Yesterday my Mom and I took a trip out to Louisiana, not the state but the modern art gallery located just up the coast north of Copenhagen. It had been highly recommended both by the guide books and by my friend Thomas, who had just stopped there with his girlfriend while on a holiday sailing back and forth between the Danish and Swedish coasts. The last couple days the weather had been somewhat erratic, so we figured it was the perfect day for a short train ride out to an art gallery.
The trip did not disappoint. It was really nice to get out of the city for a little bit and get even just the slightest glimpse of life outside the city. One thing that I noticed right off the bat was that there are bike lanes all over Denmark, not just in the central city, which makes the bicycle the preferred method of transportation throughout the country. Once we arrived at Humlebæk station, it was a short 10 minute walk down the road to Louisiana. The museum is located on a beautiful set of grounds that look out onto the Øresund, the narrow body of water separating Denmark from Sweden.
My Mom and I were starving by the time we made it to the museum. Thomas had mentioned that there was a very nice buffet lunch in the cafe, so we headed straight for the food first. Again, it did not disappoint. We had a beautiful spread of cured salmon, pickled herring, prosciutto with herbed potatoes, "chicken rissole" as it was labeled, and a salad of tomato, cucumber and watermelon with basil, which also turned out to be delicious. It proved to be exactly what we needed - a wonderful meal spent while looking out over the watery landscape across to Sweden.
Once we finished eating, we made our way through the exhibits. There are two exhibits of note going on right now. The first that we saw was by the French photographer/journalist/anthropologist Sophie Calle. Several of her installments were thought provoking. For one, she asked random residents of the Bronx to take her to their favorite local places and explain why. She then photographed the subjects at these places. For another, she visited East Germany to photograph spaces that had once hosted objects related to the Communist regime and had either been removed, toppled or defaced. She then sought out images of the objects that had once filled those spaces and the stories of Berliners recounting their experiences with those objects. The last, and most controversial, of the installments was inspired by a letter the artist had received from a lover in which he ends their relationship. She made copies of the letter available for each museum-goer, with the author's name replaced by an "X". She then shared the letter with more than 100 women of varying ages, professions and backgrounds, asking each of them to interpret what it meant. The artist photographed these women, often with their faces hidden, and the women's responses were often presented in artistic manner. For instance, a professional proofreader examined the letter for how often the author used specific verb tenses and marked each tense with a different color. The installation included a color diagram of how often and where the author used each particular tense. A composer translated the letter into rhythmic notation and phrasing. Overall, I found it to be fascinating. My Mother was not quite as taken to it. She thought it raised important issues regarding the ethics of using private correspondence for very public art and we debated its merits for the majority of our train ride back to Copenhagen, which if you ask me is what the artist probably intended from the very beginning. The whole thing took me back to my intro class in hermeneutics last fall. Just goes to show that you can take the boy out of divinity school...
The other remarkable exhibit was one devoted to the intersection of the work of Edvard Munch and Andy Warhol. The two make for remarkably strange bedfellows, as it were, but it turns out their work did intersect. Munch very much got into print making, which Warhol then took up to make his own version of Munch's prints, including Munch's most famous work, "The Scream." The exhibit first showed Munch's prints, followed by Warhol's interpretation of those prints, then followed by examples of Warhol's work after the Munch prints, which included interpretations of Mao Tze Tung, Marilyn Monroe, Jackie Kennedy and a matchbook with the Coca Cola logo on it. Again, I absolutely loved the exhibit and found it completely innovative. It was made all the more interesting by the fact that we had visited the national gallery of Norway earlier on in the trip and had seen the original "Scream" and several other of Munch's works featured at Louisiana. As Americans traveling through Scandinavia, it made for an exciting experience to see an exhibit dedicated to an American artist's engagement with the work of a Scandinavian predecessor.
So, I guess you could say that a good (and thoughtful) time was had by all. The weather has improved today and we're about to emark on our penultimate day in Scandinavia before we head back to the States on Saturday. On the agenda for the day is smørrebrød at Ida Davidsen's, a trip to the Danish National Gallery and then off to explore the Nørrebro neighborhood. More to come on that later on!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Why I Love Copenhagen and Hate Spain
Over the last several days, I've come to love Copenhagen and am increasingly glad that we decided to spend a full week here at the end of the trip. The weather has just been spectacular, which has made it all the easier to get out and appreciate the city's spectacular waterfront. I've walked all along the canals and harborfront, taken a canal cruise boat and admired the magnificent architecture from the waterways, and even been out in a kayak with my good friend and generous host Thomas Emil Jensen to get a more intimate experience of the Copenhagen waterways. It really is an amazing place. An interview with a local featured in my guidebook emphasized that to appreciate Copenhagen, one needs to spend as much time along the waterfront as possible, and I'd have to say that I agree.
