Halle (Saale), Saxony-Anhalt, Germany
Once a thriving industrial hub that exported printing inks worldwide, the historic, 1905-founded Hallische Farbenfabrik survived world wars and GDR expropriation, only to close for good in 1994.
Despite its architectural significance and a failed, ambitious dream to resurrect the vacant complex as Saxony-Anhalt's most famous nightclub, the towering monument now stands forlornly—a structural marvel with no future
The water tower rising above the abandoned grounds of the Hallische Farbenfabrik (Halle Paint and Ink Factory) is Ammendorf’s tallest landmark. Industrial history has left sticky traces here—and soon, Saxony-Anhalt’s most famous disco plans to move into the ruins.
The floor gleams as if freshly polished in the twilight filtering through narrow, dusty windows. But watch your step: that shiny surface is actually a pool of indefinable liquid—pitch-black like tar and sticky as the slime from Ghostbusters.
There is a peculiar smell. A mixture of bleach and paint hangs in the air like an invisible cloud, filling the long corridors and gloomy halls of the former headquarters of the Hallische Farben- und Druckfarbenfabrik in Halle-Ammendorf.
Erich and Walter Hartmann founded the Halle-Ammendorf Chemical Factory here in 1905, initially operating out of the Schulze & Schreiner fertilizer plant. In 1924, the brothers commissioned architect Hermann Frede—who had already designed their two villas on Neuwerk—to build a new corporate headquarters.
Together with his colleague J. C. Moebius, Frede—the creator of the "Garden City" district at Mühlrain in Halle—designed an "impressive factory complex featuring a water tower that defines the cityscape" (as described by heritage conservationists) on the 20,000-square-meter site.
Concealed behind brickwork, the elevated tank still towers over the "asymmetrically grouped, cubic structures," whose facades are "articulated by bands and edges in the style of Weimar Republic industrial architecture."
It is a building of "exceptional quality," situated right on the arterial road to Merseburg, on a site that had become Halle’s first chemical park following the turn of the century. Numerous companies in the industry operated here on the outskirts of the city.
Like most others, the printing and leather dye factory was expropriated after World War II and—as VEB Druck- und Lederfarbenfabrik Halle—became part of the Lacke und Farben (Paints and Varnishes) industrial combine. From its site on Merseburger Straße, the company supplied some 1,500 different types of ink and dye to 1,200 businesses across the country. These products were used to print on glass, fabrics, flooring, wallpaper, furniture, and even microchips.
The company exported to twenty countries. Shortly before the end of the GDR, the workforce celebrated a major breakthrough: for the first time, they had succeeded in producing durable water-based inks that eliminated the need for solvents. Yet even this could not save the GDR’s monopoly supplier of printing inks.
After separating from its parent combine, the Ammendorf-based firm found a partner in Hartmann Druckfarben of Frankfurt am Main—a company with which it even shared common roots, although the West German branch was by then merely a subsidiary of the US firm Sun Chemical. However, this new beginning was short-lived; operations ceased for good in 1994.
What remained was an impressive architectural monument—listed under reference number 09412164—and a vast "development site," as real estate agents marketed it. Their efforts were in vain, however, as the office building, warehouses, and three-story factory structure were ill-suited to modern production requirements.
Shortly after the closure, heritage conservationists raised a dramatic alarm regarding the potential loss of historic building fabric. They warned that unless action was taken quickly, this structure would fall into ruin like so many others—fears that ultimately proved unfounded.
After standing vacant for a quarter of a century, the paint factory shows little more than superficial damage. Debris lies in the corners, graffiti artists have tried their hand at the walls, and the roof leaks. Yet the structure itself has withstood the test of time.
Most recently, a nightclub operator wanted to move into the heritage-listed building and revitalize the old factory. He had already mapped out exactly where the main hall, the lounge, and the bars would be located. Costs remained somewhat uncertain, however, given the building's condition and potential regulatory requirements. "Maybe a million," he said. "We’ll be doing a lot of the work ourselves."
The plan to save the historic structure by turning it into a nightclub remained just a dream. To this day, the paint factory stands forlornly in the landscape—the tallest building for miles around. A building with no future.
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