Bernard Bolter

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Brandenburger Tor. 1899, 2017. Acrylic gel medium transfer and acrylic paint on canvas, 80 × 80 cm. Berlin.

Brandenburger Tor. 1899

2017

Mixed media on canvas

80cm x 80cm

31 1/2" x 31 1/2"
Medium
Mixed media on canvas
Support
Canvas
Dimensions
/
80cm × 80cm
Scale
Large
Framing
Unframed
Year
2017
Made in
Berlin
Series
A Colorful History

Private collection

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BB-ACH-2017-002

Record fully catalogued via Art/Official

Last updated August 2026

Contribution

This painting establishes the originating logic of the Gates of Perception series — the customs wall gates as outward-facing markers of urban growth, in deliberate contrast to the Cold War wall's logic of enclosure. As the first work made on arrival in Berlin, it represents both a continuity with the San Francisco transfer paintings and the starting point of a deliberate evolution: fully painted here, progressively deconstructed across the sixteen works that follow. The choice of the 1899 photograph positions the painting at the intersection of two timelines — the photograph's moment and the painting's making — while the subject extends that span further, placing contemporary Berlin within the longer history of the city's walls and gates. It is the most publicly recognised work in the Berlin body of work, and the image that made the less obvious subjects of the series possible.

About the work

A 1899 photograph of the Brandenburg Gate, looking west along the walkway, transferred onto canvas and painted with flat acrylic colour fields — the first painting in the Gates of Perception series, and the originating work of Bernard Bolter's Berlin practice. Brandenburger Tor. 1899 is a transfer painting on canvas, 80 × 80 cm, made in a rented studio on Reichenberger Strasse, Kreuzberg, Berlin in early 2017 — the first work completed after Bolter's relocation from San Francisco. A photograph of the Brandenburg Gate taken in 1899 is transferred via acrylic gel medium directly into the canvas surface and painted with flat colour fields using a palette calibrated to Berlin's character at the time: notably more muted than the San Francisco works that preceded it. The canvas is fully painted — no process stages exposed — placing it at the beginning of a deliberate arc that would see the technique progressively deconstructed across the sixteen paintings of the Gates of Perception series. The series maps the locations of the original Berlin customs wall gates — the Akzisemauer — which predate the Cold War wall by over a century. The Brandenburg Gate is the only one of these gates still standing, making it both the literal and symbolic starting point. The discovery that the customs wall gates overlapped with the Cold War wall, and that their names persist in U-Bahn stations across the city (Kottbusser Tor, Hallesches Tor), prompted a different way of reading Berlin's divisions — one in which the Cold War wall appears as an imposition over a longer, more organic urban history that the city is visibly returning to. The 1899 photograph was selected from a large pool of available images for its compositional energy: the walkway draws the eye toward a centred gate with a directness that anchors the painted fields around it. The work sold at the Kunstmarkt at Museumsinsel, Berlin, in 2023, and is now in a private collection in the Netherlands. It remains the most recognised image Bolter has made of Berlin.

Intent

To begin mapping the locations of the original Berlin customs wall gates — the Akzisemauer — starting with the Brandenburg Gate, the only one still standing. The discovery that the customs wall gates overlapped with the Cold War wall, and that many U-Bahn stations still carry the names of those gates (Kottbusser Tor, Hallesches Tor), made the subject feel alive and present rather than purely historical. The series emerged from wanting to see the Cold War wall in a longer timeline — one that preceded it and continued after it.

Direct inspiration

Selected from a large pool of available historical photographs of the Brandenburg Gate on Wikimedia Commons. The 1899 image was chosen for its compositional energy — the walkway creating movement toward a centred gate, giving the photograph a natural focus that worked with the painted fields around it.

Making

Moving to Berlin was a conscious decision to create the conditions for experimentation. In San Francisco, the series had started selling — but the cost of living meant you had to push what was working and only that. Berlin offered the space to push toward something, to fail, and to experiment without that financial pressure. This painting sits at the beginning of that move — made in a month-long studio sublet on Reichenberger Strasse before fully relocating. The desire to progress and not repeat was already there; Berlin made it possible to act on it.

Context of making

Still the most iconic Berlin image in the body of work — the small print version was consistently the most popular at the Kunstmarkt, particularly with tourists for whom the other gates didn't carry the same recognition. The Brandenburg Gate here functions the way the Cliff House does in the San Francisco work: the image that lands first, that earns the series its entry point, and that makes the less obvious subjects possible. There may be a pattern in this — finding the iconic image in each city, and using it as the threshold before going deeper.

Where it went

The painting exceeded expectations — as the first in the series it established the conceptual foundation, but its reach as an image went further than anticipated. It became the most iconic Berlin work in the body of work, consistently the most sought-after at the Kunstmarkt. That level of recognition was not the goal, but it confirmed the Brandenburg Gate as the right starting point.

In the practice

Made during a period when Berlin was visibly reassembling itself — the customs wall gates, still legible in the U-Bahn station names and in the logic of the streets, felt like evidence of a city returning to its own shape. The customs wall had grown organically with Berlin; the Cold War wall was imposed over it, inorganically and deliberately. Watching the Cold War wall's influence fade — in the urban fabric, in how the city was reconnecting — made the older layer more visible. The customs wall still made sense in the city. The Cold War wall never really defined it.

Process

Made during a month-long studio sublet on Reichenberger Strasse, Kreuzberg, before relocating to Berlin. The first in the Gates of Perception series. Palette developed work by work — earlier Berlin paintings had carried over the brighter San Francisco colour palette, which felt wrong for the city at the time. The yellow walkway emerged during painting rather than being planned, arriving as the dominant colour decision for this work.

