Seren Kjerkegor – Čovek je biće

koje očajava
Seren Kjerkegor (1813-1855) rođen je u Kopenhagenu. Studirao je filozofiju i
teologiju. Samosvojna ličnost, zainteresovan za pitanja suštine egzistencije
i apsoluta, rastrzan pitanjima filozofske prirode ostavio je verenicu Reginu
Olsen, premda je istinski voleo do kraja života, uz obrazloženje da uz njega
nikada ne bi bila srećna.

Da sam se oženio za pola godine, pa i manje, ona bi se satrla. Sa mnom je povezano – i to je

ono dobro i ono loše u vezi sa mnom – nešto sablasno, nešto što ne dopušta nikome da me
trpi ako mora biti sa mnom svaki dan i ako sa mnom ima stvarni odnos.

Čovek i očajanje
U svoju egzistencijalističku filozofiju unosi teološke poglede propitujući nekoliko
stupnjeva na čovekovom putu. Svaki čovek strepi, njegovo utemeljenje jeste u
osećanju strepnje kao vrtoglavice koja nastaje od date slobode. U takvoj
situaciji čovek očajava.

Očajanje je, misli Kjerkegor, i prednost i mana. Prednost očajnika sastoji se u

njegovoj svesti o tome da je čovek jer ga upravo očajanje razlikuje od životinje i
uzdiže na dve noge. Očajanje mu daje beskrajnu uspravljenost koja ga imenuje
duhom. Mana je ta što očajanje vodi ka nesreći, time i izgubljenosti. U ovoj
sintezi događa se čovek.

U knjizi Bolest na smrt Kjerkegor zaključuje:

Očajanje se nalazi u samom čoveku; ali da čovek nije sinteza on uopšte ne bi mogao
očajavati i da tu sintezu nije prvobitno dobio iz božjih ruku, u pravom odnosu, onda takođe
ne bi mogao očajavati.
Stupnjevi na životnom putu
Čovek je, dakle, božje delo i mora imati odnos prema apsolutu. U početku je pre-
dat kao deo kolektiva i tek je na njemu da se izgradi kao pojedinac.

Postoje, smatra Kjerkegor, tri stupnja koja prolazi svaki čovek na životnom

putu.

 Estetički stupanj je čulne prirode i podređen je strastima. Ideal

ovog stupnja je Don Žuan. Na njemu čovek luta u potrazi za čistim
zadovoljstvom.
  Etički nivo događa se kod čoveka koji je svestan svog neznanja, koji
razmišlja i zalaže se za poštovanje određenih etičkih
principa. Sokrat je idealan primer čoveka na etičkom stupnju.
 Religiozni stupanj, oličen u Avramu kao idealnom čoveku, događa
se kada čovek veruje bez ikakvih primisli o etičkom i estetičkom
stadijumu puta.

Etička ličnost je, misli Kjerkegor, kao tiha voda koja ima duboko
korito. Estetičar živi samo na površini, ne zalazi dublje u bit stvari. Religiozni
čovek je zapravo slobodan čovek svestan toga da je Bog ljubav.

U Brevijaru Kjerkegor piše:

To još ne znači da vera razume kako je to odluka božja o izvesnom čoveku – ljubav. U ovome
baš i jeste paradoks vere – verovati, a ne razumeti.

Čovek kao sinteza

Kjerkegor će, poput Dostojevskog, pisati o univerzalnosti krivice koja čoveka
često postavlja u neprijatne situacije vodeći ga na ivicu provalije. Čovek je, misli
Kjerkegor, „sinteza beskonačnosti i konačnosti, prolaznog i večnog,
slobode o nužnosti, ukratko – sinteza“.

Čovek na religioznom stupnju jedini je koji je svestan toga da gomila navodi na

neodgovornost. Takav čovek, prema Kjerkegoru, nikada ne može biti svestan
toga da:

Samo onaj ko ume suštinski da ćuti, taj ume suštinski da govori. Samo onaj koji ume
suštinski da ćuti ume suštinski da dela. Ćutljivost je osećajnost.
Sloboda i egzistencija
Lav Šestov će tako u svojoj knjizi Kjerkegor i egzistencijalistička
filozofija uputiti na činjenicu čovekovog pada koji se u Kjerkegorovom slučaju
dogodio kada je shvatio koliko smo veru kao neograničenu mogućnost zamenili
znanjem kao umrtvljujućim večnim principom.

Tako će, nasuprot ustaljenom mišljenju o čuđenju kao izvoru filozofije, Kjerkegor
zastupati očajanje kao podsticaj za postavljanje filozofskih i
egzistencijalnih pitanja. Samo čovek koji je, poput Jova, dostigao užas može
dobiti uzvišenu snagu da shvati prosvetljujuće reči – sve je moguće – i na taj
način pristupi uzvišenom, religioznom stadijumu.

