Cora Marin
Conversation 02
'One day it’s a cinema, the next it’s an open atelier, and then it’s an art academy. It’s an anti-school, an open library, a concert hall—it’s a completely neutral venue, and at the same time, it’s a totally personal and loaded space.'
Welcome, Cora. Thank you for doing this with me. I'd really like to get to know a little bit about where you're originally from and what brought you to Leipzig. Was there something particular about Leipzig that drew you here?
Well, I actually come from a little village in the mountains of the Pyrenees. Somehow, I feel like all of my expat situations in life have been so casual and accidental in a way. I've just been on the go and suddenly landed somewhere where I was supposed to spend a week and ended up staying for ten years.
This keeps happening. It happened in Berlin and at some point, I had been living there for about twelve years—so it just felt like home. But then I got a job in Halle, and through that, I realized I needed a change. I’ll always be rooted in Berlin, but I miss nature so much. I miss that smaller-town situation where you actually meet the same people regularly, or it doesn’t take an hour and a half to go see a friend on the other side of town.
So, I was looking for somewhere in between—not as tiny and village-like as Halle, but also not as overwhelmingly large as Berlin. That’s how I settled in Leipzig. It seemed like a good middle ground. I didn’t have a job waiting for me, and I hadn’t known the city yet. I was just like, “Okay, well, this is unexplored.” It has this Eastern German vibe that I dig. So I stayed.
Cool. Well, I’m very glad that you ended up here. Besides running MODOS DEVER, you’re also an artist yourself, right? How would you describe what you’re currently doing, both with your personal work and with the space?
There has been a massive shift in how I work and what I do. I used to be much more hands-on. I had atelier time nearly every day, and people would come to my studio for private lessons. It was very technical and physical—I would get my hands dirty every day, painting, building something, or setting up installations. Now, it’s the complete opposite. I love it, but it’s more about direction, curatorial, and organizational work.
Instead of working so much on my own artistic practice, I’m actually enabling a lot of people to work on theirs and giving them a platform, which is also really rewarding. It’s a very different line of work.
When did that shift happen, moving away from your artistic practice to enabling others?
Well, I think the first thing was motherhood. I started building the space when my baby was only two or three months old. I was trying to navigate all of that. Initially, I had the idea of having my atelier inside, which I kind of do, but it launched in a whole different way.
It was unexpected and actually something I wished for, but at the same time, I couldn’t have predicted how it would kick off. People started coming, and then there were all these suggestions of things we could do and collaborations. It just blossomed, and it ended up being everyone’s space instead of just my atelier, which I love. I really enjoy that.
How would you describe MODOS DEVER to someone who has never been there before?
Oh, you know, I get this question every day, and I still don’t have a clear answer. It really depends on which day you happen to be there. One day it’s a cinema, the next it’s an open atelier, and then it’s an art academy. It’s an anti-school, an open library, a concert hall—it’s a completely neutral venue, and at the same time, it’s a totally personal and loaded space.
It has been a laundry room, a tattoo studio, an open kitchen, and a dining experience—a freaky living room type of situation. I don’t know; it’s all kinds of things!
It’s an adaptable space.
Yeah, yeah. I actually love that I’m working with this designer now. She was the first person to come in and, after five minutes, say, “Well, this space has no walls. We need to do something that translates this malleable, super flexible type of project you have going on here.” It’s so not related to a particular room or space. It’s just, yeah, flowing.
It does flow, and I think that makes it unique in how it can adapt to so many different uses. Other spaces might be more static or defined, and it takes a certain imagination to see how it could become an open library or an open kitchen. I think that uniqueness is a huge advantage.
I was just talking about this with a friend recently. How certain majestic buildings and grandiose structures can actually host such a wide spectrum of artistic projects, yet sometimes can’t shake off a certain harshness. You can do anything inside them, yet there’s a certain flair that makes it feel like some things in there just can’t be transformed.
I’m grateful for the fact that, although tiny, MODOS feels like a whole different space every day.
That’s really unique. I think that flexibility is definitely a huge advantage, especially in the beginning. When you’re curating these various events and exhibitions, what is your approach? Is there an underlying theme or energy you want to highlight throughout them all?
