A ball-on-a-stick TV tower over a modest roofscape.
Berlin’s skyline is anchored by a television tower: a slim shaft, a sphere, and a thin spire. Even when the sphere simplifies, the needle still reads as an observation stick, not an office block. Beside it, a twin-spired church mass (or similar Gothic pair) gives a historic counterweight to the socialist-modern tower. The rest is blocky postwar slabs — lower and more regular than London’s novelty towers. There is no Eiffel taper and no giant riverside wheel. If one very thin mast with a bulge dominates a modest European roofscape, choose Berlin. The ball-on-a-stick is the landmark; everything else is supporting chorus.