U otvorenosti i mogućnosti samospoznaje čovek ima s-misao

postojanja. Sloboda se događa tek u odnosu prema samom sebi. Sloboda
se ne odigrava u izboru između dobra i zla, nego tek u čovekovom odnosu
prema samom sebi, samoizboru svoje suštine i egzistencije, očajanja

Biografija
Seren Obi Kjerkegor rodio se 5. maja 1813. godine u Kopenhagenu. Njegov lični život obilježili su
događaji koje je dansko društvo smatralo skandaloznima, a tu spadaju: porodična mitologija, raskid
vjeridbe s Reginom Olsen, napad satiričnog lista „Gusar” na Serena i istupi filozofa protiv Crkve.

Serenov otac, Mikal, poticao je iz siromašne porodice. U mladosti je u neobično teškim uslovima
čuvao ovce, i prokleo je Boga zbog svoga teškog života. To je osnov prvog porodičnog mita.
Tumačeći svoj grijeh po Starom zavjetu, otac je smatrao da će Bog zbog njegovog prestupa
kažnjavati cijelu porodicu, te je djecu vaspitao u duhu vjerskog fanatizma. Poslat u Kopenhagen kada
mu je bilo 12 godina otac budućeg filozofa se brzo osamostalio i obogatio. Mladi Seren je, međutim,
gotovo cjelokupnu imovinu koju je naslijedio od oca utrošio na štampanje knjiga, a poslednju paru
namijenio je za štampanje anticrkvenih letaka, koji su izlazili pod zajedničkim nazivom „Trenutak“.
Osnov drugog porodičnog mita je to što je Serenova majka bila druga žena njegovog oca. Vjenčali su
se godinu dana posle smrti njegove prve žene, a četiri mjeseca kasnije se rodilo njihovo prvo dijete.
Po religijskom moralu – zgriješili su. U drugom braku otac je imao sedmoro djece, od kojih je Seren
bio najmlađi. Majka i petoro djece, od koji četvoro nisu dočekali ni 33 godine – Hristov vijek, umrli
su, iz čega je Kjerkegorov otac zaključio da je to božja kazna zbog počinjenog grijeha.
Sumorna atmosfera u kući uzrok je što Seren nije u roku završio teološke studije koje je započeo
1830. godine. Kao dvadesettrogodišnjak seli se iz kuće i vodi raspusan život iako otac više puta
pokušava da ga vrati sa grešnog puta. Iznenadna očeva smrt 1838. godine navela ga je da završi
prekinute studije. Završne ispite polaže 1840. godine, a već sljedeće godine završava disertaciju pod
naslovom „O pojmu ironije“. Završetak njegovih studija se vremenski poklapa sa „Regininim
slučajem“. Septembra 1840. godine Seren se vjerio s Reginom Olsen, a posle nepunih godinu dana
raskida vjeridbu. Pojedinostima i uzrocima raskida posvetio je cijelo poglavlje knjige „Stadijumi
na životnom putu“, pod naslovom „Kriv? Nekriv? Istorija patnje. Psihološki eksperiment“.
Posle boravka u Berlinu, gde je slušao predavanja Šelinga, koja su ga brzo razočarala, počinje
razdoblje stvaralačke euforije, koje traje od 1843. do 1846, odnosno do godine u kojoj je Kjerkegor
očekivao svoju smrt. Najprije je objavio knjigu pod antihegelovskim naslovom „Ili-ili“, koja se
pojavila pod pseudonimom Viktor Eremit. Knjiga prikazuje dva tipa života: estetski, slobodan od
odgovornosti, i etički, u kome se čovjek podređuje zahtjevima društvenog života. Završni dio knjige
sadrži i propoziciju religijskog tipa života. Između tih tipova života nema kompromisa. Postoji
alternativa: ili, ili.
Ubrzo potom pojavila se knjiga „Ponavljanje“, izdata pod pseudonimom Konstantin Konstantinus.
Istovremeno pojavila se i knjiga „Strah i drhtanje“, koju je objavio pod pseudonimom Johanes de
Silencio. Obije knjige se dopunjavaju predstavljajući događaj u literaturi i filozofiji, a kroz obije
knjige se takođe provlači i problem Regine i oca.
Potom Kjerkegor piše „Filozofske mrvice“ i „Završni nenaučni postskriptum uz
filozofske mrvice“. U filozofskom pogledu to su njegove najvažnije knjige. „Pojam strepnje“,
naredna knjiga, sadrži psihološku interpretaciju bespredmetne strepnje, kao i njenu konfrontaciju sa
dogmom prvog grijeha.
Tokom devet godina koje su uslijedile posle datuma očekivane smrti napisao je jedva tri knjige. Na
samrtnoj postelji je završio pisanje „Dnevnika“, koji je imao čak 2845 strana. Ovaj najveći danski
filozof posljednje dane proveo je u bolnici u kojoj je umro 11. novembra 1855. godine. Na
nadgrobnom spomeniku uklesan je, u skladu sa filozofovom željom, stih iz Brorsonove crkvene
pesme: „-{Det er en liden tid, saa har jeg vunden…}-“
Kjerkegorov značaj za razvitak evropske filozofije postao je vidljiv tek početkom prošlog vijeka, a
najveći je uticaj imao na razvitak egzistencijalističke misli dvadesetih i tridesetih godina, koji se
održao sve do naših dana.
FILLED with man-purses and tolerance and kaftans draped on the backs of
cafe chairs, should the temperature suddenly drop, Copenhagen is
notoriously too civilized. At stoplights, bicycles queue with a Tetris-like
geometry, and the natives never jaywalk. (Step into one of their bike lanes,
and a Dane might sniff at you; but in three days of walking the expanse of
Copenhagen, I never once heard a car horn.) How did a city so orderly, so
sleepily self-satisfied, ever produce Soren Kierkegaard?

