The Painters of the Round Table

Ox gall, aphids and toxic pigments

You won't find any of that here. The Citadel's master painters and decorators don't consider themselves to be conservators that use original tools and paint materials for restoration where at all possible. "Much the contrary", Christian Schiller says. "We aim for a perfect look, not originality – at a decent price." For this purpose, the twelve members of the group may also use horsehair brushes, beer and gold leaf (see box) in addition to contemporary equipment and pigments to imitate the archaic, elaborate and time-consuming methods more cost-effectively.

Their "playgrounds", as the painters and decorators call them, include old staircases in Berlin, due to be restored to their original condition without spending too much of the budget on materials. "We are experts in the art of imitation and illusion", the 57-year-old says to describe his association's special character. "It doesn't have to be genuine, it just needs to look genuine."

They use stucco made of Styrofoam, factory-made paints and the columns they work on are hollow featuring a marble look. However, they are coated entirely manually, just like the experts' predecessors would have done: They pressed many layers of lime onto each other with a spatula until they created a surface as smooth as a mirror.

The only old thing in their studio ("Except for Klaus-Peter?", one of the trainees says jokingly) is equipment that is more than a century old and has been put on display on shelves and in glass display cabinets: Lime spray guns as large as a dandy horse, scales with space for a small elephant and waist-high drums with rusty fittings lend the facilities an air of past eras.

Cooperation instead of competition

That's what this modern guild is all about. Master painter and decorator Andreas Best, 42, describes a project he is currently working on as part of which he is using silicate paint instead of classic lime like in the old days. This job is for a renowned fashion designer from Potsdam, the building site is large and there is plenty going on. Colleagues are quickly on hand to help: "Do you need a hand?" and "shall I lend you my large van?"

If one of the master painters and decorators is struggling for time, they can quickly ask members for help on a WhatsApp group. Everyone at the Citadel agrees that this attitude is what makes them all particularly competitive and a top contact for architects.

It is said to score them increasingly larger orders with the consequence that each of them can work on building sites that would normally be too large for an individual. And no one has ever suffered from the courage of asking others for help, Christian Schiller explains: "This is how I was able to work in Hotel Adlon."

Beers and the code of honor

The master painter and decorator has been freelance for 30 years and he appreciates the fair pricing as a guild member in his position as Head of the Spandau and Charlottenburg district. He complains about dirty business in the industry. Many are not up to his standards and overcharge their customers. "We consider our mission as providing a craft, not ripping off customers."

He raises his voice and starts gesticulating more intensively: "If we deliver good work, we can earn plenty. Nothing more and nothing less." Trainees nod while working on their templates. They not only learn what it is like to meet once a week for a drink or how to work with crackle lacquer, create a marble effect or apply leaf gold.

They also learn about their trade's code of honor. And the code of honor not only specifies that building sites must be left with clean windows, Christian Schiller explains, but also how to handle difficult building owners in a friendly, yet confident way or how to meet extremely creative architects halfway.

Heart, not elbow

The magic within the community is the true secret of a guild according to the bosses of busy companies around Berlin. "In the Middle Ages you shared your expertise, today it's more about putting your elbows out. In this professional group we work against this kind of indifference", Detlef Remmler, 68, says.

These are his final words for now while he is resting his fists on the head of the five meter board. Above him towers a work of art filling an entire wall, showing a guild gathering in the Middle Ages. Depicted characters are discussing issues, laughing and drinking. "That's us", Klaus-Peter Engelhardt shouts from next door, "we just look much better." And there it is again: that faint knocking sound.

How do you make a door that isn't even made of wood look like old wood? Then Detlef Remmler (below) just opens a beer. The master painters and decorators are fully convinced of beer coatings, as they are able to imitate woodgrain almost perfectly. For this purpose, he gradually adds paint pigments to the beer and applies the mixture. Practical: As long as nothing has been sealed with enamel, you can redo any pattern.

1. Stroke of the brush

Mix beer by the tablespoon with Tierra de Siena pigments to imitate the color of mahogany wood. Then roughly apply plenty of the solution with a brush to have enough color available to recreate the grain.

2. Rubber application

The woodstain is then carefully drawn off using a grooved rubber roller. In this process, move the tool in wavy lines to imitate mahogany grain. The additional rolling movement consequently enlarges or reduces the characteristic difference between the lines.

3. Stroke of a feather

In a final step, Christian Schiller uses a goose feather to imitate the grain down to the last detail by wiping it towards the left and right. He obtains the feathers from a friend who runs a poultry farm in Berlin-Charlottenburg.