When we visited Berlin, we made a point of taking a detour to the TASCHEN store. In a city with so many museums, monuments, and neighbourhoods to explore, a bookshop might seem like a modest addition to the itinerary. For us, it belonged there. Books are part of how we discover places, connect ideas, and extend the pleasure of travelling. As TASCHEN affiliates, we also had a particular reason to visit. We wanted to discover the publisher beyond its website, surrounded by its books.
Outside, a blue pavement sign offered a simple invitation: “Books for Optimists.” Against the pale façade, beneath the TASCHEN lettering and dark awnings, those words made an appealing introduction. There is something optimistic about entering a bookshop, after all. You go in expecting that someone else’s work might open a door, introduce an unfamiliar subject, or give shape to an interest you have not yet explored. It was a fitting message for a visit driven by curiosity, with no particular title we needed to find.
Located on Schlüterstraße, in Charlottenburg, the store gave our itinerary another destination beyond Berlin’s major landmarks. Once inside, the visual richness extended well beyond the covers. Warm wooden shelving lined the walls, while long tables and low display units presented books face up, inviting a closer look. White walls provided space for photographs and framed illustrations. Beneath everything, blue-and-white geometric tiles gave the rooms a distinctive rhythm. Depending on the pattern, the floor seemed to shift between stars, triangles, and interlocking shapes.
Designed in collaboration with the Milanese duo Stampanoni and Licitra, the store extends across five rooms and features Gio Ponti tiles. Yet the architectural details never seemed detached from the books. The shelving, display surfaces, and wall arrangements brought different formats into view without making everything compete for attention. Some books stood upright like individual exhibits; others lay in stacks or rested open on stands. The result suggested a bookshop with something of a gallery’s approach to presentation, while keeping the publications at the centre of the experience.
Photography was particularly prominent. The names David Bailey and Annie Leibovitz appeared above displays where large books lay open beneath framed images. Elsewhere, Sebastião Salgado’s Amazônia had its own presentation, with black-and-white photographs arranged above a reading stand. These displays made the relationship between a photograph on a wall and an image reproduced in a book especially clear. Each format offers a different encounter. One holds your attention from a distance; the other draws you towards a sequence, a page, and the possibility of looking further.
The range of subjects also emerged through the contrasts between displays. A colourful Pucci volume shared a shelf with a sculptural figure and packaging bearing the name Tom of Finland. A Norman Foster presentation introduced architecture, while another area carried Gio Ponti’s name above framed works and a small seating arrangement. These changes of subject gave the rooms their own points of interest. Moving through them meant moving between creative disciplines, with the design of the store providing continuity.
Elsewhere, shelves and tables brought together cinema, music, sport, travel, and art. A bright yellow Lakers cover stood out among the publications, while another section gathered books devoted to cities and destinations. That breadth speaks to our own interests. On our blog, a musical discovery can sit alongside a museum visit, a travel experience, or a reflection on a book. We enjoy following those connections. A photograph can make us curious about a city; a film can lead us towards an artist; an artist can change how we look at an ordinary street.
The oversized books were another reminder of what a screen cannot fully communicate. Seeing an illustrated volume open across a generous spread gives its scale a practical meaning. The image has room to unfold, and the composition becomes part of the encounter. One particularly colourful open book captured that sense of abundance. It sat in a red case, with ribbon markers spilling over its edge. It also illustrated why these publications reward an unhurried approach: sometimes a single spread contains enough detail to occupy your attention before you even think about turning the page.
Our affiliation with TASCHEN is worth mentioning openly: purchases made through affiliate links on our blog may earn us a commission. Visiting the store gave that connection a more tangible context. It offered an opportunity to consider how these books are presented and how their subjects relate to what we share with readers. Beyond any individual recommendation, the visit reinforced the pleasure of encountering books without needing to make an immediate decision. A title can remain in your mind as a possibility, waiting for the right moment.
Looking back, we are glad we made the detour. Between the pavement sign, the patterned floors, the photographic displays, and the shelves full of competing invitations, the store offered plenty to discover. Berlin’s museums and monuments gave us encounters with history and art on a grand scale. This visit added something more intimate: time spent among books, following our interests from one room to the next. “Books for Optimists” felt like an appropriate thought to take away. There is always another subject to explore, another image to examine, and another reason to remain curious.
Taschen FR
