Street, Berlin by Ernst Ludwig Kirchner has that nightmarish, anxiety-inducing vibe that only a true German Expressionist could accomplish.

In 1905, Kirchner and his art buddies formed a group of German Expressionists called Die Brücke or “The Bridge” and honestly they had it pretty good. “For about six years they enjoyed an idyllic existence. Along with girlfriends and models they led a carefree, communal life involving free love, indoor and outdoor nudity and shared creative discovery. They were achieving their goal of bridging the gap between art and life, and were finding support from progressively minded collectors.”

And then they moved to Berlin in 1911 and disbanded within two years. They just couldn’t take the heat, I guess. Kirchner was left with his angst-ridden thoughts in Berlin, which was when he started making these...lovely street paintings. He explained that it was “...one of the loneliest times of my life, during which an agonizing restlessness drove me out onto the streets day and night.” It makes sense that his transition between running around naked with his best friends and girlfriends to being completely alone and clothed in the third largest city in Europe would be tough.

This painting is basically a harsh critique of Berlin. All of the men in the background have hard, unwelcoming faces that just scream, “You can’t sit with us.” On top of that, the color palette is highly off-putting – cringe-worthy, even. And the two women in front, who do look a little nicer than the men, are prostitutes who “...embod[y] not only glamour and alienation, but the sad reality of a culture in which everything was for sale.”

These women may or may not have been modeled after Gerda and Edna Shilling, sisters ) Kirchner met in Berlin. The two of them were a huge influence on the street paintings and Edna was an even bigger influence on Kirchner (the two were lovers for a time), but that doesn’t mean that he would depict them in a favorable light. This painting is still depressing as all get out. In fact, Street, Berlin pretty much looks the way depression feels. As Ken Johnson from the New York Times put it, “Kirchner was not a gifted painter, but his paintings have a bracing ugliness and a burning emotional intensity. Looking at his claustrophobic pictures is like seeing through the feverish eyes of a lost and tormented soul.”