Six Months in Copenhagen

The Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, near Copenhagen, is currently showing an exhibit inspired by the works and philosophy of a structural engineer named Cecil Balmond. He works for one of the largest structural consulting companies in the world. Balmond's unique and forward thinking approach to building design has drawn collaboration with some of the most creative modern architects. In many of his projects, it is difficult to discern where the architectural concepts stop and the structural mind takes over.

Upon completion, the CCTV tower in Beijing will be his most recognizable landmark. The building might be best described as a pair of pants in the sitting position. The structure works because the two legs lean against each other. It's a wild design; one that I'm sure took hundreds of hours of computer simulations to get just right. Unfortunately, the exhibit glosses over the considerable technological challenges presented by the design.

Instead, it begins by deconstructing Balmond's ideas to the basics of numbers and geometry. You are first introduced to the symbolism inherent in the first nine digits. For example, in western culture, the number five evokes association with mysticism, as represented by the five pointed pentagram. From numbers, you graduate to geometry and the so-called golden rectangle. This rectangle is proportioned so that the long side is equal to 1.617 times the short side. You can apply the golden rectangle with some imagination to classical art like Michelangelo's David, the Cathedral of Notre Dame and even modern skyscrapers.

After that, the concepts become a lot more theoretical but still do not address the structural questions invoked by the sketches and models. The largest model was a section of tensioned cable netting - a scale representation of a much larger structural art project. The exhibit never draws the line between Balmond's work and his collaborating architects. This treatment serves to emphasize how engineering can inform creative design.

Recently, my wife and I participated in a much hyped go-cart grand prix sponsored by my company. The race matched skill against nerve, and consistency against reckless abandon. Seventeen teams of three drivers competed in the two hour grand prix event. The rules were simple: each driver would take at least two separate turns driving and the first place team, after two hours had expired, would take home the champions' trophy.

As usual, the Danes took this pseudo-sport seriously. The track was over 3/4 mile long and presented a difficult challenge with tight corners and narrow straight-aways. We were even required to wear a special jumpsuit, driving gloves, racing helmet and a head cover which bore a striking resemblance to a split pair of briefs.

Prior to the race, the "organizing body" had organized the drivers into fair and balanced teams, or so they said. My wife, Mary Ann, and I were placed on separate teams. I was teamed with two veterans of the previous grand prix. Mary Ann anchored a team consisting of one go-kart junkie and a gymnast.

The race was on. In just the first lap, Mary Ann's team jumped quickly from the last starting position all the way up to second place. It was an early sign of things to come. Meanwhile, my teammates maintained position in the middle of the pack. After 20 minutes most teams made their first driver change. As the teams signaled their drivers into the pit area, the rain began to fall, slowly at first, and then a steady downpour. Track conditions worsened quickly, and many drivers began loosing control on the tighter turns. Several collisions were narrowly avoided, but other teams saw their hopes dashed when they found their cars disabled on the grassy embankments.

Mary Ann put in respectable and consistent times while navigating the ice-slick surface. On the other hand, I was determined to make up time. Within two laps, I was left helplessly pinned against the wall after an uncontrollable spin-out. The track conditions continued to worsen, but the race went on. Coming into the #4 hairpin turn too low, I got totally soaked driving through a giant puddle created by the banked turn. While Mary Ann's consistency had allowed her team to maintain a comfortable position in 2nd place, all of my hyper aggressive driving only resulted in 8th place.

Most drivers changed into waterproof jumpsuits before taking their final turn behind the wheel. In the corner, Mary Ann and her teammates were discussing secret team strategy. Armed with new information, Mary Ann bettered her times by almost 10 seconds a lap. I began my final turn with an even more aggressive policy, hoping to move up from 8th place. Repeatedly, I passed the #8 and #30 cars only to lose position by spinning out on an unfortunately slick corner or evading another out-of-control driver. Despite jumping corners, cutting off other drivers, and growing comfortable driving over anything paved or not, I was unable to move up in position. Spectators later wondered why my car was making such an awful noise each time it passed by.

Finally finishing the race, I was greeted by a coy Mary Ann. Her team had won the Grand Prix! They managed to finish more than a minute ahead of the second place team and were rewarded with a huge trophy. Regardless of the results, everyone had a great time.

I guess there is a "tortoise and hare" lesson to be learned from this event. I'm not naturally a patient person, and the temptation to rush into things has occasionally caused setbacks in my career. Civil engineering, as a profession, tends to reward consistency. That's probably a good thing considering the public importance of our designs. However, my experiences have shown that staying the course can really pay off, and the work can be a lot of fun.

