FEATURE: contain't
Long breath instead of solid ground:
How contain’t fights for space to create alternative culture in Stuttgart
For several years now, we have been observing how German club culture is changing, and with it the entire urban cultural landscape. As cities become denser, new buildings shoot up into the sky and investors move into new luxury neighbourhoods, there is less and less space for cultural projects. Independent initiatives – from clubs and cultural associations to collectives – are fighting for their existence. Rents are rising, temporary uses are expiring, and bureaucracy is making it almost impossible for many to secure long-term locations.
But how long can this continue? According to the German Music Venues Association LiveKomm, the number of venues in Germany has fallen by over 60 per cent in the last ten years – from 2,300 to just 860. Small to medium-sized non-commercial cultural venues are particularly affected, with 55 per cent stating that they will not be able to survive without funding in the next twelve months. As more and more of these spaces close, the question arises: how can free spaces be preserved in an urban landscape that is increasingly determined by economic interests? We meet Marco Trotta, co-founder and managing director of the art and culture project contain’t e.V. in Stuttgart, at the UHU Bar in Stuttgart’s Leonardsviertel district. He has experienced urban change and the displacement of non-commercial cultural venues first-hand.
From improvised railway carriages to a container city – the story of contain’t
The cultural project dates back to the early 2000s, when Marco regularly visited the railway carriages (Bauzug3YG) at Stuttgart’s Nordbahnhof station – a place of alternative culture that had grown over decades. ‘I started out with my own carriage back then,’ says Marco. ‘A mixture of bar, performance space, cinema and lecture hall’ – an independent space that reinvented itself with every event. The project was financed by parties and events organised by cultural workers from the railway carriages to promote alternative art and culture in Stuttgart. But in 2011, that came to an end: the space was needed for the Stuttgart 21 construction project, and the railway carriages had to go.
contain’t was born out of precisely this need. Instead of a permanent space, Marco and his collective developed a mobile cultural venue made from shipping containers – flexible, adaptable and independent. In the wake of the protests against Stuttgart 21, they managed to secure a site in Bad Cannstatt, but only for temporary use. Over four years, a vibrant cultural venue grew there, attracting up to 1,200 visitors every weekend. But in 2016, this space also became history: the lease expired and contain’t had to move again. This time back to the North Station, to the ‘Container City’ of the Wagenhalle art association. This consisted of 100 containers, two railway carriages and temporary structures that were used as studios, rehearsal rooms and offices. But with success came uncertainty: how long would this place be allowed to exist this time?
‘We need spaces like this, and we need a legal framework for them.’
At that point, the whole thing became more political, Marco explains. The group took a more confident stance towards the city and made it clear: ‘We need spaces like this, and we need a legal framework for them. Because what was planned in terms of building regulations and organisation was a far cry from reality – it simply couldn’t be reconciled.’ So they actively demanded this framework, but the result was three building permit applications, all of which failed. Nevertheless, over the course of four years, a vibrant cultural scene emerged, demonstrating that alternative culture can exist even without long-term permits.
Before contain’t could develop a long-term perspective, the next surprise followed: at the end of 2018, a ‘Taskforce Oper’ appointed by Mayor Fritz Kuhn decided that the ‘Container City’ would have to make way for the Stuttgart State Opera as an interim venue by 2022. The interesting thing about this? Contain’t and the other resident projects – including the urban community garden Stadtacker and the art association Wagenhalle – did not learn about this through official channels, but from the press. This quickly sparked a public debate: why is the independent cultural scene being sacrificed to make room for a high culture institution?
Instead of allowing themselves to be displaced, contain’t responded creatively. Together with other actors in Container City, they transformed their existing space into the ‘New Opera’ – an idea that appropriated the name of the official State Opera and offered a platform for alternative art. ‘We’ll just build the New Opera ourselves’ was the motto. Four collectives regularly used the space every Wednesday from 6 p.m. to midnight for events, art installations and performances. The project showed that non-commercial culture can always adapt, but that this does not solve the underlying problem.
For a long time, contain’t was organised on a voluntary basis, but the increasing workload was no longer sustainable in the long term. It was not until 2021, with its inclusion in the City of Stuttgart’s cultural promotion list and the first subsidies, that the long-overdue recognition came. ‘At some point, I got completely worn out,’ says Marco.
The search for a new location – 16 failed attempts
Parallel to the ‘New Opera House’ project, a lengthy search for a new home began. contain’t examined 16 locations over a period of four and a half years – without success. Time and again, the search failed due to noise protection, environmental regulations, poor accessibility or bureaucratic hurdles. Meanwhile, Container City lasted longer than originally planned – the temporary project was extended twice, but will finally be officially dismantled at the end of 2024.
But there is hope: after years of uncertainty, contain’t finally has a long-term perspective. The site of the former P7 car park in Cannstatter Neckarpark. Mercedes-Benz and VfB Stuttgart had also expressed interest in the site – but in the end, the cultural scene prevailed. Now it’s certain: contain’t can use the site permanently in the future and thus has a permanent home for the coming years.
Between flexibility and uncertainty – when culture has to fight for space
contain’t is a prime example of a trend that can be observed in many cities around the world: cultural projects revitalise neighbourhoods until economically stronger players drive them out. Large institutions often secure space because they bring capital, networks and long-term planning security. Cultural initiatives, on the other hand, struggle with temporary permits, bureaucratic barriers and noise protection regulations. In the end, what counts is usually what makes economic sense – not what grows culturally.
The case of contain’t is a success, but it makes it clear that alternative culture in cities like Stuttgart has to be fought for and, despite creative solutions and political commitment, can disappear at any time. At the same time, cities are becoming increasingly regulated and economically optimised, which raises the question: what role remains for independent culture? And what needs to happen for projects like contain’t to survive in the long term, instead of having to improvise again and again?
Why cities need spaces like contain’t
If cities want to support creative and subcultural projects, clear political decisions are needed, Marco emphasises: long-term contracts for temporary cultural use, simplified approval processes and greater integration of non-commercial culture into urban planning. But it’s about more than bureaucracy. It’s about the fundamental question of what kind of city we want to create.
Alternative cultural offerings are more than just venues – they are spaces for experimentation, social meeting places and a counterpoint to the economic pressures that are increasingly shaping cities. Especially at a time when city centres are dominated by office buildings, retail outlets and carefully planned event spaces, places like contain’t are indispensable. So the question is not only whether contain’t will survive, but whether cities will secure such places in the long term. Marco sees hope in the new generation:
‘In recent years, many collectives have emerged, each with their own sound and culture. Many of them are critical of commercial clubs and prefer to hold events in unusual locations, such as museums or simply outdoors. I think this enriches club culture, as it allows “club culture” to move beyond the club.’
For him, this shows that real meeting places are still in demand: ‘For a long time, it was unclear whether such places would still exist after Corona or whether party culture and young people would switch to digital spaces. But in my experience, people still want to meet in real life – so the club remains a social platform.’
The future of cities is not determined solely by construction projects or state-subsidised cultural centres, but rather by places where people can come together and freely express themselves. Much is already happening, but it remains to be seen whether cities truly recognise the cultural value of such spaces and incorporate them into their long-term planning. Will there be more places like contain’t in the future, or will they remain temporary stopgaps that must continually fight for their place?
Social Media:
contain’t / Neue Oper: https://www.instagram.com/neueoperstuttgart/?hl=de