Article:

PRORA, Germany—On a 2.8-mile stretch of sundrenched coastland in this small seaside town stands the remains of what was once among the Nazis’ most ambitious construction projects: Prora. The sprawling complex of nearly identical buildings was envisioned as a working-class vacation spot for up to 20,000 people before the regime put the project on hold in 1939. 
  
 Now, after decades of decay, the site operated by the Third Reich, the Soviets and the East Germans over the years is being converted into hotels and apartments. The... ||||| Built by the Third Reich in the run-up to the second world war, the resort at Prora, on the island of Rügen, Germany, was a Nazi vision of tourism. Happy, healthy Aryans would stay and play at the 10,000-room complex on the Baltic sea, eating, swimming and even bowling for the Führer. Think Hitler’s Cancun. 
  
 But 25 years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, the complex nicknamed the Colossus of Prora is part of a growing debate in modern Germany that pits commercialism against Vergangenheitsbewältigung – the German word for how the country should come to terms with its dark past. 
  
 Blocks of six-story buildings stretching for 4.5km went up before war slowed construction, leaving an unfinished hulk that was later retrofitted into training grounds and housing for East German soldiers. But a group of investors in this seaside town is now doing what the Nazis never could: realising the site’s final stage of transformation into a vacation wonderland. Large parts of the complex are being gutted and rebuilt into developments, including one called New Prora that will house luxury beachfront condominiums – half of which have been sold – as well as an upscale hotel and spa. 
  
 But it’s not just the cashing in on a major Nazi landmark that troubles opponents. In a sense, some argue, the renovation is also fulfilling the Third Reich’s initial plan to turn the colossus into a massive tourism hub. In promotional material, developers are praising the original project – whose design is believed to have been chosen by Hitler – as a “world-famous monument” recognised in its day for “award-winning architecture.” Critics say their plans also may wash away many of the elements that provided the reason for preserving the colossus in the first place. 
  
 “These are not harmless buildings,” said Jürgen Rostock, co-founder for the Prora documentation centre. “The original purpose for Hitler was the construction of (a resort) in preparation for the war to come. This way of dealing with the building trivialises it and affirms the Nazi regime.” 
  
 The facades of some blocks, for instance, are being brightened by dozens of quaint sea-facing balconies, changing the nature of the imposing, austere architecture that stood as a monument to insatiable militarism. In addition, the one documentation centre at the site explaining the Big Brother-esque Strength Through Joy program – a Nazi effort to provide affordable fun to workers living the National Socialist dream – may be moved to the fringes of the complex and away from moneyed vacationers or, some fear, abandoned altogether. 
  
 Facebook Twitter Pinterest The Prora resort is earmarked for redevelopment as holiday apartments, condominiums, a hotel and a spa. Photograph: Stefan Sauer/Corbis 
  
 Recriminations of the Third Reich are far and wide in modern Germany, with war-era crime history taught from elementary school onward and a pacifist national identity built largely on a rejection of the past. The Prora project highlights the always-thorny question here of how to deal with the most tangible relic of Germany’s troubled past: Nazi architecture. 
  
 In the years after the war, some Nazi-era structures were preserved as monumental testaments to an inhuman regime, while others were pragmatically transformed into offices, army barracks and spaces for other uses. The Berlin stadium built for Hitler’s 1936 Olympic Games is now home to the Hertha Berlin soccer club. The Detlev-Rohwedder-Haus – former home of Hermann Göring’s Ministry of Aviation – now houses a branch of Germany’s finance ministry. 
  
 Yet opponents in some circles – particularly historians and Jewish groups – are growing increasingly uncomfortable with projects that smack too much of commercialisation or appear to slight history. In Berlin, for instance, a lavish mall opened in September on the site of a former department store whose Jewish owners were dispossessed by the Nazis. 
  
 “The site has been redeveloped with abundant references to the glorious days of the department store’s best years, but without any display that references the fact that the original owners were forced to relinquish ownership and flee,” said Deidre Berger, director of the American Jewish Committee’s Berlin office. 
  
 In the mountainous Eifel region of western Germany, meanwhile, a former Nazi training ground is undergoing a $52 million facelift, adding a convention centre and observation deck. The facility’s website suggests a blend of historical remembrance and eco-tourism, bluntly stating, “We don’t consider leisure activities and taking a critical look at the history to be irreconcilable.” 
  