One of our favorite ways to spend time in Copenhagen thus far is to get out and watch the World Cup matches at an outdoor venue right on the harbor, sponsored by the national sports television network. The venue, situated at a place called Ofelia Beach, is located adjacent to the national theater and directly across the water from the practically brand new Opera House, which is at least as beautiful (if not more), as its counterpart in Oslo. We've spent the last two nights out at Ofelia Beach, watching the evening (European time) matches between Brazil and Chile and then Spain and Portugal last night. The crowds have been fantastic and energetic and it's provided some of the best people watching opportunities of our trip thus far. It was especially packed last night for a highly anticipated match between Spain and Portugal, which was something of an Iberian grudge match.
Which brings me to the second half of the title for this particular post. Last night was the second time we have watched Spain play during this World Cup and both times I have been left with the distinct impression that this is a team almost entirely comprised of conniving pretty boys who would curl up in the fetal position if they were ever presented with a truly physical challenge. In the first game that we watched in Oslo Spain was playing Chile in a group play match. One player, Ramos, twice drew my attention for his flagrant histrionics and overall dishonesty. The first instance involved a play where he actually kicked the goalkeeper in the mouth and then acted as if he had been viciously fouled. In the second instance he took a dive, once again acting as if someone had ripped his achilles tendon from the bone when no one had been within a foot of him.
Last night's match featured more of the same from Ramos and the majority of his compatriots. The last straw, for me, came in the closing minutes of the match. Portugal was down 1-0 and appeared to be knocking at the door. Seemingly out of nowhere, the referee sent a Portuguese defender off with a red card, leaving them down a man for the final three minutes. The replay shown on television showed that the play was a total dive and there was no contact made between the two players whatsoever.
In these last two games the Spanish team has demonstrated the worst of what I have come to know about the game of soccer over the years - namely that the best teams in the world succeed not on talent alone but by their ability and willingness to be blatantly dishonest on the field of play. This is not to say that there isn't regular dishonesty in sports. There is near universal agreement that doping and the throwing of games is wrong. In the sport of golf, it is a cultural norm to call penalties on one's self and players who fail to do so are generally shunned. There is always an interesting debate to be had about whether one has the obligation to notify a referee if one has benefited from a bad call and knows it. I've personally debated that with friends, coaches and teammates for most of my sporting life.
But it seems to me that a distinction needs to be made between benefiting from bad calls that are inadvertent and those that are drawn by premeditated deceit on the part of the player. Basketball has a long history of players who were considered "floppers," by essentially acting as if they had drawn contact when there was none. There's no doubt that it works from time to time, but again, there is a prevailing cultural norm that goes against such behavior and rarely to players consistently and substantially benefit from flopping. The same is not true in soccer. It seems that those teams that are the best actors, and who do so consistently, are those who are the most consistently successful on the world stage. This should be an embarrassment to the game and its organizers. Lip service is paid to the efforts of soccer's international governing body to clamp down on flopping, but it seems obvious that it's been completely ineffectual.
Teams like Spain are the reason why I can't take soccer seriously as a sport and why I will continue to pay attention only once every four years. They give credence to those who assert that it shouldn't even be considered a sport. And that's all I have to say about that.
One of our favorite ways to spend time in Copenhagen thus far is to get out and watch the World Cup matches at an outdoor venue right on the harbor, sponsored by the national sports television network. The venue, situated at a place called Ofelia Beach, is located adjacent to the national theater and directly across the water from the practically brand new Opera House, which is at least as beautiful (if not more), as its counterpart in Oslo. We've spent the last two nights out at Ofelia Beach, watching the evening (European time) matches between Brazil and Chile and then Spain and Portugal last night. The crowds have been fantastic and energetic and it's provided some of the best people watching opportunities of our trip thus far. It was especially packed last night for a highly anticipated match between Spain and Portugal, which was something of an Iberian grudge match.
Which brings me to the second half of the title for this particular post. Last night was the second time we have watched Spain play during this World Cup and both times I have been left with the distinct impression that this is a team almost entirely comprised of conniving pretty boys who would curl up in the fetal position if they were ever presented with a truly physical challenge. In the first game that we watched in Oslo Spain was playing Chile in a group play match. One player, Ramos, twice drew my attention for his flagrant histrionics and overall dishonesty. The first instance involved a play where he actually kicked the goalkeeper in the mouth and then acted as if he had been viciously fouled. In the second instance he took a dive, once again acting as if someone had ripped his achilles tendon from the bone when no one had been within a foot of him.
