by Pamela Scott Crace

 In Copenhagen I had my spirit cleansed.

It wasn't the freedom of late lunches on the canals. It wasn't the endless vista of church spires and trees relaxed against a horizon of seaborne wind turbines, or the joy of riding a bicycle without fear, without gears, without-gasp!-a helmet. And it wasn't the magnificent new Opera or "the Mountain" apartments, where sunbathing naked is cool and cars aren't. It wasn't even my new boots.

It just took a slow walk through Soul Wash, a cheeky installation resembling giant orange feather dusters, to have my consciousness gently nudged. This was in the Danish Design Centre on Hans Christian Andersen Boulevard. The Centre interprets architecture, craft, and design. A current exhibit, It's a Small World, explores new thinking about sustainability during the run up to U.N. climate change talks in December.

Yes, we saw a predictable display on green cars, and on weaning ourselves off fossil fuels and on to smart grids. More compelling was a film projected on the wall of the same room, hard to ignore. It looped a tour of city streets from a cyclist's point of view. You are invited to sit and watch on a giant Slinky-like bench made of experimental material for outdoor furniture. Soon it will find its way into a Danish park and then, hopefully, a park in Chicago, or Melbourne, or Halifax. Danes like to master a design then export it. Think of those giant windmills.

Going on next to Soul Wash was a video montage about how to improve the lives of seniors. Nearby, the bricks used to build the new Playhouse were on display. Why? Because their design was an innovation conceived in a partnership between the architect, the brick-makers, and the masons. The result is stunningly beautiful, and it revived a tired industry.

A scale model of a 62,000-square-metre (almost 700,000-square-feet!) mixed-use development shaped like a figure eight is definitely the work of architects brought up on Lego. It incorporates the same design ethos as "the Mountain," a philosophy based on ingenuity and conviviality. Carparks get northern exposures. Apartments and courtyards get the sun. Gardens abound. Corridors are wide for socializing with neighbours. And marvel at this: you can ride your bike to your front door, 10 storeys up.

In the Centre's windows I notice thin wafers—Sun Tiles are funky energy-producing drapes. Finally, I inspect a plain old swing. A Danish design: smooth wooden seat, quality rope. Five of them hang from the ceiling at different heights. They are there to swing on, and to think.

In Denmark, the conversation about sustainability has come full circle, from energy to essence. And the conversation is on a human scale.  

Small is beautiful, even when it's big.