How did Hansa Tonstudio get started?
The two Meisel brothers [Peter and Thomas] started Hansa Musik Produktion company in [1962]. They wanted to record German artists. Before Hansa was in this building, the big hall downstairs was the old Ariola-Eurodisc Studio — since the late '50s or so. They did a lot of classical recording. The Meisels would ask to rent space here when they worked on their own productions. First it was two or three artists, then five, then ten. It became more difficult to book space, so they said, "Okay, we're successful and we have the money; let's just build our own studio." That was Hansa Studio One, near the Victory Column [in Tiergarten, Berlin], which was at that location for about nine years. Around 1974 they asked if they could buy this building. Ariola said, "Fine, buy it and take over the studio." They had another place, in Munich I think, so there were no problems between Ariola and the Meisel family — it was all very friendly. So they bought it in '75 and started working in the old Ariola studio, which they then called Hansa Studio Two because Studio One was still operating [across town]. The building was still damaged from The War; the only working part was the former Ariola studio downstairs. David Bowie and Iggy Pop came to Berlin in the '70s, and made a few records at Hansa. They later closed the studio at the other location and literally moved it here, piece by piece. They took all of the wood, the acoustic absorbers and diffusers, from the old Studio One, and then put them in here. They didn't finish that until '79; they opened it in 1980. Same acoustics, the same architecture — it looked like the [old] room but with different gear, and a different desk. It was a very good time for the studio, because a lot of people around the world heard these productions and thought they should use Hansa too. That led to [booking] problems, because they only had two studios and a mixing room. They couldn't meet demand! So Studio Three was added around '82. It was on the ground floor and was very nice-looking, but... difficult with the sounds sometimes.
What made it difficult?
Depending on the amplifier or guitar, you had to [constantly move] to avoid a terrible hum. The next time, same position, there would be a hum, but none where you had been before. We thought it was something in the ground or in the ceiling; maybe an old cable from who knows when. We never figured it out.
You never fixed it?
Nope, and it was difficult to record guitars downstairs because of it. In 1993 Thomas Meisel decided to close Studio Three, leaving the other two.
What were the other recording options in Berlin when the Meisel brothers started the studio?
I think a few of the bigger record companies had studios in Germany. Ariola [part of BMG today], of course. Teldec [a Telefunken and Decca collaboration] had a big studio that is still around, but it's called Teldex now. In the '70s there was Audio Studio, but there weren't many.
Were people going abroad to record?
Not really, because for Germany that was the beginning of the modern recording era. It was rare for a German band or a young artist to make a record. It was mostly classical music up until then.
So Hansa filled a new need?
Yes, I think so. Things were changing, and [the Meisels] needed much more time than the studio here could offer when it was running under Ariola-Eurodisc. Once they owned the building they expanded; they even added a training studio. When they got the bigger, better desks — like the old Neve and, later, the SSLs — they had a practice studio in this building with the exact same desks so all of the engineers and assistants could have a chance to learn before working on real projects. It was a luxury.
You don't see that anymore!
Right! Today the [former] training studio is rented out to [German producers] Jack White and Peter Wagner. They do very successful productions with German Schlager. [Note: Schlager is a form of sentimental pop, rooted in German traditional music, which is extremely successful in Northern Europe. Millions of records have been sold annually since the '50s.]
Is Schlager still alive?
Yeah, and it's what made Hansa rich in the old days. The Meisels started with Schlager; now they're up to the third generation — the son of Thomas Meisel, Sven, is the boss today. They found all of the famous German Schlager stars and everyone made millions. Monday recording, Tuesday mixing, and by Wednesday on the charts, you know?
It's something most Americans are completely unaware of. I saw a documentary about how Kosmische Musik ["Krautrock"] was a reaction to Schlager, and quickly learned how huge it was.
Absolutely! The roots of Schlager are quite old. Thomas' grandfather started the distribution and publishing company [Edition Meisel & Co. GmbH]. It's still the biggest independent publishing company in Germany. It was founded about 85 years ago. He published all of the music from the old German movies from the '20s, '30s, and I think during The War, too. You know, songs about how "everything is fine, let's be happy, the flowers are yellow and things are super." That's how it started. They added drums to it later. Around '63 the professional, bigger music production style came along.
That's when it actually became "Schlager," as we know it?
Yeah, and it just got bigger. A guy who worked here back then said it was crazy. You would do a record, and a week later it would be in all of the [jukeboxes] around the country — including every dance hall and restaurant. That meant at least 50,000 copies of your record in those places alone; not to mention they were also the top-selling releases in record stores.
After mastering, they would be able to get 50,000 copies pressed and distributed that fast?
Sure. It was a huge business, so they had it figured out. A guy who is working in [what used to be] the old training studio today wrote songs for Shirley Bassey and Frank Sinatra. He's been involved in the sale of over 160 million records. It was totally normal to have at least one million copies [certified platinum] of a Schlager single in the '60s or '70s. They made so much money it was unbelievable. A former manager told [me] about the time they went to Great Britain to buy two big SSL desks, but the Hansa guys didn't like the color of them so they had three made in a special blue color. Two of them are still in the building — one of them was sold later. Later SSL offered "Hansa Blue" in their catalog but I don't think anyone bought one. I think this one [points to 64-channel desk] was 1,400,000 Deutsche Marks in the old times. That's about 600,000 Euros [$800,000 USD]. I often talk with the old guys about the gear that they had back then. The microphone collection was much, much bigger. We had six of the Fairchild 660s [limiters] and at least three or four of the 670s. If you want to buy an old 670 today you have to spend $40,000 each. There's still so much great gear in here though. Most of it is from the late '70s and early '80s, and we spend a lot of money keeping it in good shape.
