Once a shabby craftsmen's quarter, then a daring red-light district, today a nightlife hub, centre of the gay scene and queer community and one of the city's most popular residential areas: the Glockenbachviertel district.
It feels like the beating heart of Munich: Life always pulsates here – at lunchtime, in the early evening or at five in the morning. When you meet young people from other big cities who are considering moving to Munich, you inevitably hear sentences like: “Well, I really like this neighbourhood by the Isar!“ However, the euphoria is dampened when the locals mention that finding a free apartment in Isarvorstadt, as the Glockenbach district is officially known, is like winning the lottery. So why is the Glockenbachviertel so popular? The answer lies with the city's river.
The nearby Isar river has shaped the neighbourhood's past and present. Let's start with the present. Many neighbourhoods cluster around Munich's old town: the noisy area around the railway station, the bustling Maxvorstadt, the chic-sophisticated Lehel neighbourhood – and the Glockenbachviertel. The latter is primarily associated with leisure, fun and dolce vita, with the Isar playing a key role: In summer, a steady stream of mostly young people flows between the city centre and the Isar.
Even in winter, the river remains the lifeblood of the area. When the weather gets chilly and the stunning Alpine views fade behind thick fog, you can still let your gaze wander into the distance along the Isar. And don't forget the neighbourhood's namesake, the Glockenbach stream, which also draws from the Isar. It runs underground, branching off from the Westermühlbach stream, which is overgrown like a deep forest – creating the most idyllic scene. That is exactly why people want to live here – the problem is that so many share the same dream.
Centuries ago, the story was quite different. In the late Middle Ages, a bell foundry occupied the site of the original part of today's Old South Cemetery. It was located at the city gates, right next to a small artificial stream that consequently became known as the Glockenbach – bell stream. At that time, the Glockenbach was just one of over 50 canals that ran through the city and were all fed by the Isar. Countless mill wheels turned in these streams – before industrialisation, water power was the only usable energy in cities.
The names of these streams reflect the ways they were utilised: in addition to the Glockenbach, there were the Westermühlbach (West-Mill Stream), Dreimühlenbach (Three-Mills Stream), and Gipsmühlenbach (Gypsum-Mill Stream). What appears to us today as the epitome of an urban idyll – many small streams flowing through a neighbourhood shaped by craftsmanship – was anything but a prime location a few hundred years ago. The streams carried away waste and caused foul odours. Even a slight rise in water levels let the canals swell and flood the entire area. The neighbourhood was also considered an unclean industrial area, where people worked, sweated and swore.
The wealthy citizens feared the noxious vapours, believing they could make them ill. The fact that the plague cemetery was also located here from the 16th century onwards, only added to the area’s reputation as a dangerous cesspit.
Around Gärtnerplatz (which, strictly speaking, is not part of the Glockenbachviertel, but the Gärtnerplatzviertel – even though many people consider Gärtnerplatz to be part of the Glockenbachviertel), prestigious buildings were constructed from the mid-19th century, including the Gärtnerplatztheater, which opened in 1865 with its neoclassical elegance reminiscent of Vienna. However, most of the development consists of relatively simple apartment blocks and winding courtyards, often housing single-story workshops.
The craftsmanship that once characterised the district has largely disappeared. Yet, there are still old businesses in some niches, such as a small, very charming car repair shop in Müllerstrasse opposite a specialised foam company. Not far away is a master workshop for locks and keys. And there is also a long-established shoemaker's shop on the Isar. However, most of the old workshops are now home to boutiques and offices where people wearing unusually designed glasses work on Apple computers.
The fact that the Glockenbachviertel was a simple, proletarian neighbourhood had another effect that still characterises the district today. From the early 20th century, it was one of the city's red-light districts: Butchers from the nearby abattoir, actors, artists, students, bohemians, bon vivants and tramps came here to enjoy themselves in the countless smoky beer dens. A good example is the Deutsche Eiche, a pub that functioned as a kind of canteen for the Gärtnerplatztheater.
In the 1920s, the pub was run by a formidable lady pimp known as Napoleon, whose fierce assertiveness is still talked about today. After the Second World War, the Glockenbachviertel initially became a nightlife district for American soldiers and soon became home to the city's most notorious rock 'n' roll bars. While the crowd in Schwabing and Maxvorstadt was more student-oriented, the Glockenbachviertel had a reputation as a tough place, with rough characters on every corner, whose provocative looks you preferred to avoid.
The carefree atmosphere of the former red-light district and its natural distance from the authorities turned the Glockenbachviertel into a gathering place for gay individuals as early as the 1920s. In 1969, shortly after the decriminalisation of homosexuality, Germany's first leather gay bar, the Ochsengarten, opened on Müllerstrasse and is still in operation to this day.
This was followed by countless gay cafés, bistros and pubs with illustrious names such as Kraftakt, Feuerwache and Rendezvous. One notable institution is the Deutsche Eiche – a pub, hotel and legendary “men's bathhouse“. Rainer Werner Fassbinder and Freddie Mercury were frequent guests here.
The extent to which homosexuality and the entire LGBTQ+ culture has been normalised today in Munich becomes evident in the Glockenbach district’s same-sex and hand-holding traffic light figures, which have become popular photo motifs.
In the 1980s, this visibility and normalisation was not yet fully achieved. By 1993, the young priest Rainer Maria Schießler took over the pastoral care at the Catholic church of St Maximilian, a massive neo-Romanesque building on the Isar. He later became known beyond the region because he filled the church to capacity every Sunday with his engaging nature, broad Bavarian dialect and warm-hearted manner. He also worked as a waiter at the Oktoberfest. To this day, everyone in the Glockenbach neighbourhood loves him.
He noticed that many of the gay men in the neighbourhood, especially those who had moved from rural Bavaria, were also Catholic but did not feel accepted by the church. Finally, he came up with an idea: He organised the procession through the Glockenbach district on what is perhaps the most beautiful Catholic holiday, Corpus Christi – the celebration of the Real Presence of the Lord. In 2006, he set up four field altars in front of gay bars.
When the procession paused in front of the Nil Cafe & Bar on Hans-Sachs-Strasse and the incense wafted into the sky, windows on the first floor opened and gay men showered rose petals down on the priest and his altar boys. It doesn't get more Bavarian than this – right in the heart of the city.
There's never a dull moment when you stroll through the Glockenbachviertel. You come across ageing gay men, often dressed in dark leather, eager to tell stories about the wild 1980s, Fassbinder and Freddie Mercury. If you are lucky, you'll also spot homosexuals in a different kind of leather: members of the city's famous “Schwuhplattler“ (gay folk dancers) in traditional Bavarian dress. Leisurely strolling by, you'll see women who own small boutiques tucked in the alleys, offering fashion and ceramics. Meanwhile, vinyl collectors, shuffling casually, carry home their new treasures, freshly purchased from one of Europe's largest and best-stocked record stores, the Optimal on Kolosseumstrasse.
In the early evening hours, affluent agency employees head to one of the new casual fine-dining restaurants, where they savour multi-course menus paired with natural cloudy wine. A steady stream of young people passes by, clutching either a bottle of Spezi (orange soda and cola) or a cup of flat white, depending on their level of sophistication, and head towards the Isar River. All this happens during the day. As darkness falls, the night crowd flocks to Glockenbach. Colourful – that's an attribute that many cities strive for these days. In the Glockenbachviertel, diversity is not just an empty phrase: it's the fabric of everyday life.