Why post an entry about music in an engineering blog? Music and engineering share an interesting mathematical connection. Just as math provides the language for discussing the technical merits of an engineering project, it also defines the structure of the musical spectrum. Around 3,000 years ago, Pythagoras was spending as much time exploring music as he was deriving equations for triangles. He is credited as the first to construct a musical scale based on proportional intervals. In fact, he theorized that the whole universe was based on the sum of these numbers. His Do - Re - Mi has changed very little to the present day and permits musicians around the world to construct an unlimited variety of compositions.

As with most European nations, the people of Denmark have a real affinity for music. Their brand new $440 million opera house demonstrates their fascination. Copenhagen also holds an international jazz festival each year. We missed most of the headline performances but caught a curiously titled "Revival of Avant-garde Russian Jazz." It was entertaining to say the least - think of a mixture of Miles Davis and vaudevillian accompaniment. I was impressed with the trumpet player who easily switched styles from airy jazz to ragtime swing.

Popular music in Denmark sounds very similar to the styles we hear in the states, and fans flock to see their favorite acts live. Encouraged by a friend, we attended the highly promoted Grøn Koncert (Green Concert). There were two stages but no seating - a typical outdoor concert. The Danes, however, treated it more like an opportunity to have a picnic. Entire families came, bringing along their babies in strollers. It was a much more age diverse crowd that you would ever see at home for an event like this.

The music styles varied greatly. The first band sounded like a mix of George Michael and Kenny Loggins - with a somewhat more modern twist. That performance was juxtaposed with an ongoing series of rap battles. There was one American act in the lineup, but we had never heard of her. The final performance was led by a guy from Mick Jagger's era - too bad the tunes didn't match the look.  The crowd was definitely into it; four generations were singing and dancing along together. It started to rain during their set, and we were treated to two amazing rainbows.

A few weeks later, we had the chance to see more live music in Copenhagen's downtown theme park, called Tivoli. The park has a few roller coasters and some midway games, but the frequent live shows are the main attraction. Even if no headliners are playing, you can always hear the Tivoli Big Band. They play standards like "In the Mood", "Sing, Sing, Sing", and everyone's favorite "The Tivoli Shuffle." The brass section is great, and they always try to create a party atmosphere - sometimes setting off fireworks on stage and mercilessly throwing confetti at the soloists.

The biggest concert of the year was Nephew. We had seen their theatric stage performance at the Grøn Koncert and couldn't wait to hear more. Their style of music is a mix of 80s electronica and Modest Mouse. The lead singer even wears a keyboard slung over his shoulder. The entire band wears jumpsuits and acts out a quasi futuristic theme. It all culminates with a "light saber" duel between the lead singer and Darth Vader. Fittingly, the finale is accompanied by their hit tune, "I wanna be Darth Vader."

After the description of that musical experience, my introduction may seem a bit of a stretch. Consider this then, some rock stars known for far out sounds also have a deep understanding of math and physics. The guitarist for Queen, who wrote "We Will Rock You" and "We are the Champions," has a Phd. in astrophysics. Another musician, Tom Scholtz, worked as a senior product design engineer for Polaroid before inventing his own distortion pedal and instantly appearing on the music scene with a rock band called Boston. So don't give up your dream of becoming a rock star; just consider engineering as a way of sharpening your understanding of the underlying language of the universe.

The Danes are avid sports fans. Soccer, or fodbold, is naturally at the top of the list. However, the crowded sports landscape is extremely diverse, including auto racing, track & field, rugby, basketball, handball and many more. You are likely to find any one of these sports broadcast in prime time. Even women's sports are highly attended and closely followed. Since my adopted company is working on Parken, the national fodbold arena, I have been able to get free tickets to professional fodbold and handbold games.

To enter Parken, you need to look for a specific gate that takes you right up to your section. All of these direct entrances mean that almost the entire perimeter of the park is taken up with stairwells. At each corner of the stadium, there is a glass enclosed atrium. Rows of stands run parallel to each side of the field, typically with a lower and upper deck. A trussed roof covers the grandstands, and a retractable roof can extend over the field. However, closing the roof requires installing removable columns that are necessary to support the additional weight of the closed roof.

On the day we attended, FC København looked like a much better team. Throughout the first half, they kept steady pressure on the opposition. Shots were clanked off both posts and the crossbar before they finally scored on a defensive breakdown. The away team seemed to make some adjustments during halftime and came out much stronger. However, a few great stops by our goalie sealed the 1-0 victory.

