Bearpit Karaoke, Berlin: Review with time, location and price

Bearpit Karaoke in Berlin’s Mauerpark costs nothing, and takes place every Sunday at 3pm – weather permitting

What is Bearpit Karaoke in Berlin?

Bearpit Karaoke in Berlin is karaoke, but in front of an audience of hundreds.

Where is Bearpit Karaoke in Berlin?

Bearpit Karaoke takes places inside a concrete amphitheatre at the Mauerpark. This is on the former course of the Berlin Wall, in the Prenzlauerberg district.

How much does Bearpit Karaoke cost?

There is no charge for taking part in Bearpit Karaoke in Berlin’s Mauerpark. It is also free to watch.

Bearpit Karaoke start time: When does it happen?

Berlin’s Bearpit Karaoke takes place on Sunday afternoons at 3pm – providing the weather is good. Updates on whether the event will take place are provided over social media.

Bearpit Karaoke review

This is an awful time to realise that I don’t actually know the words. In front of me is a thousand-strong crowd, one that has been collectively consuming beer with gusto all afternoon. They have come for entertainment and, unfortunately, that entertainment is me. For a not even faintly gifted amateur, this is a terrifying prospect.

When did Berlin’s Bearpit karaoke start?

Bearpit Karaoke is a very Berlin enterprise. It kicked off in early 2009 when bike courier Joe Hatchiban got hold of a car battery and some speakers. “I already had the cargo bike,” he says. “So I started rolling around town to see if I could get people to sing, and put the videos on YouTube.”

One Sunday afternoon, he rocked up at the Mauerpark – a rather scrappy piece of parkland that runs along where the Berlin Wall used to stand. He saw the weekend flea market, and decided to set up his equipment in the graffiti-strewn amphitheatre built into the side of a hill. A few curious shoppers wandered over for an impromptu singalong.

Sunday afternoons in the Mauerpark

He came back the next week, and the crowd grew. Since then, providing the weather has held out, Joe’s karaoke bike has been a regular Sunday afternoon fixture in the Mauerpark.

The speed with which the amphitheatre fills when Joe shows up is astonishing. A smattering of die-hards are there before 3pm in anticipation, but as soon as Joe arrives, there’s a stampede to find a seat.

One chap, clearly the worse for wear, decides that he will just lie down behind the bike for the duration. To his credit, Joe pretends not to notice the snoozing karaoke tramp as a stream of singers brave the bearpit.

Some are clearly regulars, such as the chap in an ill-fitting suit who shuffles on and belts out a German version of My Way before disappearing with his shopping bags. Others clearly fancy themselves as real singers – the girl from Manchester sassing up 99 Red Balloons has clearly had training.

The best song to sing at Bearpit Karaoke?

But the vast majority are just up for a laugh. And the bearpit roars and applauds far louder for the flawed but enthusiastic. One pair show incredible balls by getting up to ‘sing’ Tequila by The Champs. They end up prancing around the stage for three minutes, throwing increasingly silly dance moves and occasionally yelling “TEQUILA!” It’s a masterpiece.

There’s a tremendous atmosphere; a real community feel infused with a delicious sense of humour and good-natured appreciation of the inherent absurdity.

That feelgood vibe continues right up to the point where I’m on the stage, staring at a legion of people who’ve been buying beers off the enterprising salesmen for the last two hours. The cosy happiness turns to outright fear. Particularly when I realise that, unlike normal karaoke, the lyrics will not be in front of me.

The Bearpit Karaoke experience

There’s only one way to go: full-on, no holds barred prank monkey. As the opening bars of Whitesnake’s Here I Go Again blast out of the speakers, I prepare to sacrifice pitch, subtlety and correct lyrics on the altar of volume and showmanship. They don’t care if I hit the note; they just want me to go for it at full power.

I launch into a shamelessly exhibitionist display of primeval roaring, camp strutting, air guitars and desperate arm whirling. The crowd claps along and cheers, getting behind the bellowing incompetent served up to them. It feels incredible; what should be a thoroughly humiliating experience leaves me beaming as I skulk off. Joe has created a monster – but an utterly loveable one.

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