CTM Festival:
Experimental Soundscapes as a Response to Today’s Dissonant Times

January in Berlin is cold. But on such a night in January 2007, an old club in a converted East German postal train station was roaring with energy. That night, the Burial Chamber Trio led by Greg Anderson, guitarist for Sunn O))), was performing when suddenly, a guitar amplifier caught fire on the stage blowing out all the fuses in the club. The aging electrical system had not been able to handle the power flow. Jan Rohlf, co-director of the CTM Festival, still vividly remembers the moment the entire club was plunged into darkness. "I thought everyone would leave, but no one left. They just waited in the darkness. About 40 minutes later, when the technician, showed up with a new fuse, his face blackened, everyone started to cheer." The energy of that night perfectly embodies the identity of the CTM Festival, which over the past 27 years served to establish Berlin as a hub for experimental music. What matters here is not a perfect performance. It is the tension and solidarity created by the audience and artists finding themselves together in unpredictable moments and unfamiliar experiences.

First experiments in the club

The CTM Festival has humble beginnings. In 1999, Rohlf, Lillevan Pobjoy, Marc Weiser, and five other colleagues envisioned a new type of event, a combination of sound experiments, underground club culture, and media. At the time, Berlin was a city dotted with vacant lots and empty buildings, allowing artists the freedom to experiment. Their first performance venue was the club Maria am Ostbahnhof. Housed in a converted former East German postal train station, the venue was small and prone to unexpected occurrences, but it was bustling with young artists and audiences eager to explore the new sounds of electronic music.
 

Since then, the CTM Festival has defined itself as a ‘festival for adventurous music and art,’ focusing less on what to play and more on how far the sound can be pushed. Its venues expanded throughout the city, including the high-rise buildings of Alexanderplatz (“Haus des Lehrers”), the Volksbühne, the former East German state theatre, and Berghain, a mecca for the Berlin techno scene. Berghain is a club in a former combined heat and power plant renowned for its unique acoustics created by its high ceilings and concrete structure. The Volksbühne was a cultural hub in East Germany before reunification, and it still serves as a stage for experimental theatre and performances. Beyond this, the venue—from the reverberations of a church to the stifling air of a club, to the white silence of an exhibition hall— served not only as a mere backdrop to, but as a creative element in, complementing music. The venue also combined sound installations, performances, and video works defying the perception of pure ‘music,’ often even which caused discomfort to the audience’s ears, offering new auditory experiences.
 

Music that Defies Genre, Space that Expands into Experience

Since the 2010s, the CTM Festival has further pushed the boundaries of ‘music.’ A prime example is the 2019 Eishalle (ice rink) project, which saw ice installed on the concrete floors of Berghain and a DJ performing a set on it. Audience members danced while balancing on the slippery ice. In that moment, music no longer remained confined to the realm of hearing but expanded into an experience that engaged the sense of balance and the physicality of space. That same year, German artist Nik Nowak unveiled ‘The Mantis,’ a two-ton speaker installation. This mobile sound system, resembling a giant insect, recreated the ‘noise wars’ of the 1960s, when East and West Berlin bombarded each other with propaganda broadcasts. The installation satirized the idea that sound was not simply subject to listening, but could become a medium for aggression, resistance, and a political weapon.
 

It is, however, unclear for just how long such musical experimentation can continue. Berlin is no longer the city of 1999. Rents have risen, and regulations have tightened. "It's become increasingly difficult to maintain non-commercial, experimental spaces," Rohlf explains. "What was once a spontaneous endeavour now requires arduous minute-by-minute planning." This shift has been accelerated by the COVID-19 pandemic and the rising cost of living following the Russo-Ukrainian War. Even more worrisome are the cultural shifts. He added that "actions without solidarity or financial justification are decreasing" and that "playfulness is in danger of disappearing." Audiences, too, are less financially secure, preferring the familiar and more and more cautious about trying new things. The moment they purchase a ticket, people expect a "guaranteed experience." Introducing new and experimental artists remains the core of the CTM Festival, but this comes with costs and persuasion. Experimentation has become an investment, and risk has become a variable that must be calculated. The CTM Festival is still seeking a balance between the free-spirited chaos of 1999 and the planned experimentation of 2025.

Seeking Harmony in Dissonance

The 27th CTM Festival, to be held in January of 2026, will take place at iconic Berlin venues such as Berghain, Volksbühne, Radialsystem, and Haus der Visionäre, under the theme of "dissonate <> resonate." Rohlf likened the current situation, which is "increasingly violent and irreconcilable," to "dissonance," noting that "While music cannot resolve conflict, it creates a space for togetherness." He argued that music is a medium that can give expression to tensions, contradictions, fractures, and complex emotions when words fail. He believes that through musical experiences, common ground can be found that transcends division, and through the festival he hopes to create a space where people can come together and not ignore crises and conflicts.

This philosophy is also evident in his collaborations with South Korea. The CTM Festival, in collaboration with Seoul's WeSA Festival, has invited Korean artists such as GAZAEBAL and Yetsuby. Among these, a notable joint performance will feature Korean artist Tohal Kyna and Berlin-based artist Sara Persico. This project, which combines Kyna's raw noise with Persico's experimental vocals and electronic music, was previously presented in Seoul in November and will be performed at the CTM Festival next year. The Berlin and Seoul music scenes have historically had limited interaction, as geographical and cultural distances have limited their reach. This collaboration, rather than attempting to bridge that gap with "understanding," juxtaposes two scenes that developed within distinct contexts, encouraging the audience to make its own discovery of connections and differences.
Sometimes, unfamiliarity is the most effective listening experience. If you attend the CTM Festival, not being familiar with experimental music is fine. More important than knowledge of a genre or any music theory is an openness to new sounds and unexpected sensations. Just surrender to the unfamiliar vibrations in the heart of Berlin in the cold of winter. Dissonances that initially felt uncomfortable will soon become rhythmic, and you will realize that there is someone next to you sharing the same vibrations. Even if you do not fully understand each other, this moment of shared resonance may be the most significant experience you can expect from this CTM Festival.


Concept: Sohee Shin
Text: Eunji Park
English Translation: STAR Korea AG
German Translation: Kathrin Hadeler
Photos and archival material: Jan Rohlf