Copenhagen’s Big, Fat Secret

It leads you to the unexpected when you least expect it.

I am a writer of fiction—a vocation of which I am very fond. But I research a lot, and sometimes I come across something big—so big it needs to see the light of day. There will be no fiction today, just facts.

How Copenhagen's most famous mall, Fisketorvet, was originally built as the Mall of Michigan (aptly dubbed MOM by locals) in Michigan's capital, Lansing, in 1998. But in the fall of 1999 it was tak-en apart brick by brick and shipped to Copenhagen where it was rebuilt under its new name Fisketorvet.

For 20 years Copenhagen has been growing: Corporate headquarters, subterranean trains, prestigious public buildings, bridges and several new neighborhoods—a yuppie haven.

But walking around New Copenhagen can be strangely alienating. Everything looks like it was made somewhere else, like it doesn't belong here. On good days these areas just look silly—mutant babies of the imposing and the generic. On bad days it seems like these architectural structures weren't even made for sentient beings.

The result: Entire areas with an eerie Downtown-Blade-Runner-made-from-brightly-coloured-Lego-blocks look and feel—like someone has given the same oversized Lego kit to a hundred giant ba-bies and then told them to make something nice with an international feel, a corporate theme park, something not quite real, trying to seduce you into thinking its intentions are benign.

Where does this style come from?

The 90s. A roaring decade fueled by new technology, newer drugs and even newer ways of doing big money transactions. And there was money aplenty in 90s Copenhagen, a cliché financial and cultural boom. Those were fast times, faster than most people remember.

Doing research for my next novel (The Battle of Copenhagen, a futuristic trilogy about Big Market, guns, creative banking and germs) I came across a business man with intriguing ties to finance and politics—a regular how, what, why and who of the entrepreneurial business.

That is until it all went terribly wrong for this guy.

Late 2014 this guy went bankrupt—the kind of bankrupt that makes you flee the country.

This proved interesting, to say the least.

I called up an old friend working in the law firm investigating the mess the business man had left behind.

Their findings were substantial, to put it mildly.

Spanning almost 30 years of string-pulling in finance and politics, the business man had left behind a vast criminal legacy, and strangely, it was all very well-documented.

Suffering from a severe case of paranoia, he had painstakingly documented every move and deal he'd made since the 80s, in writing, audio, photos and video, dating all the way back to VHS. His estate north of Copenhagen had an entire room of documentation.

When I smell blood, I can be… resourceful. I called up some other people and did a little quid pro quo and within days stuff started to appear in my DropBox: First, a few digital sticky notes, dark web links, lo res video recordings etc., and then a recording of a telephone conversation between the aforementioned businessman and a government official sealing MOM's reinvention as Fisketorvet—proof that monsters do indeed walk among us.

The preceding cover-up is a story as strange as it is criminal.

Short recap: Mall Of Michigan was opened in April 1998, but only a few months later it became apparent that its closure was imminent.

For generations Michigan's main source of income had been car manufacturing, a now almost de-funct industry, leaving Michigan in severe recession. Most of MOM stood empty and the place was on the brink of impending bankruptcy—no customers, no revenue.

Then someone came up with a plan: Let's sell MOM to parties in need of a cheap mall.

That someone was an old school chum of our local Copenhagen businessman with whom he had shared two years of business college in an allegedly coke-fueled fraternity.

The weirdness of the plot thickens.

Through some quick thinking and administrative skullduggery a deal was made, making it possible for an investment firm, Rodamco-Unibail, to buy MOM at a favorable price and rebuild it in Copen-hagen way below the usual construction costs. The goal of this would be for the investment firm and those involved to be able to split the difference between the initial bid for Fisketorvet—made by a company named Keeler Architects—and the actual cost of erecting a pre-made building. This would be good for Keeler Architects in that they could take credit for a prestigious building without spending any real time on it, and move on, the modus operandi of the fast-paced 90s.

The following is a transcript of a phone conversation between the businessman and a government official. Names are being withheld due to criminal investigation. Comments in parentheses are mine, as is the translation.

01.26, Thursday the 28th of October, 1999. Businessman Nielsen calls government official Larsen.

[Ringtone].

Larsen: "Yeah?"

Nielsen: [Excited. Slurred voice, possible intoxication]. "It's me. Lansing just called."

Larsen: "What?"