 After the preservation of so many former Nazi buildings, some argue that enough is enough, saying the time has come to either let them waste away or, in some instances, consider tearing them down. Septical historians, for instance, are questioning plans in Nuremberg to spend $100 million on the renovation of the Nazi Party Rally Grounds, where Hitler proudly watched marches of his goose-stepping hordes. 
  
 Facebook Twitter Pinterest Promotional signs advertise luxury apartments. Photograph: Anthony Faiola/Washington Post 
  
 “My argument, and the argument of quite a few architectural historians, is: Why renovate such a monument?” said Norbert Frei, a historian at the Friedrich Schiller University of Jena. “One could also give it to a controlled decay. Leave it as is, and allow what will happen to it to happen. It’s in such bad shape that you have to do rather a lot to it. It’s almost like building it anew.” 
  
 Enter the Colossus of Prora. 
  
 The project was masterminded in the 1930s by Robert Ley, a top Hitler lieutenant. He led the Strength Through Joy effort, which was meant to be a cornerstone of the resort here. 
  
 At picturesque Prora, thousands of small, heated rooms facing the sea would recharge the minds and bodies of the German masses, preparing vacationers for life as the masters of Europe. They would enjoy communal meals and common entertainment areas in the embodiment of Nazi fun. 
  
 Yet the colossus never lived up to Hitler’s ambitions. Despite the importation of forced Polish labour to help build it faster, the resort became a low priority as the second world war raged. It was left unfinished and was briefly claimed by the Red Army before being redeveloped into barracks for use by the East German military. 
  
 After reunification, historic preservationists and other government officials made determinations that the colossus was too expensive and architecturally significant to tear down. So the government sold its various blocks to developers. A youth hostel opened in part of the complex in 2011. But the complex is now in the midst of a full-blown redevelopment, with the first owners of luxury holiday homes moving in over the summer. 
  
 Because the property is considered historic, the German government is effectively subsidising sales. Prices in the New Prora development, for instance, range from $100,000 to $1.3m. But buyers subject to German income tax can receive federal credits worth half the purchase price of a unit. 
  
 Gerd Grochowiak, managing director of one of the site’s developers, Irisgerd real estate, dismissed critics of the site’s redevelopment, saying he sees nothing wrong with commercialisation there. 
  
 After all, he said, the structure was “always about tourism, so it doesn’t have such a negative history.” 
  