Last night's match featured more of the same from Ramos and the majority of his compatriots. The last straw, for me, came in the closing minutes of the match. Portugal was down 1-0 and appeared to be knocking at the door. Seemingly out of nowhere, the referee sent a Portuguese defender off with a red card, leaving them down a man for the final three minutes. The replay shown on television showed that the play was a total dive and there was no contact made between the two players whatsoever.
In these last two games the Spanish team has demonstrated the worst of what I have come to know about the game of soccer over the years - namely that the best teams in the world succeed not on talent alone but by their ability and willingness to be blatantly dishonest on the field of play. This is not to say that there isn't regular dishonesty in sports. There is near universal agreement that doping and the throwing of games is wrong. In the sport of golf, it is a cultural norm to call penalties on one's self and players who fail to do so are generally shunned. There is always an interesting debate to be had about whether one has the obligation to notify a referee if one has benefited from a bad call and knows it. I've personally debated that with friends, coaches and teammates for most of my sporting life.
But it seems to me that a distinction needs to be made between benefiting from bad calls that are inadvertent and those that are drawn by premeditated deceit on the part of the player. Basketball has a long history of players who were considered "floppers," by essentially acting as if they had drawn contact when there was none. There's no doubt that it works from time to time, but again, there is a prevailing cultural norm that goes against such behavior and rarely to players consistently and substantially benefit from flopping. The same is not true in soccer. It seems that those teams that are the best actors, and who do so consistently, are those who are the most consistently successful on the world stage. This should be an embarrassment to the game and its organizers. Lip service is paid to the efforts of soccer's international governing body to clamp down on flopping, but it seems obvious that it's been completely ineffectual.
Teams like Spain are the reason why I can't take soccer seriously as a sport and why I will continue to pay attention only once every four years. They give credence to those who assert that it shouldn't even be considered a sport. And that's all I have to say about that.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Update: Scandinavian Trends
Here are few updates on trends I've observed over the last week or so:
- Smoking: A surprising number of Scandinavians smoke. I find it especially surprising given the advanced state of socialized medicine in all these countries and the generally progressive and aggressive proactive social policy programs that seem to be the norm. I was in a bar over the weekend to watch a World Cup match and I think it was the first time that I saw people smoking inside a bar in I don't know how long.
- American football: It took me a while to pick up on this one, but I've seen people in all three countries we've visited attempting to toss a football around. For the most part they've failed miserably, but you have to give them credit for trying, especially since most Americans can't throw a decent spiral themselves.
Reprise of the Party Trucks
There's one important detail I purposefully left out of the above blog post dealing with our arrival back in Copenhagen. Our local travel itinerary for getting back to Thomas' place involved catching a bus from Copenhagen Central Station back to Christianshavn (which is about a 10 minute ride max). As we stood waiting at the bus stop we heard the faint sound of screaming in the distance that drew nearer and nearer. People all around us starting looking back and forth, waiting to see where the noise was coming from. Sure enough, a flatbed truck drove by with a group of screaming teenagers riding in the back. Our old nemesis, the graduation truck had returned!
Over the course of the last several days, we've probably seen about a dozen or so of the party trucks. It's mainly the same deal, except that there's no music blasting. It's an interesting distinction, given the fact that Copenhagen is regarded as a party destination throughout Scandinavia on account of its lax alcohol laws (open containers are legal and alcohol can be bought in just about any standard grocery or convenience store as opposed to state monopoly stores in Sweden).
Another important characteristic of the graduate partiers that I failed to mention before is that they all where these hats that are basically the faux ship captain's hats, as per Gilligan's Island or the Captain & Tenille, not to date myself too much. The band of the hats in Sweden were navy blue and the ones here in Denmark are red with narrower brims.
In any event, it seems that we won't be able to escape the graduation season afterall. Thankfully, I seem to have gotten over most of my crotchetiness and am rolling with it.
Over the course of the last several days, we've probably seen about a dozen or so of the party trucks. It's mainly the same deal, except that there's no music blasting. It's an interesting distinction, given the fact that Copenhagen is regarded as a party destination throughout Scandinavia on account of its lax alcohol laws (open containers are legal and alcohol can be bought in just about any standard grocery or convenience store as opposed to state monopoly stores in Sweden).
