Die beste Bildung

My hostel in Hamburg was good – the location was accessible, the decor was hip, the staff were helpful, and the six-person room had an en suite bathroom. But I didn’t quite enjoy my stay because I had different but equally horrible roommates every night. (On the first night I had two middle-aged men who stank and snored; on the second night there was a group of four that removed my belongings from my bed while I was blogging in the lobby, and thereby forced me to relocate to a distant corner of the room. And on the third night came another group of four that scattered their dirty clothes all over the place and made it almost impossible to get from the door to my corner.) So I am immensely glad that instead of staying in a hostel again, I am couch-surfing here in Copenhagen. So far it has been wonderful!

I met my hostess Fe (short for Fernanda) at my hostel in Berlin on my second visit. A native of Sao Paulo, Brazil, she has been in Copenhagen since late December last year in order to do her master’s degree in anthropology at the University of Copenhagen. When I told her that I would be coming to Copenhagen after my travels in Germany, she very graciously invited me to stay at her apartment, so that is what I am doing now.

My first full day began with a breakfast with Fe. Danish blueberry yoghurt mixed with honey and kiwi slices and topped with muesli made for an extremely clever combination. The fresh Danish bread that came next was better than anything I had in Germany (which says a lot, because Germans are already very good with bread), and the boysenberry jam was so delicious that I am considering getting some as a souvenir!

Left: The best breakfast I’ve had in 6 weeks; Right: One of Copenhagen’s many canals

After Fe gave me a walking tour of the most popular and beautiful district of the city, I explored the city on my own. It was not easy navigating a place on your own, when the main language is one you do not understand. Although Danish has its similarities with both German and English, I was still very confused, and struggled with the ticketing machine at the Metro station for 10 minutes before I could go to the neighbourhood of Christianhavn. There, a brief visit to the theatre-like Christians Kirke was followed by a climb up the tower of Vor Frelsers Kirke, one of the most prominent landmarks that define Copenhagen’s skyline. The difference between this climb and the one I did at St. Jacobis in Hamburg was that the last 150 steps of the climb wrap around the spire instead of going up inside it. This exposed me to the strong winds which threatened to blow my camera (and perhaps me as well) away, but in turn it offered me a most spectacular view of the entire Copenhagen – spires of other churches, parks, palaces, the cutting-edge architecture of the Opera House, Royal Play House and the Royal Library (nicknamed the Black Diamond), traditional Scandinavian buildings, canals and the magnificent harbour. There were a few clouds in the sky, but visibility was excellent and made for the most exciting and enjoyable tower climb I have done.

Left: The towering spire of Vor Frelsers Kirke; View of the harbour

One of the reasons why I insisted on coming to Scandinavia, although Professor Jennings advised me to go to Italy instead, is that brilliant modern architecture is an integral part of the culture here, so I made the Dansk Architektur Center my next stop. The current exhibition was on the work of Norman Foster, probably the most successful living architect in the world. Titled Foster+Partners: Working with History, it focused on how Foster’s additions or modifications to old buildings gave them a fresh face while preserving the history that makes them special.

Left: Dansk Architektur Center; Right: Inside the Foster+Partners: Working with History exhibit

Featured projects included the Reichstagsgebäude, Dresden Hauptbahnhof, the Smithsonian Institution, the British Museum, the Elephant House at Copenhagen’s Zoologisk Have, and some others that are yet to be realized but equally creative and aesthetically pleasant. In addition to architectural drawings, computer visualizations and photos of the finished products, there were also detailed models for each project. One of them illustrated the evolution of the Reichstagsgebäude dome design in 15 steps. It was quite staggering to see how much steps were involved before the eventual magnificent product came into being! Having stayed in the small but interesting exhibition halls for half an hour or so, I spent some time browsing the collections of the adjacent architecture bookstore. It had an impressive variety of titles, both for the coffee table and for serious study. Had I the money and the baggage allowance, I definitely would have picked up a few. But since I need to ration my funds carefully in order to prevent bankruptcy in this ridiculously expensive country, and knowing that Amazon.com would probably have these books at more attractive prices anyway, I just wrote down a few ISBNs and left.

Left: Model of the Reichstagsgebäude Dome; Right: Bookstore of the Dansk Architektur Center

After wandering in the shopping district and stopping briefly by two free jazz concerts (the Copenhagen Jazz Festival runs from 3rd to 12th July), I spotted the large Nikolaj Kirke and decided to walk in. Surprisingly, this 13th century church has been converted into a museum for contemporary Danish art, and even more surprisingly, unlike most museums in Copenhagen, this one has rather long opening hours. The exhibits on the first floor did not quite suit my tastes – one artist did a video montage of himself singing more than 1000 love songs, almost invariably off pitch, and another invited friends and acquiantances to write expletives and insults on his arm, and had them carved onto his skin so as to create an inkless tattoo (there are extremely few art forms which I despise more than body art). But the second floor, dedicated to alternative culture, was worth the visit. I liked Flemming Rolighed’s Darkroom, created by a net of work gloves knotted to each other at the middle finger. Visitors were invited to walk in and experience the blend of encirclement and solidarity felt by those who do not fit into mainstream society. Elmgreen and Dragset’s The Incidental Self, Fig 4, which envisioned a world without discrimination, was equally thought-provoking.

Left: Darkroom by Flemming Rolighed; Right: The Incidental Self, Fig 4 by Elmgreen and Dragset

Then I did a bit more random strolling, and came across a very talented street artist who goes by the name Derek Derek. Not only was he a brilliant flame juggler who seemed to have absolutely no fear at all, he also had a good sense of humour and knew very well how to work a crowd. His demonstrations of “juggling around the world”, which spoofed regional stereotypes, were most hilarious – Italian juggling involved striking ostentatious poses as if one were on a fashion runway, Icelandic juggling was holding the flame torches in the way a Neanderthal would, and Swedish juggling was laying the torches on the ground and shuffling them like one would while playing Solitaire! By the time he finished his last act, which involved juggling a flame torch, an axe and a knife on the shoulders of two spectators, he had attracted a crowd of more than 150 from all ages and nationalities. I hope he went home with a fat wallet that night, because it was one of the best street shows I have ever seen!

Street performance by Derek Derek

The Hans Christian Andersen Museum, which I visited next, was a big disappointment. There were very few artifacts, the exhibits reminded me of a cheap theme park, and the text that accompanied them was far from well written (though I did appreciate that there was German text, because after almost six weeks in Germany I instinctively look for the language once I step into a museum). Though I learned something from reading his fairy tales without Disney adulteration, and liked the computer at which one could see Andersen’s works in e-Book form in 127 languages, this museum definitely did not do justice to the great author. But then, I should have known better to trust a museum that shares its cashier and information desk with Ripley’s Believe it or Not Odditorium…

Anyway, the last part of my evening was a walk along the harbour. The Copenhagen Opera House looked stunning as its windows glittered bronze from the last rays from the setting sun, the winter palace of the Queen was elegant but not overly imposing, and the star-shaped Churchillparken was pleasant. Den lille havfrue (the little mermaid statue), however, was much less impressive than what I would expect from the symbol of the Danish capital. She was so small that I almost walked by without seeing it, and if she were placed alongside the works of renowned sculptors such as Auguste Rodin, I doubt that she would have merited much attention. But then, I think it’s Andersen’s story of the little mermaid that gives the statue its importance.

Left: Copenhagen Opera House; Right: Den lille havfrue by Edvard Eriksen

Day 2 (Zoologisk Have, Carlsberg Visitor Centre, Statens Museum for Kunst and Kongens Have) coming up!