Kierkegaard was a vain provocateur, a study in flamboyant perversity. The

father of existentialism, he asserted the primacy of the individual in all his or
her raging contradiction, an assertion he made as emphatically in his
personal life as in his writings. He did this first by thrusting himself out into
Copenhagen's public spaces, walking its streets so relentlessly, according to
the bills from his shoemaker, he regularly wore through his soles. And then,
when the city he loved tired of him, and turned him into a figure of public
fun, he did it by thrusting himself inward.

Toying with multiple selves, shrinking from others for fear of ridicule,
dignifying self-pity as martyrdom — is it any wonder I worshiped Kierkegaard
in college? This past fall, I flew to Copenhagen to look for traces of my former
hero in interpersonal abjection. The public displays for him are discreet and
rare: a few plaques, a statue at the Royal Library gardens, a modest collection
of furniture in the Copenhagen City Museum. To find Kierkegaard in
Copenhagen — and he is still there — one must ignore the tasteful public
homage, and look harder.

I began my search for Kierkegaard in the Frederiksberg Gardens — “that

wonderful garden which for the child was the enchanted land where the king
lived with the queen,” as Kierkegaard wrote in “Concluding Unscientific
Postscript.” In early autumn, it was indeed wonderful. The air was bitingly
clear, the grass freshly mown and beneath trees that had been groomed to
within an inch of their lives, lovers petted one another to within an inch of
theirs. Joggers, geese, sunbathers dotted a greensward sloping up to a
beautiful Baroque palace, the old summer residence of Danish royalty. If we
are to believe one of his alter egos, it was amid all this unremitting
pleasantness that Kierkegaard comprehended “that it was my task: to make
difficulties everywhere.”
 The story of Kierkegaard and Copenhagen is one of “difficulties,” to say the
least. At just the moment Kierkegaard was emerging as the first
quintessentially modern philosopher, Copenhagen was emerging as a
quintessentially modern city. The daguerreotype and shop-window dressing
had arrived in the Ostergade, and its commercial boulevards were now places
for strangers to inspect one another, to gossip and seduce. The well-to-do son
of a hosiery magnate, Kierkegaard was equal parts fascinated and repelled by
the hurly-burly. His hero was Socrates, whom he once called the “virtuoso of
the casual encounter,” and Kierkegaard quickly became famous in the city for
his own epic strolls, during which he chatted hungrily with everyone he
encountered, from the city's elect to the fishwives in the Gammel Strand. “I
regard the whole of Copenhagen,” he wrote, “as one great social gathering.”

Continue reading the main story

RELATED COVERAGE

Copenhagen, Denmark JULY 21, 2010

In many respects, Copenhagen is still the city Kierkegaard knew. “Some of my

countrymen probably think that Copenhagen is a boring town and a small
town,” Kierkegaard wrote in his “Stages on Life's Way.” “To me, on the
contrary, it is the most favorable habitat I could wish for. Big enough to be a
major city, small enough that there is no market price on human beings.”
True, the hurly-burly has spread since his day, and in ways that would have
appalled his fragile sensibilities. In Radhus Pladsen, the heart of modern
Copenhagen, the giant mansard roofs are done up like a Nascar driver,
bedecked with corporate logos. For much of its length, the pedestrian-only
Stroget is fast-food parlors and college kids pretending to be riffraff, that
Euro-kitsch that follows you from one European city to another. But what
Kierkegaard found in Copenhagen is still here: street bustle if you want it;
when exiting the main thoroughfares, a sense of deep, meditative respite.