Another important characteristic of the graduate partiers that I failed to mention before is that they all where these hats that are basically the faux ship captain's hats, as per Gilligan's Island or the Captain & Tenille, not to date myself too much. The band of the hats in Sweden were navy blue and the ones here in Denmark are red with narrower brims.
In any event, it seems that we won't be able to escape the graduation season afterall. Thankfully, I seem to have gotten over most of my crotchetiness and am rolling with it.
Back to the Beginning
The train ride from Gothenberg back to Copenhagen last Friday afternoon proved to be something of a cathartic experience. It meant that our Scandinavian adventure had officially come full circle and we were arriving back where we had started. For a portion of the trip, we weren't exactly sure about how we felt about spending a week in Copenhagen before returning home. We spent three days or so in town at the beginning of the trip, and while we really enjoyed spending time with my friend Thomas and his girlfriend Johanne, we didn't immediately take to Copenhagen the way that we did to Stockholm. For most of the time that we were in Norway we discussed various options for possibly catching a cheap flight down to Berlin or elsewhere on the continent. However, by the time we finished in Gothenberg, it was pretty clear to both of us that we were ready to be off the road. We went so far as to consider heading back to the States early to get a head start on the packing and moving process that awaits me back in Boston.
I'm happy to report that as we rode on the train down from Gothenberg we realized that this last week in Copenhagen would be an absolute blessing. The weather was gorgeous for the ride down and as the train wound into the city limits we began to see the green oxidized spires that make up the Copenhagen skyline. I have to say that I experienced something of a sense of relief at seeing them. It meant that we were off the road and we had a week in a beautiful city that we hadn't really explored and still had time left to share with Thomas and my friends Faith and Sandy who were flying in from London to spend the weekend with us. Moreover, we knew that it would be a week spent in one place, a beautiful place, in Thomas' wonderful apartment in the Christianshavn neighborhood, which is idyllic even on days with less than perfect weather. This was going to be the relaxing, vacation-esque part of the trip that we hadn't experienced since we had arrived and so desperately needed.
By the time we made it to Thomas' place and dropped all our luggage in the room we are staying in, there was both a literal and a figurative weight that was lifted from our shoulders and we exchanged knowing smiles celebrating that fact. This is not to say that the last three weeks of travel haven't been amazing and that we haven't enjoyed it. I think anyone that's traveled and been on the road for two weeks or more will agree that there's a certain exhaustion that sets in from schlepping stuff on trains, buses, boats, from one city to the next. We saw and experienced some amazing things, some of which I've been able to catalog here and others that are yet to come in both words and pictures. This is going to be an amazing week and we're so glad to be here.
Stay tuned to hear about what comes up during our chilled-out week in Copenhagen!
I'm happy to report that as we rode on the train down from Gothenberg we realized that this last week in Copenhagen would be an absolute blessing. The weather was gorgeous for the ride down and as the train wound into the city limits we began to see the green oxidized spires that make up the Copenhagen skyline. I have to say that I experienced something of a sense of relief at seeing them. It meant that we were off the road and we had a week in a beautiful city that we hadn't really explored and still had time left to share with Thomas and my friends Faith and Sandy who were flying in from London to spend the weekend with us. Moreover, we knew that it would be a week spent in one place, a beautiful place, in Thomas' wonderful apartment in the Christianshavn neighborhood, which is idyllic even on days with less than perfect weather. This was going to be the relaxing, vacation-esque part of the trip that we hadn't experienced since we had arrived and so desperately needed.
By the time we made it to Thomas' place and dropped all our luggage in the room we are staying in, there was both a literal and a figurative weight that was lifted from our shoulders and we exchanged knowing smiles celebrating that fact. This is not to say that the last three weeks of travel haven't been amazing and that we haven't enjoyed it. I think anyone that's traveled and been on the road for two weeks or more will agree that there's a certain exhaustion that sets in from schlepping stuff on trains, buses, boats, from one city to the next. We saw and experienced some amazing things, some of which I've been able to catalog here and others that are yet to come in both words and pictures. This is going to be an amazing week and we're so glad to be here.
Stay tuned to hear about what comes up during our chilled-out week in Copenhagen!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Second Cities
We've had a great time here in Gothenberg the last couple days. When I was doing my homework planning the trip, I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I had a feeling that this would a city that we would enjoy and that's certainly proved to be the case. Like my description of Oslo, it's not really a city that will blow you away. Gothenberg is decidedly the least geographically interesting place we've been to on this trip. The only water present is a tiny little canal that divides the city into 2-3 different sections. There aren't any individual buildings that will blow you away. There are a couple little neighborhoods that are incredibly quaint and there are several buildings that are architecturally intereresting but nothing really overwhelming.