 Stephanie Kirchner also contributed to this article 
  
 This article appeared in Guardian Weekly, which incorporates material from the Washington Post |||||
What is a summary?
– Almost 80 years after Adolf Hitler picked a design for a massive seaside resort for weary German workers to recharge their batteries, the Prora complex is finally popular. The mammoth Nazi-era complex on a Baltic Sea island is being redeveloped into apartments and hotels—and with the German property market heating up, buyers seem willing to ignore its tainted past, reports the Wall Street Journal. "I am happy to see that this building is being made into nice vacation apartments. It was always ruins," a buyer who plans to move in this fall tells the Journal. "The buildings were built in a dark, bad time. Now they are being transformed." The Nazis put the project on hold in 1939 and the complex, designed to accommodate 20,000 people, was used by the Soviet Union and the German military after the war before being left to decay for years. The transformation comes amid a wider redevelopment of Nazi-era buildings into residential properties, and although it has been dubbed "Hitler's resort," developers dismiss controversy around the Prora project. It was "always about tourism, so it doesn't have such a negative history," the director of one of the site's developers tells the Guardian, which notes that since the property has been deemed historic, the German government is subsidizing sales. (Archaeologists say they've unearthed a Nazi hideout deep in a South American jungle.)
Artikel: PRORA, Tyskland – På en 2, 8 mil lång sträcka av soldränkt kustland i denna lilla kuststad står resterna av vad som en gång var bland nazisternas mest ambitiösa byggprojekt: Prora. Det spretande komplexet av nästan identiska byggnader föreställdes som en arbetarklass semesterplats för upp till 20 000 personer innan regimen lade projektet på is 1939. Nu, efter årtionden av förfall, håller platsen som drivs av Tredje riket, Sovjet och Östtyskarna under årens lopp på att byggas om till hotell och lägenheter. Det tredje riket byggdes upp inför andra världskriget, och orten i Prora på ön Rügen i Tyskland var en nazistisk vision av turism. Glada, friska arier skulle stanna och spela på 10 000 rum komplexet på Östersjön, äta, simma och även bowling för Führern. Tänk på Hitlers Cancun. Men 25 år efter Berlinmurens fall är det komplexa smeknamnet Colossus of Prora en del av en växande debatt i det moderna Tyskland som sätter kommersialismen mot Vergangenheitsbewältigung – det tyska ordet för hur landet ska komma till rätta med sitt mörka förflutna. Block av sexvåningshus som sträckte sig i 4,5 km gick upp innan kriget saktade ner byggandet, vilket lämnade en ofullbordad hulk som senare eftermonterades till övningsfält och bostäder för östtyska soldater. Men en grupp investerare i denna stad vid havet gör nu vad nazisterna aldrig kunde: inser platsens sista stadium av omvandling till ett semesterlandskap. Stora delar av komplexet rensas och byggs om till utveckling, bland annat en som heter New Prora och som kommer att inrymma lyxiga strandnära bostadsrätter – varav hälften har sålts – samt ett exklusivt hotell och spa. Men det är inte bara inkasseringen av ett stort nazistiskt landmärke som bekymrar motståndarna. På sätt och vis, hävdar vissa, uppfyller renoveringen också Tredje rikets ursprungliga plan att förvandla kolossen till en massiv turistknutpunkt. I reklammaterial prisar utvecklare det ursprungliga projektet – vars design tros ha valts av Hitler – som ett ”världsberömt monument” som på sin tid erkändes för ”belönad arkitektur”. Kritiker säger att deras planer också kan tvätta bort många av de element som gav anledning till att bevara kolossen i första hand. – Det här är inte ofarliga byggnader, säger Jürgen Rostock, medgrundare till Prora dokumentationscenter. – Det ursprungliga syftet för Hitler var att bygga (en semesterort) som förberedelse för det kommande kriget. Detta sätt att hantera byggnaden trivialiserar den och bekräftar nazistregimen.” Fasaderna på vissa kvarter, till exempel, ljusnar av dussintals pittoreska balkonger som vetter mot havet, vilket förändrar karaktären på den imponerande, strama arkitektur som stod som ett monument över omättlig militarism. Dessutom kan det enda dokumentationscenter på platsen som förklarar Big Brother-esk Strength Through Joy-programmet – ett nazistiskt försök att ge överkomligt nöje till arbetare som lever den nationalsocialistiska drömmen – flyttas till utkanterna av komplexet och bort från penningbelönade semesterfirare eller, någon rädsla, överges helt och hållet. Facebook Twitter Pinterest Prora resort är öronmärkt för ombyggnad som semesterlägenheter, bostadsrätter, hotell och ett spa. Fotografi: Stefan Sauer/Corbis Tredje rikets beskyllningar finns vida omkring i det moderna Tyskland, med krigstida brottshistoria undervisad från grundskolan och en pacifistisk nationell identitet byggd till stor del på ett förkastande av det förflutna. Prora-projektet belyser den alltid taggiga frågan här om