‘I’d Rather Die Than Live Unfree’: A Chat With Susanne Leonhard, CEO Docks/Prinzenbar Hamburg

Susanne "Leo" Leonhard.
– Susanne “Leo” Leonhard.
CEO of two famous Hamburg institutions on Reeperbahn, Docks and Prinzenbar.

Docks and Prinzenbar, two venues on Hamburg’s Reeperbahn, usually host dozens of showcases during the annual Reeperbahn Festival, which is currently running as an online and offline hybrid edition.

Susanne Leonhard, CEO of Docks and Prinzenbar, decided not to take part in this year’s scaled-down and “pandemic proof” edition of Reeperbahn Festival with her venues and Pollstar wanted to know why.
At first, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to speak up at all, seeing that she’s been creating a lot of shit storms for her criticism of the response to COVID in the recent months.
But, in the end, she always arrives at the same conclusion: that it’s an absolute no-go to be living in an environment where people are made to feel like they cannot voice their opinions. 
“Would you go into a restaurant where you aren’t allowed to eat?”, she answered in response to the question of why she’s boycotting Reeperbahn Festival this year. It’s a rhetorical question, of course. 
“The way we’re allowed to do culture is hypocritical. To give a concert where you aren’t allowed to have a community spirit, because you need to maintain a distance, where you aren’t allowed to dance, is not a concert experience in my book,” she said, adding, “I’m not going to lead government to believe that we can do culture in this manner! It would be very hypocritical of me to take part in Reeperbahn Festival and be like, ‘here we go’.”
What is more, Leonhard sits on the executive board of Hamburg’s Clubkombinat, the association of the city’s club owners. She knows of at least 76 clubs that have been shut down and have been given “no perspective of when, if and how they will be allowed to reopen again.
“Reeperbahn Festival has so much money, they are allowed to go ahead under the current restrictions. If it was a festival for a Hamburg audience I might think differently. But to go ahead as an international event, expecting 2,000 visitors per day, while 76 clubs in Hamburg are closed and holding still – it’s like a slap in the face to those owners.
“I’m going to show my solidarity with all gastronomers and live clubs in Hamburg. It’s either all of us or none of us. You think I’m going to earn good money participating in Reeperbahn Festival, while everybody else is starving? No chance, I’d rather die,” Leonhard explained.
Leonhard has been observing that the youth in particular is suffering from the lack of social gatherings in the city. She began hosting seated DJ nights at Docks and Prinzenbar to get them off the streets and give them a space where they can listen to loud music. A seat gives you access to alcoholic beverages, no seat, no drink. “We’re constricting the freedom our young ones, who need places to meet,” she said. “My venues have great ventilation, I can host 300 at Docks, another 60 at Prinzenbar.”
Both venues offer space for up to 1,500 people in total during normal times.
Leonhard began hosting seated DJ nights at Docks and Prinzenbar.
– Leonhard began hosting seated DJ nights at Docks and Prinzenbar.
No seat, no drink.

The people who came to the first of these “supervised drinking” events, as Leonhard jokingly calls them, on Aug. 1, were “grateful and beaming. I made a profit of €350, but even if I host these events eight times a month, I won’t be able to survive,” she said. 

“I’m only opening so my night team continues to work, my DJs, bartenders, technicians, and security. I worry that if I don’t open, I won’t have anymore staff in a couple of years,” she continued.
Leonhard has the backing of her boss, who shares her political stance, as well as her commitment to keeping staff on the payroll. To guarantee the latter, neither Leonhoard nor her boss shy away from taking out private loans. Interest is low these days, one upside of the crisis.
As far as the governmental grants and loans are concerned, Leonhard has been beating her head against a brick wall. Because she’s been saving up to renew her 20-year old stage, she’s now solvent in the eyes of government and therefore not eligible for any of its programs.
For Leonhard, there’s no point opening up a venue of people aren’t allowed to dance: “If I’m happy, I jump around, I’m that kind of person. This ban on dancing goes completely against my human rights. As long as the dance ban is in place, I won’t bother promoting culture.
“I’m also not going to start policing my customers. If someone gets up from their barstool to stretch their legs and move a bit, I risk being fined €9,000,” she said, already envisioning her first court case, where she and a judge are going to try and define at what point movement constitutes dancing.
In August the German capital of Berlin, some 300 kilometers to the south-west of Hamburg, experienced one of the largest protests against the government’s lockdown measures in Europe so far.
Had it not clashed with Leonhard’s inaugural seated DJ event, she would have been on site herself. Her boss certainly went.
Leonhard is dismayed at the fact that most news reports focused on working out the exact number of participants at the protest, rather than on collecting and broadcasting the many voices and opinions on site. “They’re just being branded as idiots or worse,” she said.
As a journalist in Germany, this author can confirm that journalists working at the most popular news media are quick to brand anyone using terminology like “mainstream media” or “alternative news” as some kind of far-right extremist conspiracy nut. The public has adopted this stance to a large extent.
Leonhard has had to deal with a barrage of such accusations. “People are calling me a Nazi for questioning the government,” she said, adding that the current climate of division in Germany has instilled thoughts inside of her that ranged from emigration to suicide.
“If I set rules for my child, and my child is boycotting these rules, I’m not going to tell my child that he or she is too stupid to discuss with me. I’m going to ask my child, why is it that you’re rebelling against the rule? What are your arguments? Our government doesn’t seem to want to listen to the arguments,” Leonhard explained.
“I’ve told all of my staff that this is my stance, that my bosses went to the protest and are now, according to our press, Nazis, esoterics or idiots. You need to decide if you want to continue working for me. You cannot avoid having a personal opinion on the matter any longer,” she continued.
The debates around this crisis and the measures taken by governments have caused a rift among societies, not just in Germany. It’s the division among people that bothers Leonhard most.
She said, “I’ve fallen out with so many people, whom I really loved. I’ve told them all, ‘you may not share my opinion, but I would die so you can keep yours’. I’m just very critical, I have to be, I cannot remain silent. And I’d rather die than live unfree.”