The first Munich boazns opened at the turn of the century and are still an essential part of the city's history today. Young operators are now following the tradition, opening small pubs where people can drink beer, watch football and lose track of time.
“I'll do it as long as it's fun,“ says Irmgard Jörg, the operator of the “Bierschuppen“, a small pub in the Schlachthofviertel district. Irmgard, known as Irmi, will soon turn 82. Despite her two hip replacements and two new knees, she still stands behind the bar counter six days a week. Attentively, she refills customers' glasses as soon as they are empty, chats with regulars and sometimes even sits down for a drink with her guests.
Nothing about her appearance suggests that she is a passionate pub owner, popular and respected in her neighbourhood and one of the last real boazn owners in Munich.
With her thick, real-lens glasses, orange sweater and neatly blow-dried hair, Irmi looks like any other grandma. Nothing about her appearance suggests that she is a passionate pub owner, popular and respected in her neighbourhood and one of the last real boazn owners in Munich. Just like Renate from the boazn “Bei Otto“ with her blonde mane and Charlotte from the “Ungewitter“ in her elaborate make-up.
The term “boazn“ originates from the Hebrew “bajit“ or the Yiddish word “bajis“, which means “house“. In Upper Bavarian dialect, “boazn“ also means to keep someone waiting – like waiting for meat to be “cured,“ by marinating it for hours or even days. Incidentally, “boazns“ are also known in Austria, only there they are called “Beis(e)l“.
There are different opinions on what ultimately defines a boazn: Some describe it as a tiny pub, while others claim that only beer (from a wooden barrel) and schnapps may be served there. For some, a boazn must have a slot machine, a TV airing football matches, and background radio music. A few of these places offer finger foods, such as sausage rolls or Hawaiian toast. However, everyone agrees on one thing: A boazn is a cosy spot – so cosy that you forget the time while lingering there.
What defines a boazn? For some, a boazn must have a slot machine, a TV airing football matches, and background radio music.
The first Munich boazns were established at the turn of the century. At the time of industrialisation, they were a popular evening retreat for newcomers and workers. Today, the “Johannis Café“ in the Haidhausen district is one of Munich's oldest boazns, having opened its doors in 1924. But some of the Munich cult pubs from the 70s, 80s and 90s have also survived to this day.
Irmi and her husband opened the “Bierschuppen“ pub in the mid-1980s. It was originally his dream, as she didn't even drink alcohol back then. “It wasn't my cup of tea,“ she recalls, “but now it's fun!“. When Irmi and her husband separated shortly after, she took over the boazn. Initially opening at 8.30 in the morning, the “Bierschuppen” was a breakfast spot for drivers and staff from the wholesale market. Today, 11 am is early enough, since the neighbourhood has changed.
The small pub in the Schlachthofviertel will soon celebrate its 40th anniversary – and not only the owner, but also the regulars are excited. Genuine friendships have blossomed here: Every year, on Irmi's birthday, a large floral wreath adorns the pub window, marking her new age – 80, 81 and Irmi has captured and documented every moment. Her loyal customers once even invited her on a sightseeing flight over Chiemsee (lake).
Behind the counter hangs a wall calendar, similar to those in open-plan offices, in which she meticulously noted the birthdays of her regular customers.
In return, the boazn owner is very caring about her guests: Behind the counter hangs a wall calendar, similar to those in open-plan offices, in which she meticulously noted the birthdays of her regular customers. Irmi proudly mentions that there are four people from the neighbourhood who would be willing to take her for her hip check the next day. And whenever one of the neighbours doesn't drop by for a few days, people get worried, enquire and ring the doorbell.
The “Bierschuppen” is tiny, no bigger than a typical living room: There's barely room for a solid wood corner bench with a matching table and chairs. A handful of stools line the bar, while personal photos, certificates and autograph collections adorn the walls. As befits a proper living room, a curtain shields the space from prying eyes. It's this curtain that often deters newcomers from entering.
However, once inside and with a beer in hand, conversation flows immediately. Irmi keeps disappearing into a small kitchen behind the bar to fetch fresh glasses. It really does feel a bit like being in her home. Over the decades, the “Bierschuppen” has become a living room for the whole neighbourhood.
The Geyerwally, just a few streets away, also exudes a cosy living room vibe, albeit with a much younger crowd. Nevertheless, the pub itself is one of the oldest in the city and celebrated its 66th anniversary last year with a big backyard party and live music. Instead of slot machines and Sky broadcasts, the Geyerwally offers craft beer and trendy pretzel snacks from a Munich start-up.
Instead of slot machines and Sky broadcasts, the Geyerwally offers craft beer and trendy pretzel snacks from a Munich start-up.
This is mainly thanks to the young operators: Maximilian Heisler, rent activist and restaurateur, took over the popular pub on the outskirts of the Glockenbach district in 2015 together with four friends. The Geyerwally is a special place – but it has an expiry date. The entire building at Geyerstrasse 17 has been standing vacant for 40 years, with only the pub on the ground floor still breathing life into the old walls.
Once notorious for its dubious reputation and stories of the landlord lying drunk behind the bar, the Geyerwally has now transformed into a more refined, student-oriented and alternative establishment, featuring 0.33-litre beers, flap caps and lattice-cut potatoes. 17 different beers are served, including several varieties from the Tilmans craft beer brewery in Munich.
Posters, retro enamel signs and curiosities hang on the walls, including a glowing taxi sign and a complete football table.
Inside the pub, it looks like a jumble sale: Posters, retro enamel signs and curiosities hang on the walls, including a glowing taxi sign and a complete football table. You can't help but looking and discover something new every time you visit. Much of it is the legacy of the previous owner, the Munich original Rainer Maria Strixner. Stixner was not only an innkeeper, a wood sculptor and artist, but also active with his theatre group “Variete Spectaculum” for many years.
In recent years, Maximilian Heisler has co-opened the “Boazeria“ alongside the craft beer bar “Frisches Bier”. He describes it as a modern “Giesinger Boazn with a longing for Bella Italia.“ Also the “Boazn,“ a unique blend of bar, kiosk, and dance club, located right on the Isar river, only opened its doors in the summer of 2023. But can the distinctive boazn charm simply be re-opened? And what fuels young people's longing for these traditional pubs?
"The more chic bars open, the more people long for simplicity."
One person who could shed some light on this is cabaret artist Martin Emmerling, who introduced the “Boazn Quartett“ many years ago. This card game assembles and honours the city's “last boazns“ – and is particularly popular among the younger crowd. Emmerling is convinced that “the more chic bars emerge, the more people yearn for the simple things again“.
Boazns offer a combination, which is rare in Munich: Affordable beer and late opening hours. They often serve as a neighbourhood gathering spot for a nightcap before heading home – for example the “Bei Dagmar“ in Sendling, the “Bam Bam“ in the Westend, or the “Le Clou“ in the old town. Although their numbers have significantly declined in recent years, boazns are far from extinct. There are not only young guests, but also young operators, who want to continue the tradition – like Luca Neenen, who is in his late twenties and runs the “Bumsvoll” pub in the Giesing neighbourhood.
The young generation of locals is keen to preserve this piece of the city's history: Bildhauer, for example, gained citywide recognition years ago with his “Munich Boazn“ guides – the first of these three books served as his final project for his graphic design degree. Or director Johannes Boos, who dedicated his 2017 film “Hinter Milchglas und Gardinen“ (Behind Frosted Glass and Curtains) to the boazns and “stüberl” in the former working-class district of Giesing. All of this is archived in Miriam Worek's travelling art project “ZEITkapsel“. Why is this archiving important? Because Munich's boazns are both: Cult and culture.