Why these materials

The acrylic gel medium transfer technique was already developed in San Francisco — photograph and paint coexisting on the same surface as an organic way of working, not a decision made for this series. The first eight Gates of Perception paintings, including this one, use the technique fully: historical photograph transferred and canvas painted completely. Returning to Berlin in 2018 for the second half of the series, no historical photographs existed for the remaining gates, so contemporary photographs were taken instead. The painting process was then progressively deconstructed — partially in the next four, extensively in the final four — exposing process stages that would normally be covered. This was deliberate: an interest in paintings at the point of incompletion, without stopping there and calling it finished. The series was conceived as a progression, not just a concept — a way of working the technique out fully while building toward deconstruction. The European context felt more open to that kind of conceptual and formal evolution.

What this isn't

After a few earlier paintings that felt too colourful for Berlin, there was a conscious decision to pull the palette back — Berlin in 2016/2017 was notably more muted than San Francisco, and each city had its own character that needed to be reflected in the colour. The brighter San Francisco palette was something to move away from, not carry over.

In the series

CORRECTION, sourced from the Oranienburger Tor . 1867 session (2026-08-04): the deconstruction arc across Gates of Perception is NOT a clean split between a first batch of eight 'fully painted' works and a second batch of eight that introduced deconstruction. Oranienburger Tor . 1867 — one of this same first-eight batch, painted in the same Reichenberger Straße studio sublet during the same 2017 trip as this painting — contains a deliberate, conscious first test of the deconstruction approach (an intentionally unfinished lower-left corner: bare canvas, visible pencil sketch, raw brushstroke curb edge). The deconstruction impulse was therefore present from the start of the series, already forming around the idea of the move to Berlin, and this record's prior framing of deconstruction beginning only in the second half of the series should be read alongside that correction. See Oranienburger Tor . 1867 for the full account.

Source material

Historical photograph of the Brandenburg Gate, 1899, sourced from Wikimedia Commons. Acrylic gel medium for transfer. Acrylic paint for colour fields.


Richard Hamilton is the closest single reference for the transfer painting series — recommended repeatedly at the Gerrit Rietveld Akademie but not fully understood until a retrospective at the Reina Sofía, Madrid, not long before the Gates of Perception series began. The collage logic, photographic material coexisting with paint, and the interest in how images circulate were the relevant connections. Sigmar Polke and Gerhard Richter are also present as references for the layering of photographic and painted surfaces — the question of what each medium does to the other. The Gates of Perception series arrives at this conversation from a different direction than those painters: not from painting toward photography, but from street documentation and transfer technique toward a deliberately conceptual body of work.


Brandenburg GateGates of PerceptionBerlin customs wallAkzisemauertransfer paintingacrylic gel mediumhistorical photographurban historycity palettesorganic vs imposed divisionCold War wallseries originKreuzberg studioflat colour fieldsprocess deconstructioniconic imageRichard Hamiltonseamless integrationWikimedia Commons sourceprivate collection

Vision Analysis

The composition is a square field divided horizontally into two nearly equal registers: an upper half of flat, unmodulated pale sky blue with no cloud or gradient, and a lower half where a black-and-white photographic scene is embedded within hard-edged planes of painted color. The photographic passage sits at the center of the horizon line — a broad public square seen at ground level, anchored by a neoclassical gateway with a colonnade and a sculptural group of horses and a chariot at its crown, flanked by lower classical buildings and a tall ornate lamppost just left of center. The photograph does not fill its register; painted planes crop into it from both sides — a grey block with a dark hedge-like band at left, a warm terracotta-orange block abutting a near-black block at right — so the photographic space reads as a window held open between abstractions. The ground plane is where paint takes over most assertively. A wedge of pale cream fans forward from the photograph's center to the bottom edge, widening as it comes, like a beam of light or a carpet unrolled toward the viewer, while flat mid-grey fields flank it on both sides. Photographic figures — pedestrians in long dark dresses, frock coats, bowler hats, several carrying parasols, and a horse-drawn carriage in the middle distance — walk out of the photographic zone and onto this painted ground, their grayscale bodies casting no shadows on the cream and grey. The figures nearest the viewer are the largest and most isolated, spaced like notes across the wedge. The coexistence of moments here is quiet but structural: the photographic material — the dress, the parasols, the carriage, the fine grain — belongs unmistakably to the turn of the twentieth century, while the flat color planes that hold it are contemporary in their crispness and matte evenness, closer to hard-edge abstraction or architectural rendering than to anything in the photograph's own era. The painted blocks at left and right occupy the positions where buildings would continue, as if the present had replaced the photograph's periphery with color swatches, leaving only the central monument and its crowd intact. Nothing blends: the seam between photograph and paint is exact, and the figures crossing it carry their period with them onto the abstract ground. Technically, the photographic areas show fine, even reproduction with slight softness consistent with an enlarged historical print, and the transfer or printing process leaves faint texture visible in the sky field on close inspection. The painted planes are hard-edged and matte, with clean ruled seams; the cream wedge's edges are perfectly straight, giving the light-beam reading a constructed, diagrammatic quality rather than an atmospheric one. What resists confident description is the status of the cream wedge: it behaves simultaneously as cast light entering from the gateway, as a road or path, and as a purely formal division of the ground plane, and the image supports all three without settling. Similarly ambiguous is the dark green band at left — hedge, shadow, or painted stripe — and whether the grey planes flanking the wedge are pavement in shadow or simply paint refusing to depict anything at all.

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