Nielsen: "Mall of Michigan! It's being shipped over on the 3rd."

Larsen: "So…"

Nielsen: "Yes, dammit! And we got a bunch of architects ready to take the credit. Genius!" [Sound of a drink being poured]. "The most beautiful team of government officials and private sector ex-perts, ever!"

Larsen: "Is such an endeavor even possible?"

Nielsen: "Of course, it is! Ever been to Elk Horn, Iowa?"

Larsen: "No. My wife hates flying."

Nielsen: "Elk Horn got an old mill from Nørre Snede. They took it apart, numbered every piece, shipped it to Iowa and rebuilt it. That was in 1976! And we're in 1999!"

Larsen: "Point taken."

Nielsen: "Elk Horn is marvelous! They have Dannebrog and Old Glory neck and neck all the way down main street. They drive huge trucks, they serve Danish pastries—gods among men!"

Larsen: "This is OK with everybody?"

Nielsen: "Are you nuts?!" [Click of a lighter]. "Finally the American architects get paid, the Danish architects get a free ride and your buddies in politics get to put actual people to work."

Larsen: "No one opposes?"

Nielsen: "Who would oppose? We are the good guys here: Helping poor Americans, making politi-cians and business people happy and giving the locals access to even more well-lit consumer goods. People are happy—kids-hopped-up-on-sugar-in-Disneyland happy!"

Larsen: "What if people find out?"

Nielsen: [Gurgles]. "How?"

Larsen: "Wouldn't people recognize the architectural style as distinctly American?"

Nielsen: [Proverbial LOL]. "Are you certified? Have you even seen the plans for everything else being built down there? Do you think someone actually took the time to practice actual architec-ture? Believe me, everything built on the Copenhagen waterfront in the next ten years will be pre-fab! Who cares!? None of it is meant to last more than a decade or two anyhoo."

Larsen: "No one can tell this mall is from Michigan?"

Nielsen: "Of course not! The entire waterfront will be a clusterfuck of every ready-made architec-tural style possible. Nobody will be able to tell anything from anything. Look at the rest of the coun-try: All new houses in Jutland look like clones of American houses from the Midwest. Look at the center of Copenhagen: American franchises back to back."

Larsen: "And yet The Danish People's Party worries about Muslim imperialism."

Nielsen: [Exalted]. "My, Larsen. Growing a sense of humor?"

Larsen: "Sorry. Won't happen again. Just a little worried. Entrepreneurial business is at an all-time high and the possibilities of doing something more… substantial are endless."

Nielsen: "Dammit, Larsen! Get it while it's still there to get and get out before the confetti hits the floor. Even The Social Democrats get this! What are all the pot-smoking, soy-milk-guzzling egg-heads from RUC gonna do once the buildings are erect?" [Drinking]. "Once the smoke clears we'll stand tall as the ones who did what needed to be done!"

Larsen: "Shouldn't we take time to create a district plan for the entire area?"

Nielsen: "And spoil the hard work? My dear friend, the very idea of not having a district plan is for everybody with some money to be able to do whatever they want as fast as they can and keep the gods of banking happy."

Larsen: "What are you talking about?"

Nielsen: "Speed! It's a new day, thank God. This is our time, Larsen. To people like us—people with clarity and vision—the present is all about one thing and one thing only."

Larsen: "Dare I ask?"

Nielsen: "Prosperity! Either we do this now, or some one else does it—or even worse: Some bleed-ing heart nutcase comes along and puts up a public community center and a falafel stand."

Larsen: "Well, I'm thinking the benefits of a well thought-out district plan for the entire waterfront could effectively strengthen the city on numerous fronts. First, it could create better living condi-tions for the local population. I'm thinking large park-like areas and such. If we, by the same token, make the buildings facing the waterfront work together as an architectural whole the benefits would be twofold: Better living conditions for the locals and the most spectacular waterfront any European capital has ever seen! Which serves my second point: Using the restoration of the Copenhagen waterfront to create a stronger international brand for our nation's capital! We have a unique oppor-tunity to work with an entire waterfront of a major European capital here. How often does that happen? Never! It's glorious: A greener and more beautiful city for the great people of Copenhagen and a stronger international brand, which ultimately will create a huge surge in revenue from tour-ists."

