Open Ground: Wuppertal's new auditory institution

Most of us have that one group chat that served an organisational purpose many years ago but has since become a home for a friend group. Back in 2021 in the optimism that raged between the 2020 winter lockdown in Germany and the 2021 repeat (that we yet knew was coming) we made plans to attend the Possession festival, scheduled for December that year. The line up included many of the rising hard techno stars such as SPFDJ and KI/KI as well as legends like Ellen Allien. Due to the winter lockdown the festival was pushed back to summer 2022. Needless to say it was well worth the wait. Hosted in the Le Bourget commune, which has a Tempelhof-esque airport at its centre, the festival was an unapologetic representation of the hard techno scene: intense, booming beats laced with pop lyrics and acid melodies.

Four years later, we repurposed this group to organise a trip to Open Ground - the (relatively) new cultish club in Wuppertal, which sits on the edge of Germany's Pott region. For many expats (such as myself) in Berlin, the thought of travelling within Germany for a club night is not instinctual. But Open Ground since its creation in 2023 has attracted a lot of attention.

Open Ground's social media interest is about a third of Berlin's most famous club

Open Ground has made its waves by pitching itself as a space with a unique sound setup. And for many club goers, sound is the key ingredient for a fantastic party. When Berghain redesigned its sound system, reddit was full of threads for weeks with (amateur) sound engineers debating and speculating around the objective quality of the new system. While sound is a core component of an exhilarating dancefloor, the people or the crowd are arguably equally constituent (at least for extroverted dancers such as myself). This is reflected by the fact that in Berlin clubs have door policies aimed at curating a crowd coherent with the sound or vibe inside the club.

We roll up to Open Ground around 11:30 pm, fresh from a late night nap (yes, we are all 30+ and care about sleep). The security check takes place on the street, after which you descend down urine-stained concrete stairs into the club. Entering into the club is a peaceful experience. The space is L-shaped with the garderobe at the shorter end. The longer side contains a mix of concrete blocks with seat pads, wooden benches and sofas, with the bar at the far end. The lighting is a welcoming shade of red with purple undertones. This combination strikes a balance between granting visibility over the whole space and hiding imperfections and tired eyes. As we hit up the bar for a dubiously concocted negroni, I notice the subtle studio monitors that pipe the music from the main floor into the chill bereich, lending the space the feel of a hotel lobby. As my friends discuss their first impressions and make new friends I decide to check out the rest of the club.

I'm first drawn to a corridor that leads off perpendicularly from the long side of the L. After a couple of short turns I end up in the smaller dancefloor. Being still early in the night, the dancefloor is yet to reach a critical mass and would require some supreme confidence to go and lead the way. Feeling shy I return back and continue on beyond the bar where the club extends round in an inverted L. The long side of the section is lined with panorama bar cabins. And though I sense I must be approaching the main room, I still fail to feel any real bass or vibrations. This is perhaps the biggest difference to the Berghain experience where as soon as you enter Säule you are consumed by the madness happening above.

Eventually I make it into the main room and any previous fear about the absence of sound is immediately dispelled. As I cross the threshold I feel the sound and smoke swallow me up. The step up in intensity is overwhelming, particularly with the staccato strobes. Despite my best efforts to get into the groove, I retire back to the lobby to report back to the boys.

One impression of the experience at Possession that stuck was the volume and intensity of the party. Rocking up at shortly after 9pm, we were thrown into phat basslines. To cope with the cortisol injection, you're inclined to introduce substances to bring your body up to speed with the environment around you. That experience taught me that parties are best enjoyed with a gradual increase in intensity. On the first night, after listening to hours of hard techno we were anticipating the closing set from our fave DJ KI/KI. But she, or perhaps the bookers, made a jarring misstep. Rather than finishing hard, KI/KI played her signature, but slower and more gentle, acid techno. The drop in intensity created a mismatch between the mental state of the crowd and the music. Reflecting now, that led to a feeling of disappointment reminiscent of being child and not getting the present you want from Santa (very spoiled first world problem, I know). And as any good DJ would, KI/KI could sense that dissonance and despite her best efforts to save face the set never fully delivered.

With negronis tended to, we are ready to get dancing. After a quick inspection of the dfloors, most of us settle on the smaller room to warm up. The room is starting to fill up. There are a couple of ceiling-to-floor spot lights that lend the space a bit of structure beyond the DJ booth and serve as romantic spots for duo dancing. As I groove to the funky vinyl tracks, my friend comments that while clean the speakers were only truly audible from one side. I came to realise that throughout Open Ground the walls are covered in absorbing cladding that massively reduce reverb. This contributes to sound isolation between not only the rooms and the lobby area but also the speakers on either side of the space. We relocate to a more central area and find the sweet spot where both speakers align. And while the resulting harmony is impressive and incredibly crisp, I'm left wondering whether on a busier night, where space is scarce, this setup is that enjoyable for everyone.

Warmed up and ready for something more hypnotic we move to the main room and find our friend with a big grin on his face. It's immediately obvious that the main room has a much, much larger sweet spot. Even when dancing close to one of the Funktion-One's, situated in each corner, there is never really a feeling that the music is originating from a specific location. There are moments during Josey Rebelle's set where it feels as is synth samples are vibrating through the room. Not as a product of reverb but as an intentional result of audio panning within the track itself.

As the night goes on we continue to enjoy the immersive sound of the main room. There are cute moments of curiousity and interaction with people in the crowd but compared with what I know from nights and days at Sisy or Berghain I am left wanting more. I take moments to observe the make up of the crowd around me and in general I notice diversity in age but not in gender or sexuality. There is a definite skew towards men in the crowd and as the night goes on this only becomes more prevalent. Unlike Berlin clubs, Open Ground has a largely unselective door policy. And while inclusivity is important, my sense is that open doors conversely reduce openness on the dancefloor.

After over three hours of dancing to a fire set from DVS-eins I decide to retire to bed. In many ways Open Ground met my expectations. It boasts an excellent auditory experience, and for those who enjoy clubbing with space to relax and to recover from intensity, Open Ground is a fantastic option. Similarly, when sound and attention to detail for music lovers are important or you want to make memories with close friends, a night in Wuppertal is great. But if you're looking for chaos and serendipity, I don't think it's worth putting yourself through a long ride on the flixtrain (with no aircon). You're better placed staying in Berlin.