The main impulse, I would say, is that everything engages some kind of exchange, conversation, and get-together. It’s all very analog. That’s what I really dig—events meant for people to have conversations with one another.
The room is so small; it’s not like you can escape it. Obviously, you can leave anytime, but it somehow invites this cocoon-like atmosphere, where you can have intimate conversations you sometimes don’t get to have elsewhere. Everything we’ve done in MODOS so far has been about offering a platform to talk about things in a calm, away-from-the-world type of setting.
Every time I’ve been there, I’ve definitely felt that. I’ve had deep conversations with artists, for example. Even at more formal events like exhibitions or concerts, the close access to the artist or to you as the host really enhances the experience. It brings people together and makes them feel like part of it, rather than just observers. MODOS is great for that.
I think there’s a Southern granny in me that wants to bring all the people together in one tiny space, sit them down at a table, feed them, and have them talk to one another.
It’s important to host those in-person, spontaneous conversations between strangers. How long has the space been open now? One year?
Pretty much exactly a year.
Is there a particular event or moment that you can recall that really captures the spirit of your space?
There are many. I remember many events and things that have happened fondly. There have been so many bizarre performances and situations where you think, “How is it possible that someone is doing their laundry in here while someone else is getting tattooed and another person is holding a theater performance on the upper floor?” None of this was planned.
Haha, I love that!
Right? Like, how does this come to be? But then there was also one finissage with an artist talk featuring David Salazar Bianchi. He’s an artist from Guatemala who lives in Berlin. This was the first artist talk we ever held in the space, and his exhibition was amazing—his work is so powerful. It was a beautiful, cozy evening where we didn’t plan anything. We just sat around the table and got really into deep conversations.
It felt like a mix between a group therapy session and a trip together. We were completely transported somewhere else, and it was an intimate group of people. I don’t think any of us expected to be so moved by the exchange we had then. I remember that very fondly. It was so inspiring.
Speaking of that, are there specific movements or spaces that inspire you?
I think there are a lot of spaces that have brought me to where I am today. Interestingly, now that I run my own space, I don’t consult them as much as I did before. But they’re definitely always there in the background.
One of my biggest inspirations is the Black Mountain College movement, which you probably know about. Additionally, there are two initiatives that I got to know in Berlin that I always carry with me wherever I go. One of them is the Floating University—it's a beautiful initiative and embodies an anti-school, anti-University spirit. Then there's District, and I think MODOS DEVER sits at a midpoint between these two; it draws a lot of inspiration from how these projects operate.
Of course, in the end, you have all these goals and ideas for a place, and it gets overwhelming because I don’t want to control what’s going on in there. I'm very happy that the space continues to be transformed by everyone involved. Each space ends up becoming its own little microcosm, but I feel like we all share common threads that hold us together.
Are there any specific collectives or communities here or outside of Leipzig that you're involved with, and how did those connections shape MODOS?
One collaboration that has been there from the beginning is with the publication Arts of the Working Class.
We offer this publication, and people can come and read some of the past and recent issues.
Actually, I will come for that purpose. I have three or four stacks of their papers at home. I love them.
Well, I haven't found a vendor to collaborate with yet. Otherwise, people could come pick them up, sell them, and distribute them as they please. So far, I think it's not functioning as well as it could.
I actually don’t have a strong network of collaborations going on in Leipzig right now, and I would love to work on that some more. For instance, I would love to collaborate with roller derby projects in the city, which I recently discovered are quite active, and I found that really inspiring. Then there are all these queer centers and cultural institutions doing important work for minorities that I would really like to partner with. I know there’s a lot happening; it’s just tough to find the time to run the space and actually meet these people. But that’s something I really look forward to doing, as it’s one of the nicest parts of my job.
So, one last question about MODOS: when someone has an idea of what they want to create with this space, how does that happen?
Actually, it's very casual and uncomplicated. You just reach out and mention your idea, and depending on your budget and revenue, you either pay something or you don’t.
I try to tailor that to what people can actually pay. It's very different if a well-established institution with financial means wants to rent out the space for a weekend compared to a student who works two jobs on the side and wants to have an exhibition. It’s very transparent—how much do you make, and you can pay accordingly. So far, everyone has been really fine with that and very honest, which I'm grateful for.