hur man ska hantera den mest påtagliga reliken från Tysklands oroliga förflutna: nazistisk arkitektur. Under åren efter kriget bevarades vissa Nazi-era-strukturer som monumentala testamenten till en omänsklig regim, medan andra pragmatiskt omvandlades till kontor, armékaserner och utrymmen för andra ändamål. Berlinstadion som byggdes inför Hitlers olympiska spel 1936 är nu hemmaarena för fotbollsklubben Hertha Berlin. Detlev-Rohwedder-Haus – tidigare hem för Hermann Görings luftfartsministerium – hyser nu en gren av Tysklands finansministerium. Ändå blir motståndarna i vissa kretsar – särskilt historiker och judiska grupper – alltmer obekväma med projekt som slår för mycket av kommersialiseringen eller framstår som något historia. I Berlin, till exempel, öppnade ett påkostat köpcentrum i september på platsen för ett tidigare varuhus vars judiska ägare blev avsatta av nazisterna. “Sajten har byggts om med rikliga referenser till de härliga dagarna i varuhusets bästa år, men utan någon som helst uppvisning som hänvisar till det faktum att de ursprungliga ägarna var tvungna att avstå från ägande och fly,” sade Deidre Berger, direktör för den amerikanska judiska kommitténs kontor i Berlin. I det bergiga Eifelområdet i västra Tyskland genomgår under tiden en före detta nazistisk övningsbana en ansiktslyftning värd 52 miljoner dollar, och man lägger till ett konventcentrum och ett observationsdäck. På anläggningens webbplats föreslås en blandning av historisk hågkomst och ekoturism, rakt på sak: “Vi anser inte att fritidsaktiviteter och att ta en kritisk titt på historien är oförsonligt.” Efter bevarandet av så många tidigare nazistiska byggnader, hävdar vissa att det räcker, säger tiden är inne att antingen låta dem slösa bort eller, i vissa fall, överväga att riva ner dem. Septiska historiker ifrågasätter till exempel planerna i Nürnberg på att lägga 100 miljoner dollar på renoveringen av nazistpartiet Rally Grounds, där Hitler stolt bevakade marscher av sina gåsstegande horder. Facebook Twitter Pinterest Reklamskyltar annonserar lyxlägenheter. Foto: Anthony Faiola/Washington Post – Mitt argument, och argumentet från en hel del arkitekturhistoriker, är: Varför renovera ett sådant monument? säger Norbert Frei, historiker vid Friedrich Schillers universitet i Jena. — Man skulle också kunna ge den till ett kontrollerat förfall. Låt det vara som det är, och låt det hända. Det är i så dåligt skick att man måste göra ganska mycket åt det. Det är nästan som att bygga det på nytt.” Ange Colossus av Prora. Projektet mästerligt under 1930-talet av Robert Ley, en topp Hitlerlöjtnant. Han ledde Strength Through Joy-insatsen, som var tänkt att vara en hörnsten i orten här. På pittoreska Prora skulle tusentals små uppvärmda rum mot havet ladda de tyska massornas sinnen och kroppar och förbereda semesterfirare för livet som Europas herrar. De skulle njuta av gemensamma måltider och gemensamma underhållningsområden i förkroppsligandet av nazistiskt nöje. Ändå levde kolossen aldrig upp till Hitlers ambitioner. Trots importen av tvångsarbete från Polen för att hjälpa till att bygga upp det snabbare, blev orten en låg prioritet när andra världskriget rasade. Den lämnades ofullbordad och hävdades kort av Röda armén innan den byggdes om till kaserner för användning av den östtyska militären. Efter återföreningen gjorde historiska konservativister och andra regeringstjänstemän fast beslut att kolossen var för dyr och arkitektoniskt betydande för att rivas. Regeringen sålde därför sina olika block till utvecklare. Ett vandrarhem öppnade i en del av komplexet 2011. Men komplexet befinner sig nu mitt i en fullskalig ombyggnad, där de första ägarna av lyxhus flyttar in över sommaren. Eftersom fastigheten anses vara historisk subventionerar den tyska regeringen i praktiken försäljningen. Priserna i New Prora utveckling, till exempel, varierar från $ 100.000 till $ 1,3 miljoner. Men köpare som omfattas av tysk inkomstskatt kan få federala krediter som är värda halva inköpspriset för en enhet. Gerd Grochowiak, verkställande direktör för en av webbplatsens utvecklare, Irisgerd Real Estate, avfärdade kritiker av webbplatsens ombyggnad, säger att han inte ser något fel med kommersialisering där. När allt kommer omkring, sade han, strukturen var “alltid om turism, så det inte har en så negativ historia.” Stephanie Kirchner bidrog också till denna artikel Denna artikel dök upp i Guardian Weekly, som innehåller material från Washington Post <unk> <unk> Vad är en sammanfattning?
