015: 273–275). To this corresponds
a “marginal position of the principle of
opposition” (ibid.: 277) in democratic theory.
While opposition in the liberal sense is understood
chiefly in a parliamentarian way and its
positive effects are limited to its function as
Jonas Aaron Lecointe 143

Marion Kamphans
STRENGTHENING DEMOCRACY
THROUGH INTERACTION –
Inspirations from New Museum Work
The Salons of the Republic are intended to be places where people can meet and converse with
those who they would not normally come across. The hope behind initiating a social practice that
cuts across group and socioeconomic lines is that this will contribute to civic education and in turn
to the strengthening of democracy, precisely because the Salons of the Republic provide a communication
space for a diverse public. The aim is to promote discussion of political positions and the
organization of political activities. In the following essay, the opportunities for sociopolitical development
arising from inclusive publics will be outlined, using the example of innovative museum
work. The transferability of corresponding concepts to the idea of the Salons of the Republic will
also be explored.
Cultural Education for Everyone – Museums
in a Transformation Process
For centuries, museums have served as
miniature treasure troves for the world (Donecker
2013: 7), because they collect and display
everyday, ordinary, special, and scandalous
objects from art, culture, nature, technology,
society, and the media. Museums are places
that present all kinds of objects and topics,
while simultaneously providing a potential
interpretation of their cultural significance.
They teach, research, preserve, impart –they
inform their users and communicate with
them, inspiring them to learn, while also irritating
and entertaining them – and no longer
merely physically, but digitally as well. This is
the conventional understanding of how museums
fulfill their educational mandate.
Museums are very popular in Germany, but
their visitor composition reveals a clear social
selectivity. More than 117 million people visited
a museum in 2018, viewing exhibitions
and collections in social history, technology,
natural history, and art museums, as well as
other exhibition halls (Deutscher Museums-
bund 2020: 12–17). With this large number
of visits, museums rank extremely highly in
the art and cultural scene. But their cultural
offerings also still reach only a relatively
homogeneous group – it is mainly people
with higher educational qualifications from
better socioeconomic backgrounds who walk
through the doors of these educational institutions
several times per year (Wegner 2011;
2016).¹ For museums, it remains a challenge
to appeal to new target groups and to attract
them to their cultural offerings. Particularly
underrepresented groups amongst museum
visitors include old and young people, people
with disabilities, less well-educated and socially
disadvantaged people, and people with
migrant backgrounds. For these groups, museums
tend to be somewhat “foreign” places
from a high culture that is unfamiliar to them,
or meeting points for an educated audience
who can knowledgeably walk through museum
halls with the correct demeanor.
The debate over a more socially inclusive
museum – in the sense of allowing cultural
education for everyone – is not a new one. For
152

as long as they have existed, museums have
had to consider how they can meet the external
expectations placed upon them in terms
of their work and objectives. A look at their
history confirms this. But even if museums
have learned how to expand their educational
mandate over recent decades and how they
can actively appeal to visitors, it has taken a
long time for the now commonly understood
understanding of museums as places for imparting
knowledge to be accepted.
An initial attempt to make “temple-like”
museums accessible to a wider audience and
democratize them was made in Germany after
the French Revolution, in the period between
1830 and 1890. Under the Federal German
education reforms in the 1960s and 1970s, the
aim was for museums to ultimately become
“places of learning” and for an emphasis to be
placed on their educational work with visitors.
This model was based on cognitive learning
theories, which assumed that museum knowledge
only needed to be structured well enough
and broken down into the correct doses for it
to enter the heads of museum visitors (Donecker
2013: 7–10).² Various opinions, each
with their own particular emphases, on how
comprehensive the model of a museum as a
communicative space should be were fiercely
debated. The views ranged from Joseph
Beuys’s idea of museum being a place for a
“permanent conference,” through to the idea
that a museum should include “visitor-focused
experiential content” and promote the
development and skills of visitors, not least by
allowing them to experience objects with the
senses and by encouraging in-depth discussions
with others (Wittgens 2005: 18–20).
Only in the 1990s did the concept of the
“visitor-focused museum” gain acceptance,
with the associated understanding of museum-
based cultural work being based on a constructivist
concept of imparting knowledge.
This meant focusing more heavily on the
exising knowledge and interests of visitors.
Since this time, museums have focused more
on interaction than teaching, using communicative
strategies to better explain the
contexts of artistic objects (Donecker 2013:
7–10). Nevertheless, in spite of all attempts
by museums to facilitate more comprehensive
participation by different groups, museum
visits remain socially stratified.
The debate over a museum for everyone
is needed now more than ever, both because
social cohesion is endangered by the “dynamics
of societal disintegration” (Heitmeyer
2018: 146–158) and because the expectations
for inclusive participation have grown. These
expectations are being directed towards
museums and exhibition halls. The conflict
researcher and sociologist Wilhelm Heitmeyer
links both objective restrictions on societal
participation and the lack of recognition with
the concept of dynamics of societal disintegration.
Both levels, objective and subjective, can
be interpreted in a more differentiated form
via three different dimensions (Heitmeyer
2018: 149): In the sociostructural dimension,
the emphasis is placed on participation in material
and cultural terms, such as participation
in work, education, housing, and culture. In
the institutional-participatory dimension, the
opportunities for participation are understood
in terms of public and political processes
relating to opinion formation. These could include
participation in political activities such
as elections, through to formats for citizen
participation. The third dimension describes
how individuals can actively create their own
support and social belonging. In other words:
according to Heitmeyer, the stated dynamic
of societal disintegration causes deprivation
Marion Kamphans 153

IMPRINT
Copyright 2021 by ȷovis Verlag GmbH
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In cooperation with RheinMain University of Applied
Sciences represented by Prof. Holger Kleine
And by the RheinMain University of Applied
Sciences and the architects listed
All rights reserved.
Cover image
Salon of the Republic Berlin, model photograph
Editor
Holger Kleine
Contact
RheinMain University of Applied Sciences
Faculty of Design Computer Science Media
Department of Interior Architecture
Prof. Holger Kleine
Unter den Eichen 5
65195 Wiesbaden
holger.kleine@hs-rm.de
TEAM IMPACT RheinMain
at the RheinMain University of Applied Sciences
Management: Prof. Thomas Heimer, Sandra Speer
Coordination of the Salons of the Republic: Jonas
Aaron Lecointe
Funding provided by the initiative Innovative Hochschulen
of BMBF/GWK, project IMPACT RheinMain
(FKZ: 03IHS071)
TEAM DAM (German Architecture Museum)
Director: Peter Cachola Schmal
Deputy director: Andrea Jürges
Public relations: Brita Köhler, Anna Wegmann
Secretarial support and administration:
Inka Plechaty, Jacqueline Brauer
Building services: Joachim Müller-Rahn,
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Translation
Geoffrey Miller (essays by Lecointe, Kamphans,
Speer; biographies and imprint)
Kathrin Bennett (all other texts)
Editorial design
cüvee – Empathisches Design, Wiesbaden,
Sabine Besjaew
Exhibition design
DESERVE – Raum und Medien Design,
Wiesbaden, Mario Lorenz
Exhibition The Salons of the Republic
at Deutsches Architekturmuseum (DAM) from
June 17 to July 15, 2021
Accompanying events
Vernissage on June 17, 2021
DIALOG IN MUSEUMS #12 on June 22, 2021
Street, Internet, Salon – (No) Room for Debate?
on July 13, 2021
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