It’s a very easy process; we just start a conversation. We meet, have some coffee, and talk things through. People often come up with the craziest ideas on the spot, which is really inspiring for me. I see the space daily, and it’s just one thing to me, but then someone comes in with a fresh perspective and says, “Oh, I can build a third floor, throw a rope from there, and create a kid-friendly space!” And I’m like, “Yes, do it! Go for it!”
It’s so much fun when people come in and see all these metamorphoses possible for the space.
That’s pretty much how it happens. There’s no script, no formula, no paperwork. Depending on the project, we eventually get into a contract or lease, but even that process is very straightforward.
I’m going to start sending a lot of people I know to you if they need space, because it's always a question for event organizers: “Where can we have this? Where can we find a legal place where we can be loud and have enough people?” That’s a big hurdle for many collectives, so it’s refreshing to hear about a space that can be transformed in different ways and is run by someone who's open to that.
If you could go back and tell yourself something a year ago, is there something you would say?
The first thing that comes to mind is, “Run for the hills!” No, I love every minute of it. I absolutely love it, but it can be so overwhelming. You're constantly thinking, “Oh my God, what’s going to happen next?” It started very ambitiously, in the sense of wanting it to be anything and everything.
But I never quite imagined what a crazy, massive workload it would be to make that happen and do it well. In retrospect, I would tell myself to give things more time.
For instance, with the exhibitions, I would like to savor them more, to linger on what's actually happening, to celebrate them properly, and to run more events around them. That all takes time, and I'm looking forward to a slower program and approach because that doesn't mean getting less done.
However, I wouldn’t change what happened thus far; I think it had to be that way for me to learn how to do things moving forward. So, I have no regrets. My contradictions are my hopes.
I totally feel you, and I wish you the best of luck with the space in the years to come. Let’s talk about Leipzig a bit more. Do you have any hidden gems that you’ve found in Leipzig?
I actually have my little hidden jewels, like some of the Latino community spots in Gohlis. You just have to dig around to find them, but when you do, it’s a lot of fun because it's unexpected and bizarre. That’s not my go-to spot, though. I think it keeps changing.
I really enjoy the cinema scene in Leipzig, which I didn't expect. It’s right up there with Berlin. I used to go to all these off cinemas and strange spaces showing films, and I thought I wouldn’t find anything that matched that here. But Leipzig actually has a vibrant cinema culture. I love the DOK festival and the Gegenkino festival.
I just learned that you can also go somewhere at the Hauptbahnhof and sit on the stairs to watch animations projected this weekend.
I move around Leipzig depending on where I find an event that interests me. Sometimes it’s at the cinema, sometimes in the east, or sometimes I’m just hanging out at any random bar. I’m often at the Kolonnadenstraße because they also have this amazing bookstore.
Oh yes, Rotorbooks!
Yes! That’s one of my go-to places. When I don’t know what to do, I just swing by there. I used to spend a lot of time in the West, and now it’s shifted a bit, but I can’t pinpoint it to one place. The events bring me all over.
It’s great to hear that you're enjoying the scene here, especially after 12 years in Berlin, where it can sometimes feel like Leipzig is a bit behind. Is there something you feel Leipzig could use more of in terms of culture?
This might be an unpopular opinion...
Go for it.
I think bars are culture. Sometimes, I find it strange that so much of the nightlife is concentrated along just four main streets in the city. You have Karl-Heine, Karl-Liebknecht, Kolonnadenstraße, and Eisenbahnstraße. That’s something I miss about Berlin, where you can find 25 bars within a one-kilometer radius, each with a focus on different types of music or atmosphere. I think Leipzig could use a bit more of that—curated bars. Oh, that sounds too posh…
I don't mean it that way at all. Just a bar where you can listen to fine music until five in the morning, sit around, talk, and maybe spin some records.
I get it. Like a small space where there's not really an event going on—it's just open, like you said, more like a living room or open bars. Yeah, that’s interesting.
Sometimes I find it a bit strange that here, you have to calculate where you’re going. I’m so used to just being somewhere, going to a bar, and if the music isn’t to my taste, I can just walk for a minute and try something else. You don’t get to do that much in Leipzig. You kind of have to know where you’re going when you leave the house. There’s something to that. I don’t mind it, but I would sometimes like to casually find spots with good music where you can sit around and chat until the sun rises. I think that's such a big part of culture. I realized I wanted to stay in Berlin when I met a friend for a beer, and suddenly it was six in the morning, and no one had kicked us out. We were sitting at the same table.