Article: PRORA, Germany – On a 2.5-mile stretch of sun-drenched coastal land in this small coastal town stands the remains of what was once among the Nazis' most ambitious construction projects: Prora. The sprawling complex of almost identical buildings was envisioned as a working class holiday site for up to 20,000 people before the regime put the project on hold in 1939. Now, after decades of decay, the site run by the Third Reich, the Soviets, and the East Germans over the years is being converted into hotels and apartments. The Third Reich was built up for World War II, and the town of Prora on the island of Rügen, Germany, was a Nazi vision of tourism. Happy, healthy Aryans would stay and play at the 10,000 room complex on the Baltic Sea, eat, swim and even bowling for the Führer. Think of Hitler's Cancun. But 25 years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, the complex nickname Colossus of Prora is part of a growing debate in modern Germany that puts commercialism against Vergangenheitsbewältigung – the German word for how the country should come to terms with its dark past. Blocks of six-story buildings extending for 4.5 km went up before the war slowed down construction, leaving an unfinished hulk which was later retrofitted to practice fields and housing for East German soldiers. But a group of investors in this town by the sea are now doing what the Nazis never could: realizing the last stage of the site's transformation into a holiday landscape. Much of the complex is cleared and converted to development, including one called New Prora which will house luxurious beachfront condominiums – half of which have been sold – as well as an exclusive hotel and spa. But it is not just the collection of a large Nazi landmark that concerns opponents. In a way, some claim, the renovation also fulfills the original plan of the Third Reich to turn the colossus into a massive tourist hub. In promotional material, developers praise the original project – whose design is believed to have been chosen by Hitler – as a “world-famous monument” recognized in its time for “winning architecture.” Critics say that their plans can also wash away many of the elements that gave cause to preserve the colossus in the first place. “These are not harmless buildings,” says Jürgen Rostock, co-founder of Prora Documentation Centre. “The original purpose of Hitler was to build (a resort) in preparation for the coming war. This way of handling the building trivializes it and confirms the Nazi regime.” The facades of some quarters, for example, are brightened by dozens of picturesque balconies facing the sea, changing the character of the impressive, tight architecture that stood as a monument to insatiable militarism. In addition, the only documentation center on the site that explains the Big Brother-esk Strength Through Joy program—a Nazi attempt to provide affordable pleasure to workers living the National Socialist dream—can be moved to the fringes of the complex and away from money-winning holidaymakers or, any fear, abandoned altogether. Facebook Twitter Pinterest Prora resort is earmarked for conversion as holiday apartments, condominiums, hotels and a spa. Photograph: Stefan Sauer/Corbis The Third Reich's accusations are widely found in modern Germany, with wartime crime history taught from primary school and a pacifist national identity built largely on a rejection of the past. The Prora project highlights the ever-thorny question here of how to deal with the most tangible relic from Germany's troubled past: Nazi architecture. In the years after the war, some Nazi-era structures were preserved as monumental wills into an inhuman regime, while others were pragmatically transformed into offices, army barracks, and spaces for other purposes. The Berlin Stadium built for Hitler's 1936 Olympic Games is now home to the Hertha Berlin football club. Detlev-Rohwedder-Haus – formerly home to Hermann Göring's Ministry of Aviation – now houses a branch of Germany's Ministry of Finance. Yet in some circles, particularly historians and Jewish groups, opponents are becoming increasingly uncomfortable with projects that beat too much of commercialization or appear to be some history. In Berlin, for example, a lavish shopping center opened in September at the site of a former department store whose Jewish owners were deposed by the Nazis. “The site has been rebuilt with abundant references to the glorious days of the best years of the department store, but without any display referring to the fact that the original owners had to renounce ownership and escape,” said Deidre Berger, director of the office of the American Jewish Committee in Berlin. Meanwhile, in the mountainous Eifel area of western Germany, a former Nazi training course undergoes a $52 million facelift, adding a convention center and an observation deck. On the site of the facility, a mixture of historical remembrance and ecotourism is proposed, bluntly speaking: “We do not consider leisure activities and taking a critical look at history to be irreconcilable.” After the preservation of so many former Nazi buildings, some claim that it is sufficient, saying the time is right either to let them waste or, in some cases, consider tearing them down. Septic historians, for example, question plans in Nuremberg to spend $100 million on the renovation of the Nazi party Rally Grounds, where Hitler proudly guarded marches of his goose-stepping hordes. Facebook Twitter Pinterest Advertising signs advertise luxury apartments. Photo: Anthony Faiola/Washington Post – My argument, and the argument from a lot of