Copenhagen Opera House

Listen first. Water slaps softly against the stone quay. Somewhere behind you, a harbour bus hums as it pulls away. Above your head, a vast flat roof reaches out over the water, so far that it seems to float. On a grey Danish afternoon, the light goes pale and silver under that roof. When the sun comes out, the whole glass front of the building turns to gold. This is the Copenhagen Opera House, and you are standing at its edge, where the city meets the sea.

Before we look at the building itself, turn around and look straight across the harbour. Do you see the green copper dome on the far side? That is Frederik's Church, which locals call the Marble Church. Between you and that dome sits Amalienborg, the palace of the Danish royal family. This is not an accident. The opera house was placed on a direct line with the palace and the church. The three buildings form a single axis across the water, old Copenhagen and new Copenhagen facing each other.

The island under your feet is called Holmen. For centuries, this part of the city belonged to the Danish navy. Ships were built, repaired and stored here. Sailors and shipwrights worked in long brick sheds along the water. Much of that maritime character still survives around you, in the warehouses and old naval buildings nearby. When the navy pulled back from this area, a large waterfront opened up. It became one of the most valuable building sites in the capital.

Here is the first surprise. The Danish state did not pay for this opera house. It was a gift. The money came from the foundation of Arnold Peter Møller, the founder of the Maersk shipping company. His son, Mærsk Mc-Kinney Møller, drove the project forward. When the building opened in 2005, it was handed over to the nation. Few countries have received a national opera house as a private present. The decision was celebrated, but it was also debated in Danish newspapers and in parliament.

The architect was Henning Larsen, one of Denmark's most respected designers. His working relationship with the donor was not always easy. The patron had strong opinions about details, materials and the shape of the facade. Larsen later wrote openly about his frustrations during the project. So when you look at this building, you are looking at a compromise between two determined men. Some critics loved the result. Others felt it was too heavy. You can decide for yourself as you walk around it.

Look up now at that roof. It is the single strongest gesture of the whole design. The roof stretches out far beyond the glass wall, and it covers the open plaza where you stand. It works like a giant porch. It shades the entrance, frames the view to the palace, and gives the building its long horizontal line. From across the harbour, the roof makes the opera house look low and calm, almost like a ship moored at the quay.

Now look at the walls on either side of the glass front. They are clad in pale limestone, quarried abroad and brought here for this building. The stone is smooth and light in colour. In soft northern light it looks almost cream. After rain, it darkens and shows its grain. Between these stone walls sits the great glass facade. It is divided into a grid of metal and glass panels, and it curves gently outward, like the front of a wave.

Through that glass you can see the second surprise. Inside, a huge curved shape rises through the foyer. It looks like the hull of a wooden ship, or the body of a giant musical instrument. This is the outer shell of the main auditorium, and it is covered in warm maple wood. The architect wanted the hall to sit inside the foyer like an object you could walk around. The wooden curve climbs several stories, and balconies and stairs wrap around it.

Hang inside the foyer are three large light sculptures by the Danish Icelandic artist Olafur Eliasson. He is known for work that plays with light, colour and perception. His lamps are made of many glass pieces arranged in layers. As you move, the colours and reflections seem to shift. At night, seen from across the harbour, these lamps glow behind the glass like lanterns. Many people never notice that they are artworks at all.

The main auditorium seats well over a thousand people. Its interior continues the theme of warm wood, with dark tones and rich surfaces chosen for good sound. The ceiling above the audience shines with gold leaf. When the house lights dim, that gold catches the last glow before the stage lights rise. The opera house is home to the Royal Danish Opera, part of the Royal Danish Theatre. Opera, ballet and concerts all take place here across the season.

If you cannot attend a performance, the building still rewards a slow walk outside. Follow the quay along the side of the opera house. You will see how the stone and glass meet the water. You will notice smaller details, like the edges of the plaza and the way the roof casts long shadows in the evening. Watch the harbour itself too. Kayaks, ferries and small boats pass constantly. In summer, people sit along the edge with their feet over the water.

The best way to arrive or leave is by water. The yellow harbour buses stop close to the building. From the deck, you get the full view: the long roof, the glowing glass, and the low line of Holmen behind it. Arriving by boat also makes sense of the design. This building was made to face the harbour. Its front door, in a way, is the water. Copenhagen has always been a city that looks outward to the sea.

Before you go, stand once more under the edge of the roof. Look across to the copper dome and the palace beyond. Feel how quiet the plaza can be, even in the middle of a capital city. Listen to the water against the quay, and the gulls overhead. A shipping fortune paid for this place, on an island where the navy once built its ships. As you walk away, look back. The opera house still faces the sea.