Oh Canada…

Where do we go from here?

As with all long-term relationships, we seem to be having our ups and downs at the moment. Don’t get me wrong, I still think we can sort them out, but I just wanted you to know I’m concerned. Maybe you’re going through a midlife crisis or something.

We just don’t seem to be talking about the same things anymore. Sometimes I wonder: Could it be we’re growing apart? I hope not.

I’ve been very supportive of you over the years. Never has a moment slipped by when I haven’t taken the opportunity to talk about your accomplishments or achievements to anyone who would listen.  I defend you when people say you’re boring. I tell them you just see things differently, you’re a bit cautious, that’s all.You’d prefer to sit back and think about things a bit, and when you’ve made your decision it’s usually the right one for all the right reasons.

I know we’ve had our share of issues in the past. I know I need to take my share of the blame, and I do.  It’s just that we’ve been able to work through some of our issues and move on. Now I’m not so sure.

I think we still want the same things. I’ve heard other people commenting on your behaviour as well. People are starting to talk. I just wanted to let you know we’re all a bit concerned.

It’s great you’re exploring new ways to express yourself. I, for one, never want to stop you from growing, and I know you feel the same way about me. I guess that’s why I’m a bit shocked with the choices you’ve been making.

But today is a time to celebrate you. We’ve certainly had our share of great times together.

Happy Birthday, Canada.

Creative Focus

I expected to find cobblestone-paved streets, renaissance- inspired buildings and castles, and daunting majestic statues holding court in public squares and markets. I found all that and so much more in Malmö. Behind every corner I turned, and every crooked little street I followed, were the rhythms of daily life with the architectural reminders of a long and rich history as the backdrop.

Now imagine the juxtaposition of Calatrava’s deconstructionist Turning Torso. Twisting 90 degrees on its own axis, 190 metres high, and nine cubes stacked one on top of each other, looking every bit like a  a geometric exclamation point  punctuating itself against  the blue skies of Øresund Strait.  

I was quickly fixated on this structure.  I needed to linger, study its lines, contemplate its engineering. From every angle it seemed to defy anything I knew about the law of physics. When you’re on the ground looking up at the edifice, it truly does not look like it should be standing. The sweeps and angles it takes seem too drastic for one building.

Designed by famed Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, the Turning Torso is another example of his work laden with flowing, sweeping curves, a swirling design with bending and curved silhouettes, clearly displaying his training as both sculptor and civil engineer.

 

I spent the better part of this one afternoon enjoying the waterfront of Malmö taking photos. I’ve been stretching myself beyond the art form I am most comfortable with: writing. Learning how to train my eye to see things differently, to capture what is around me through the lens of my camera. I feel awkward and uncoordinated in this new medium, but it stimulates my brain and creativity in other ways. There is also this incredible sense of possibility that comes from learning something new and expanding beyond my known capabilities.  

 The longer I spent examining this structure, figuring out the vantage points to capture what I was seeing (shots from the waterfront or children’s park across the street),  my appreciation of its richness and complexity grew. As I reflected on the sheer hard work, dedication and creative focus that had been condensed into this singular act of creation, I could only be humbled.

Fixed-link Between Denmark and Sweden

Flight plans no longer in jeopardy by the rolling strikes of British Airways staff (at least at this end), and no hint of ash in the sky, I landed in Kastrup Airport, Denmark, the major airport for the Øresund Region of Copenhagen and Malmö, Sweden.  Another 35 minute train ride across the Øresundsbron – spanning 490m across the Øresund Strait linking the Baltic Sea to the North Sea – and I was in Malmö, Sweden.  

(I’d like to thank contacts from the Swedish Tourism Office who supplied this photo. I knew there was no way I’d be able to find a way to get a similar shot)

Catching the train from Kastrup was so easy to do. Ticket counters are situated just beyond passport control, and escalators taking you down to a waiting platform are well signposted. Within minutes, just long enough to revel in the fact I was in Denmark, the train arrived whisking passengers onto Malmö.

The first thing I noticed as the train slowed to a stop were the big, bold bicycle  images on each of the doors. I knew the region’s reputation for being bicycle-friendly, but this was clearly a sign that I had entered a cycling utopia. As I would soon witness for myself, for every one person in a private car, there were probably 50 on bicycle.

 

 It was sunny when I arrived, so the chance to catch a glimpse of the large offshore windfarm was in my favour. I did. And it was merely a glimpse, thanks to the commitment of highspeed trains as part of the public transportation infrastructure.

Structurally impressive and aesthetically pleasing, the Øresundsbron stands as an engineering masterpiece, connecting hundreds of years of common history and language, and transforming this area of southern Sweden and eastern Denmark into a significant transnational economic region since it opened in 2000.

I knew Denmark and Sweden were quite similar in many ways. Both have similar historical paths to their modern political and social structures. Both are welfare-states, both have well-developed democratic structures, both are rooted in old monarchies, and both are geographically small with a strong sense of social equality and just distribution. Yet, I also knew that despite these similarities, overcoming the challenges of nationalistic sentiments on both sides of the bridge has proven much more difficult. In particular, each country’s divergent interpretations of diversity and multiculturalism. Danish public policy has traditionally focussed on homogeneity and Sweden’s emphasis has been multiculturalism.

Crossing the Øresundsbron I couldn’t help think how these two countries have been enemies, trading partners, and at times, even part of the same country, and now, for better or worse, firmly attached by this fixed-link.