architectural historians, is: Why renovate such a monument? says Norbert Frei, historian at Friedrich Schiller University in Jena. — It could also be given to a controlled decay. Let it be as it is, and let it happen. It's in such bad shape that you have to do a lot about it. It’s almost like building it again.” Enter the Colossus of Prora. The project masterful in the 1930s by Robert Ley, a top Hitler lieutenant. He led the Strength Through Joy effort, which was supposed to be a cornerstone of the locality here. On picturesque Prora, thousands of small heated rooms against the sea would charge the minds and bodies of the German masses and prepare holidaymakers for life as masters of Europe. They would enjoy communal meals and communal entertainment areas in the embodiment of Nazi pleasure. Yet the Colossians never lived up to Hitler's ambitions. Despite imports of forced labour from Poland to help build it up faster, the town became a low priority when World War II collapsed. It was left unfinished and briefly claimed by the Red Army before being converted into barracks for use by the East German military. After reunification, historic conservatives and other government officials made a firm decision that the colossus was too expensive and architecturally significant to be demolished. The government therefore sold its various blocks to developers. A hostel opened in part of the complex in 2011. But the complex is now in the middle of a full-scale reconstruction, where the first owners of luxury houses move in over the summer. As the property is considered historic, the German Government effectively subsidises the sale. Prices in New Prora development, for example, range from $100,000 to $1.3 million. However, buyers who are subject to German income tax may receive federal credits worth half the purchase price of a unit. Gerd Grochowiak, executive director of one of the site's developers, Irisgerd Real Estate, dismissed critics of the site's reconstruction, saying he sees nothing wrong with commercialization there. After all, he said, the structure was “always about tourism, so it doesn’t have such a negative history.” Stephanie Kirchner also contributed to this article This article appeared in the Guardian Weekly, which contains material from the Washington Post <unk> <unk> What is a summary?
– Nästan 80 år efter att Adolf Hitler valt en design för en massiv badort för trötta tyska arbetare att ladda sina batterier, Prora komplexet är äntligen populär. Det mammuta Nazi-era komplexet på en Östersjöö håller på att byggas om till lägenheter och hotell – och med den tyska fastighetsmarknadens uppvärmning verkar köparna villiga att ignorera dess förorenade förflutna, rapporterar Wall Street Journal. "Jag är glad att se att denna byggnad görs till fina semesterlägenheter. Det var alltid ruiner", berättar en köpare som planerar att flytta i höst. "Byggnaderna byggdes i en mörk, dålig tid. Nu håller de på att förvandlas." Nazisterna lade projektet på is 1939 och komplexet, avsett att rymma 20 000 personer, användes av Sovjetunionen och den tyska militären efter kriget innan det lämnades att förfalla i flera år. Omvandlingen sker i en bredare ombyggnad av byggnader från Nazi-era till bostadsfastigheter, och även om den har kallats "Hitler's resort" avfärdar utvecklarna kontroverser kring Prora-projektet. Det var "alltid om turism, så det har inte en sådan negativ historia," berättar chefen för en av webbplatsens utvecklare Guardian, som noterar att eftersom fastigheten har bedömts som historisk, den tyska regeringen subventionerar försäljningen. (Arkeologer säger att de har grävt upp ett nazistiskt gömställe djupt inne i en sydamerikansk djungel.)
“Almost 80 years after Adolf Hitler chose a design for a massive seaside resort for tired German workers to recharge their batteries, the Prora complex is finally popular. The mammuta Nazi-era complex on a Baltic Sea island is being converted into apartments and hotels – and with the heating of the German real estate market, buyers seem willing to ignore its contaminated past, reports the Wall Street Journal. "I'm glad to see that this building is made into nice holiday apartments. It was always ruins," says a buyer who plans to move this fall. "The buildings were built in a dark, bad time. Now they're turning." The Nazis put the project on hold in 1939 and the complex, designed to accommodate 20,000 people, was used by the Soviet Union and the German military after the war before being left to decay for several years. The conversion takes place in a wider conversion of buildings from Nazi-era to residential properties, and although it has been called "Hitler's resort", the developers dismiss controversy surrounding the Prora project. It was "always about tourism, so it doesn't have such a negative history," the head of one of the website's developer Guardian, tells that notes that because the property has been assessed as historic, the German government subsidises the sale. (Archaeologists say they've dug up a Nazi hideout deep inside a South American jungle.)