Who made the equipment purchasing decisions when they were originally building the studio?
Eduard ["Edu"] Meyer, who was both an engineer and musician. A few other house engineers also decided what gear to buy. I think they went to London to have a look around Abbey Road, for example, to see what they used and what we needed for Hansa.
What was the gear availability and distribution network like back then?
Even now the studio situation isn't like London. If I need a bigger Neve rack, with ten preamps, I can't just make a call and say, "Send it over." We could call Michael [Ilbert], who has a studio in this building, ask four or five times and he might eventually say, "Yes." [laughs] If you rent a studio here you're renting everything in the space and in storage. That's all part of the deal. That's the difference compared to studios in Great Britain or even in the US, I think, where you might rent a room and a desk but everything else is negotiable. Five years ago I worked at Abbey Road for the Philharmonic Orchestra, and as I asked for a few things on top — some API EQs to put between the microphones, the drums, and the Pro Tools system. Someone was next to me writing down everything I needed and working out the cost. It's not like that here. We have a 48-track in/out Pro Tools setup, the desk, all the gear you can see, plus all the gear we have upstairs. We also have two EMT [plate reverbs] connected to the studio — one is a very famous gold- foil EMT plate. We have Clavinet and Rhodes [keyboards]. If you rent the studio, you can use all of it. I think that's why we decided to [amass] so much equipment. If nobody else in town had it available for rent, it needed to be onsite.
Once this became one giant facility, what were some of the first big projects to come out of it?
At first, they were all German projects. Peter Maffay, a German artist who has sold so many records [He holds the German record for most million selling albums, with a current total of 14. -ed.] was on of the first. He's also known for his very successful children's records, about a green dragon called Tabaluga. He's recorded and produced all of his projects here. Herbert Grönemeyer, who is probably the most famous artist in German history, still works in this building. Of course, the first big international project was David Bowie, definitely.
How did David Bowie hear about Hansa, and what made him decide to record here?
I'm not quite sure, but I think first he just came to Berlin to check it out, have a good time, and to see how it was possible to live in this city during The Cold War. Berlin had an incredible nightlife. Everywhere else in Germany had a "sperrstunde," — the 10 p.m. closing time leftover from the post-war years when the British and US Army was everywhere. They stopped serving alcohol, and you were expected to go home or you'd get in trouble. I don't know why, but that rule didn't exist in West Berlin, so things were happening 24-hours a day. I think that was why Bowie came to live here. New experiences.
West Berlin was an island.
Yes, you could look over the wall to the East Berlin, which was just... grey. Even the cars were grey. In the middle of this grey country of East Germany was West Berlin: colorful, with nightlife. Whatever you needed you could get there, any time of day. I'm sure all of that was attractive for a guy like David Bowie. Then he decided to come to the studio to make some music. I think he was genuinely in love with the city, and even its problems, because later, after he made the famous records, he got involved with a movie called Christiane F. — Wir Kinder vom Bahnhof Zoo. Jebensstraße, behind the Zoologischer Garten [U- bahn] station, was infamous for the young teens who worked as prostitutes so they could buy drugs. It was just a very dark and dirty area. A movie was made, and he used music he recorded here for it.
You attribute the international interest in the studio to Bowie having worked here?
Yeah, the "Bowie spirit" was the main thing, but there was also The Berlin Wall. It seemed so unbelievable to people. There was a Communist East part, a free West part, and a wall right down the middle. How is that possible? In the '70s and '80s they talked about it all over the world and people wanted to see it up close. For modern-thinking musicians it was exotic to come to a split city like Berlin to make music.
I can imagine it was unique and inspirational.
It's hard to explain. When I first came to Berlin I knew the studio was somewhere in this neighborhood. There was nothing down here but us, a very old building where they tested the Magnetbahn [the magnetic train that connected Gleisdreieck and Potsdamer Platz after the city was split], and The Wall, which was 150 meters away. The great thing was you could do whatever you wanted. Nobody to disturb and no noise complaints! All of the studios [in this building] were wired together. You could run signals from downstairs to upstairs and here to there. One day Depeche Mode sent mixes from the fourth floor down to this huge, 6000 watt per side PA they had set up below in Studio Two; they [cranked it up] so they could get a real "live" reverb. They mic'd that and sent it back up to the mixing room. It was so loud; the whole building was shaking for two weeks! It was a big problem for the staff and other clients. They were like, "Shit, we spent a lot of money to come here! What can we do now?" It was so loud nobody else could work. It was enormous fun, though. There's no way you could do that here today, with the neighbors. Not a chance! It used to be easier to use the staircases, The Hall, and the cellar for echo chambers and reverbs, like Bill Putnam used to do. We did that a lot around here.
When did you first start to allow outside engineers to work at Hansa? Was it all in-house for a while?