That's so nice. It’s true—what you said at the beginning about your space is important. It’s a place for spontaneous conversations that can be really moving, meeting people in person. It’s common to strike up a conversation with strangers at a bar, and I think that’s really important.
Absolutely. That’s something I really wanted to do with the space. I was so used to that white cube feeling from art events—so rigid. You walk in, see the artworks, have a five-minute conversation with the artist to congratulate them, and then leave for a bar with friends. I wonder what happens if you don’t do that, if you stick around, sit together, and have an open conversation with everyone about the project at hand. That’s such a different experience.. When you have time to spend around the art, when you have a meal together, when you actually sit at a table and discuss it, the artist can point out specific moments from their process. You see so many more intricacies and the behind-the-scenes story. Instead of just going in, consuming it, and leaving, I wanted to create something against that format—something that reinvents how we engage with art and allows us to really be transformed by it. So far, it’s been really magical in that sense.
I think Leipzig is a great place for that because many people crave a different perspective. Folks here think outside the box; the city is still developing. We don’t have many white cube spaces, and there are more people asking questions about how we can make it different. So maybe it’s a perfect place to do this. We haven’t talked much about Gohlis, the part of the city you’re in, but I think that’s an interesting aspect of your space because it poses a challenge in a way.
Yes, I think it will improve, but I can only hope. Sometimes I laugh at how difficult it becomes to ride your bike for 15 minutes, but everything is so reachable and accessible with a bike. I love that about this town.
Yes, people get lazy quickly. They say, “Oh my god, I’m not crossing the city; it takes 20 minutes.”
I find that cute. I’m so used to cycling 30–40 minutes just to meet someone who lives in the same neighborhood! That’s really standard in Berlin.
The last thing I want to ask is about what we’ve already discussed regarding what’s missing in Leipzig. We talked about the need for more open bars or living room-style places. There are a few, but they’re not easily accessible. On one hand, that’s cool; it’s very underground. You have to know about it to go there. But on the other hand, it doesn’t allow for the comfort you’re talking about. There’s already a kind of secretive, inaccessible vibe. So for the future of Leipzig's subculture and underground art scene, what do you think could make it more vibrant? What would you like to see shift or grow out of the scene you’re part of now?
I would love to see more street life—festivals and collaborative formats that are open.. It would be nice to have a system in place that allows all these initiatives—offspaces, bars, audio tours, and other underground happenings—to connect. What you’re doing with eos archive is a great example of this platform that brings us all together. It would be wonderful to easily exchange ideas, like, “Oh, you’re open for this open studio day. Maybe I’ll bring this project, and then you can come by my place to do something else.”
We should ask each other, “What else can we build? What can we put together with our different expertise?” Maybe we meet in the middle for an impromptu session in some random park and see what happens.
Yeah, I can imagine that as an extension of a general community fund for these kinds of projects. You have an idea, pitch it to someone you want to collaborate with, and then people can vote to provide funding for it.
Exactly! Imagine if we had a system in place for all of us to stay in touch, give each other feedback and set up spontaneous collaborations. It would be great if we didn’t have to navigate through institutions and permissions for this. Instead, we could quickly exchange messages and say, “Let’s make it happen.”
To me, eos archive—or what you’re building with this platform—is a really nice step in that direction. It helps us stay on each other’s radars and make our projects more accessible to everyone.
Thank you. That’s the hope: to create a network because I think that’s what’s lacking. People are so separate in their missions, collectives, and projects. The collectives are really strong in Leipzig, but inter-collective collaboration and networking could be powerful if we become aware of the possibilities that exist.
It was so nice to speak with you today, Cora. I think we have a lot to build together in the future, and there’s so much in this conversation that will inspire others.
Thanks for having me. I appreciate the invitation, and it’s an honor to be featured!
This conversation for eos archive was hosted by its founder, Micky Arratoon. Micky looks forward to hosting more conversations with those who are shaping and redefining subculture in Leipzig, Berlin and beyond. Get in touch to say hello@eosarchive.app.