Jersey local Liam Mitchell lived in Berlin between 2014 and 2023. Seeking adventure and a taste of life abroad, he honed in on Berlin for its reputation as a Mecca for techno clubs and DJing. This the city delivered in spades, but he also discovered there an international melting pot with thriving arts and history, plus a sense of freedom facilitated by relatively low cost of living. Alongside producing music and playing gigs, he supported himself with freelance writing work. Currently based back on the island, he sat down with Viv Le Vav to discuss the differences and parallels of their respective journeys.
Eddy Bailhache moved to Berlin, Germany in 2017. Originally from Jersey, he now lives in a yurt he built himself, in a woodsy commune of like-minded people near Weißensee in the former East. He acknowledges that his lifestyle is not typical – for the city, or in general. “If you talk to anyone that moves to Berlin now, what won’t come to their mind is people living in caravans or yurts or squats. But I think from living in this way, I’ve connected more with people. We have someone living in a tiny house on the same land. We’re connected to lots of people living in that alternative way.”
He decided on Berlin on a whim after a few short visits, and started Viv Le Vav as a solo music project around the same time. “It’s myself on stage, sometimes with backing elements, but mostly quite a live setup.” The sound combines experimental beats and synth-work with singer-songwriter vocals and arrangements in the tradition of The Beatles. “In a sense it’s minimalism, like Philip Glass meets ‘70s vibes, drum machines and keyboards and things, but more repetitive and dance influence for sure.”
Over time, Viv Le Vav – short for Vivian Le Vavasseur – grew into more of a creative alter- ego. “It’s an artist name that has morphed into being how people know me and how I think of myself. It’s actually taken from both sides of my family. I don’t feel like I’m trying to escape any element of myself. It’s more just different dimensions of yourself. It drives a lot of my creativity, cosplaying in different things.”
Alongside promoting himself as a pop musician, Viv teaches piano and singing, works on theatre projects, works as a songwriter and composer in different ways. “Then I come back to the island and play organ for funerals, weddings and services. These are all different strings to a musical bow. There’s a bit of a societal judgment, I think, that you see the Ed Sheerans and Taylor Swifts of this world and judge everyone by that mark. But that’s never really been the way. You know, Mozart also taught music all his life.”
Earlier this year, Viv invited producer Drew Deal to an informal concert hosted at his yurt, where he sang and performed on an old, out of tune, upright piano. “It’s a very different style to some of the previous recordings that I’ve done. And Drew said, ‘I want to make something in this way, with a real feeling of, here’s a guy living in a yurt in Berlin, writing songs that are very emotional and direct.’”
The resulting work leans away from the ‘digital experience’ of modern production. Viv and Drew put together a jazz ensemble of piano, drums and double bass, then rehearsed and recorded live, running everything through a chain of analog gear to give the sound character. “It’s the idea of creating a vibe, a feeling, so people listen and they think, ‘I could imagine that happening in a room somewhere’ – for us, in a 33-degree, horribly sweaty room in south Berlin.” The forthcoming release also features Viv singing in Jèrriais for the first time.
“I love where I live because it is a really bizarre juxtaposition to Jersey. I grew up in the countryside, Jersey’s very green. A lot of Berlin feels harsh, I think, to British sensibility at least. Big wide roads, big buildings and this sort of empty feeling sometimes.” Open space also permits new communities to pop up, bringing fresh ideas to rejuvenate the city’s social and creative energy.
“The idea that I can rent some land that used to be a tramway in part of the Stasigebiet in East Berlin, and it’s got an old DDR watchtower next to it that’s been left there for 30 years, and no one’s developed it, or no one really values it. That feels very Berlin, you know? And it exists in pockets, but who’s to say if it will exist in ten years’ time?” The past feels live and tangible in Jersey too, as wartime bunkers are repurposed and private gardens encroach on ancient dolmens.
Like Berlin, the island has its own identity and unique history. There are more limited offerings here for work and creative expression, but you find Jersey expat communities that flourish all over the globe. “I think Jersey connections are special. But what I’ve noticed, especially moving from London to Berlin, I’ve realised I’m a proud Jersey-man! You know, much more than was obvious to me when I was in England.”
He identifies the ‘island mentality’ that we experience here. “There is this feeling that you can get to know a place really well, because it has clear boundaries. It’s all very connected. But growing up, I always went to the Arts Centre to see all these classical musicians who would come over. I never thought the scene was limited to the people that are here. And if something doesn’t exist then there is the potential to make it happen.”
Would Viv return home to settle, then, or is it an open question at this point? “Yeah, why is it always returning home to settle? Why isn’t it returning home to Jersey to explore and go deeper and experience culture here? That’s another way of looking at it. But I think if you grow up in Jersey, we think of this boomerang thing of, you go away, you come back, and that there’s something to be learned from going away and there’s nothing to be learned from coming back. But I think there’s a lot to be… It’s all about yourself. It’s all about how you see the world.”
Words: Liam Mitchell
Photography: Arthur Laidlaw