Nielsen: "Leave the tourists to Christiania and the Royal Family! Dress up every single building down there as a Christmas tree—nobody wants to paddle through the Copenhagen harbor on a cold October day anyhoo."

Larsen: "But look what Docklands did for London. Look what The Sydney Opera House did for Sydney. And that was just one building! We have the opportunity to do 20 proverbial opera houses."

Nielsen: "What you're talking about takes time and planning—lots of it—with the countless and endless meetings with the blah blah, the chain smoking and the ulcer from too much coffee. No more romantic whining! Utzon was a dreamer with no hold in reality, an idealist. Amateurs, the lot of them!"

Larsen: "You're not afraid of the place ending up suffering from the same kind of problems as they do in The States?"

Nielsen: "What do you mean?"

Larsen: "That, as a mall, it'll attract hordes of the young and the restless."

Nielsen: "Of course it will! But look at it this way: As long as the thugs and little people are at the mall, at least the police know where to find them."

Larsen: "The area still suffers from a considerable amount of social challenges. Favoring a mall over the likes of… a public library, wouldn't people criticize us for pampering the private sector?"

Nielsen: "You know Danish politics. Any sober politician will see this place as a self-financing day care center for the area's disenfranchised youth, a bonus on top of the new jobs and increased revenue."

Larsen: "Maybe … "

Nielsen: "The people will thank us when we're through. These are glorious times, my friend. The world is yours if only you know how to work a spreadsheet."

Larsen: "Maybe you're right…"

Nielsen: "Of course, I'm right! What do the people want?"

Larsen: "What does who want?"

Nielsen: "The people don't know what the people want! You have to tell them and then give it to them before any kind of cognition occurs."

Larsen: "I don't think I follow…"

Nielsen: "The big picture! Look at the outskirts of this country. Entrepreneurial business is all about keeping people where they belong. All those people who used to work the floors of our factories, remember them? Guess what? We don't need them anymore. Keep 'em where they belong in places they can afford, like Lolland Falster. And the people we do need: all the over-educated, ve-gan, Mac-using, yoga somethings we keep in city enclaves with mortgages too high for them to have time to even think about swimming with the rainforests or hugging a dolphin. There is a very specific reason why every rich person in this country lives just down the street from me. The less the different groups of this little kingdom mix the better."

Larsen: "Don't we risk getting accused of facilitating a short-sighted bonanza for the quick and the ruthless, financed by exploiting the ignorant and indifferent?"

Nielsen: "Can't hear you, Larsen. I'm 16 miles off the South African coast, standing starboard on my 70-foot yacht getting ready for the good ol' dynamite fishing —the engine is terribly noisy."

Larsen: "What?"

Nielsen: "Eyes on the ball, Larsen! Keep it going for a few more years and get out while you're still young enough to enjoy the spoils of high-end prostitution." (Car tires outside). "Oh, the missus is home. Tennis Friday?"

Larsen: "… Well, I …"

Nielsen: "Balls Larsen, balls!"

Shortly after this conversation the first shipment from Lansing arrived in Copenhagen and the re-building of MOM as Fisketorvet went ahead with no further friction.

Keeler Architects and the company behind the transformation of MOM, Skanska Øresund, haven't made any public statements as of yet.

According to sources Nielsen is in Brazil following his personal bankruptcy.

Larsen still works as a government official and Michigan is still in the throes of recession.

Various blogs have mentioned the possibility of Copenhagen-based British-American documentary filmmaker Joshua Oppenheimer basing his next film on the curious origins of Fisketorvet. Title: Copenhagen's Big, Fat Secret: How a Nation's Capital Was Taken Hostage by Big Money (sorry for stealing the title, Josh).

This is your nation's capital, and it looks more and more like North Cali sprawl by the minute.

Take a walk along the Copenhagen waterfront, slow down for a few paces and take it in. Does any of it even look like something we would build in this country? I think not.

No one is really in charge, no one takes any real responsibility. This is the city we live in and it grows and moves to a beat beyond our control. Our habitat is run and controlled by interest groups who think the city doesn't belong to living, breathing people but to faceless gods of The Spread Sheet.

We had it right in our hands: The most glorious opportunity a European capital has ever seen—a zenith we will never see again.

But we were busy. It was 1999 and even partying like it was 1999 was getting old. Slaves to sensa-tion, we needed new kicks and we moved on.