Unlike American athletics, there was very little commercialization. No Bell Tire halftime show or Oscar Meier Wiener races. There wasn't any piped in music or cheerleaders either. That was actually quite refreshing, but it didn't fulfill my American expectations for a professional event.

A little disappointed with my fodbold experience, I had pretty low expectations for a professional women's handbold match. When I arrived, hundreds of people were buzzing about outside an arena smaller than my high school gym. Despite a modest setting, the fans really got into it. Just like in soccer, there was a section of super fans cheering constantly. The players were announced with lights dimmed, spotlights spinning, and music blaring. Immediately, I was swept into the excitement myself.

Handball is an odd mixture of sports. It's played on a wood floor about the size of a basketball court. And although you must dribble to move with the ball, game-play is more like water polo. Each team consists of 6 people plus a goalie. There are two arcs around each goal. From what I observed, the outer arc is basically a defensive line in the sand, beyond which the defenders can legally push, grab, shove, or otherwise abuse an entering offensive player. The inner arc is almost like a free-throw line in that you must leave from behind the line for a score to count. This makes for some exciting leaping, twisting, and dives to deliver a scoring toss.

The opposing team, Fredrickshavn, opened strong and got some great stops by their goalie. At half time, the score was 11-15 and after that, the home team players seemed re-energized. They ran some spectacular plays off the fast break. One girl was clothes-lined by the defense, but still managed to score. On another play she sprinted the length of the court received a long pass on a diving catch, did a 180 degree roll in the air and slammed the ball home for the score. Yes, and the foul! This sealed the 27-21 victory for FC København.

The excitement at the handbold match is symbolic of the Dane's enthusiasm for sport. It doesn't need to be a big commercial team for them to get excited. I also think that their interest in less mainstream sports is an attempt to find one that they can compete in on the world stage. Whatever their reasons for playing, an emphasis on camaraderie makes every match a victory for the athletes and their fans.

I find myself trying a lot of things here in Denmark that I wouldn't ordinarily do. Leif Hansen sponsors at least one after work activity every month. These have included a 5k run and an orienteering race. I've never been one to run just for the fun of it, but I excitedly signed up for both events.

The 5k run turned out to be a huge event. Over the course of three nights almost 100,000 people were expected to participate - considering the population of Copenhagen (only 500,000 municipal), that's huge. Companies reserved tent space and barbequed near the finish line.  It was a thrill running the last 800m through the cheering crowd. This experience, however, didn't prepare me for what was to come at the orienteering race.

Orienteering is similar to cross country running except you have to navigate through the wilderness to a series of checkpoints. At each station, there would be a triangular flag marking the location of an electronic check-in. Small "keys" would record our split when inserted into the check-in device.  A map (annotated in Danish, of course) tells you where to find each checkpoint. There were actually four different courses, so you couldn't always rely on following the people in front of you.

The Danes take sport seriously and are always fully equipped. Some people wore spandex running unitards, specially designed orienteering shoes, and shin guards. Most brought a compass too, but I was advised that it wouldn't be necessary. Uh-oh, this race would be a success if I just made it back by the end of the night.

At 6:17, I was finally given the map of the actual course I was to run. At 6:18, I started. Thirty seconds later I had already run past the first marker. Then, I wasted another four minutes to realize my mistake. I was off to a dubious start. The course took us through a public forest, into a subdivision, past a school and up several hills.  We had to pick our steps around "cow patties" all the way up one hill.  Another station was guarded by a family of swans. As I ran past, they hissed and chased me. The most annoying obstacle, though, were the fire needles (small wild plants that made you legs burn when they scraped you). Between the physical exertion and fire needles, I was becoming partially delirious midway through the race, and "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurhythmics started playing in my head.  

Around station 12 of 19, I caught up with another competitor on my course. I tailed him until the final stretch. He reached the next to last checkpoint just 15 seconds before me, but I was determined to expend the last of my energy to finish first. I ran the last 800m as fast as I could, moving ahead just as the finish came into sight. As I was about to cross the finish line, I heard my teammates yelling something to me. Turning, I realized that there was one more checkpoint just 15m behind that I had blown past. By the time I ran back for it, my competitor was able to finish ahead of me. Even still, I got a lot of satisfaction out of just making it back. Thirty seconds later it started to downpour.

Afterward, we were treated to sandwiches, fruit, brownies, candy bars, and even a bottle of wine.  Hungry from all the exertion, it was better than any 5-star restaurant.  There had been a similar party after the 5k race, where someone even set up candles to complete the hygge (cozy) atmosphere. I tried to describe how these little celebrations were different than home, but the Danes didn't quite understand. They asked, "what would you do afterward?" My first thought was, "go home and sleep!"