What there is here is a sense of the good life. People seem to be happy. There are great cafes, good food in general, great style in general. There's a friendly feeling here that we just haven't really encountered anywhere else on the trip thus far. This got me thinking about "second cities," those cities that are either statistically the 2nd biggest in a particular country, or those that occupy something of an underdog status, culturally speaking. I've always loved "second cities" and have always found a certain comfort and easiness about them that you don't necessarily find in the glamor destinations. Chicago, the city that perhaps coined the term 2nd city, comes to mind. It's always been one of my favorite cities to visit, precisely because there's a kind of accessibility to it that you don't find in New York or LA. The city makes it easy to get around and the people generally make it easy for you to enjoy sharing their home with them. Melbourne is another second city that is really easy to fall in love with. It doesn't get nearly the attention that Sydney does. It doesn't have a spectacular harbor or architechtural marvels like the Opera House and the Harbor Bridge, or the beaches for that matter. What it does have is a great art and music scene, incredible food, a cosmopolitan feel and for my money it also happens to be one of the best sports towns in the world.
Gothenberg is another delightful second city. The guidebook tells me that it's the second largest city in Sweden and that it's produced a number of notable Swedish musicians, artists and design labels. After spending a few days here, that hardly surprises me. This place may not make the cover of many guidebooks or the travel section of the NY Times, but it's definitely a place where one could easily spend a week or so during the summer just getting caught up in the quality of life.
What there is here is a sense of the good life. People seem to be happy. There are great cafes, good food in general, great style in general. There's a friendly feeling here that we just haven't really encountered anywhere else on the trip thus far. This got me thinking about "second cities," those cities that are either statistically the 2nd biggest in a particular country, or those that occupy something of an underdog status, culturally speaking. I've always loved "second cities" and have always found a certain comfort and easiness about them that you don't necessarily find in the glamor destinations. Chicago, the city that perhaps coined the term 2nd city, comes to mind. It's always been one of my favorite cities to visit, precisely because there's a kind of accessibility to it that you don't find in New York or LA. The city makes it easy to get around and the people generally make it easy for you to enjoy sharing their home with them. Melbourne is another second city that is really easy to fall in love with. It doesn't get nearly the attention that Sydney does. It doesn't have a spectacular harbor or architechtural marvels like the Opera House and the Harbor Bridge, or the beaches for that matter. What it does have is a great art and music scene, incredible food, a cosmopolitan feel and for my money it also happens to be one of the best sports towns in the world.
Gothenberg is another delightful second city. The guidebook tells me that it's the second largest city in Sweden and that it's produced a number of notable Swedish musicians, artists and design labels. After spending a few days here, that hardly surprises me. This place may not make the cover of many guidebooks or the travel section of the NY Times, but it's definitely a place where one could easily spend a week or so during the summer just getting caught up in the quality of life.
Update: Missed Opportunities
Earlier on I posted a list of unique experiences, activities, events and happenings that we had narrowly missed on our trip, including the big Swedish royal wedding. Well, now there's another experience to add to the list: Midsummer Eve/Day. It's apparently a huge deal here in Sweden and for the last couple days it seems as if all of Gothenberg has been out and about getting their festivities put together to share with family and friends. The holiday technically celebrates the longest day of the year, but is observed on the Friday and Saturday after the solstice. This morning I watched a team of guys erect the Maypole in the huge public park that's just a couple blocks away from our hostel.
I have to admit that I'm disappointed that we're going to miss this holiday. It seems to be something of a combination of the 4th of July and Thanksgiving, what with the long summer day, BBQs, and time spent with family and friends, which pretty much forms up my top criteria for holidays - especially if you throw good food into the picture.
The good news is that we're headed back to Copenhagen tomorrow, which is the last stop on our trip. That means that our eurail passes will be complete and the schlepping of luggage, etc., will essentially also be over. I'm looking forward to a week or so of relatively chilled out time in a beautiful city. We'll just have to see where the adventure takes us once we get there!
I have to admit that I'm disappointed that we're going to miss this holiday. It seems to be something of a combination of the 4th of July and Thanksgiving, what with the long summer day, BBQs, and time spent with family and friends, which pretty much forms up my top criteria for holidays - especially if you throw good food into the picture.
The good news is that we're headed back to Copenhagen tomorrow, which is the last stop on our trip. That means that our eurail passes will be complete and the schlepping of luggage, etc., will essentially also be over. I'm looking forward to a week or so of relatively chilled out time in a beautiful city. We'll just have to see where the adventure takes us once we get there!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)