What fouled so promising a relationship between the philosopher and his

city? As a young man, he fell madly in love with Regine Olsen, the fetching
daughter of a prominent Danish banker. (On the day he met the 14-year-old
Regine — he was 23 — he wrote in his journal, “I stand like a solitary spruce,
egoistically unfettered and pointing upwards, throwing no shadow, and no
stock-dove builds its nest in my branches.”) He proposed to her, and she
eventually accepted. For reasons that have never been made clear,
Kierkegaard then decided he could never marry. To end the relationship
decisively, he committed to making Regine despise him. He was viciously
cold, and to her father he played the part of the scoundrel, even though he
remained a devoted celibate. With Regine in near-suicidal despair, and
 Kierkegaard's name blackened in Copenhagen high society forever, the
engagement finally terminated.

Photo

A statue of Soren Kierkegaard, who loved the gardens. CreditJohn McConnico for The
New York Times

Excruciating as the episode was, it may have placed second in Kierkegaard's

pantheon of emotional self-torture. In 1845, Kierkegaard received a bad
review for “Stages on Life's Way.” He responded savagely, ridiculing the
reviewer, and the publication he was most associated with, a satirical paper
called The Corsair. “May I ask to be abused,” Kierkegaard mocked. “The
personal injury of being immortalized by The Corsair is just too much.”
Enraged, the editor of The Corsair responded in kind, attacking Kierkegaard
bitterly and repeatedly, in words and drawings; though he brought it upon
himself, the “Corsair affair,” as it has come to be known, partly destroyed
Kierkegaard. “It was a very decisive and awful experience,” Joakim Garff, the
prominent Danish biographer of Kierkegaard, told me. “It confuses and
frightens him enormously. The disaster is that he is no longer able to walk up
and down the streets of Copenhagen.”
From Frederiksberg, I strolled northeast about 10 minutes to the Assistens
Cemetery, and contemplated the final resting place of Soren Aabye
Kierkegaard — born 1813, died 1855 — beneath birch trees and the swish of
nearby of traffic. From there one can walk east to Peblinge So, one of three
capacious lakes in the center of the city where, along its old Lover's Lane,
Kierkegaard set the opening of his infamous “Seducer's Diary.” (Something is
still in the air. On the dock of a little water cafe, beautiful people lounge on
contoured plastic chairs, appraising one another furtively.) From the Peblinge
it is a quick walk southeast to pick up the Kobmagergade, a far more placid
version of the Stroget, upon which, at the heart of the old city, stands the
magnificent Rundetaarn, or Round Tower, where a young Soren was
confirmed.

I then followed the Ostergade out into the Kongens Nytorv, a mildly
oppressive public square belted by pompous buildings. Here, in the Hotel
D'Angleterre, a looming wedding cake of a structure, a young Kierkegaard
often came for tea and dialectic. Picking up the Niels Juels Gade, I walked
south towards the new Royal Library addition, a black marble-and-glass
parallelogram on the waterfront, set on a plaza named after Kierkegaard. Just
off its entrance there is a mod café called Soren K, the thought of whose $40
monkfish filled me with Kierkegaardian dread. But just as I was thinking “No
no no,” I turned onto the Slotsholmgade, in search of Regine's old family seat.
The “six sisters,” a set of row-house mansions, are now gone, but the street is
peaceful, and the old bourse building, with its magnificent spire of four
intertwined dragon tails, is well worth the detour.

To fully restore my sense of inwardness and melancholy, I followed

Kierkegaard's old path, down the Niels Juels Gade, to the Christians Brygge,
over the Langebro, or Long Bridge, to Christianshavn, an island of old
warehouses that in Kierkegaard's day had fallen on rough times. (After many
incarnations, it is now predictably swank, but still a satisfying escape from
urban commotion.) Here Kierkegaard would stand on the quay, and
contemplate his native city from a distance. “When one stands on the other
side, in Christianshavn,” he wrote in his journal, “one seems to be far, very far
away from Copenhagen.”

Even after the bitter chastening of the Corsair affair, Kierkegaard continued
to walk the streets of Copenhagen. His route often took him past Regine,
herself a rambler, and now happily married. The two, Professor Garff told me,
“are meeting each other regularly, but they never speak. Kierkegaard has a
permanent flirtation with Regine.” Kierkegaard even changed his route, but
there still, he found Regine. “I cannot help smiling when I see her,” he wrote
in his journal. “Ah! how much she has come to mean to me!” Finally, in 1855,
on the day she was to move to the West Indies with her husband, she left her
apartment in search of him, and finding him, she finally addressed him
directly. “She says: ‘God bless you. I hope it will go well for you,' ” Professor
 Garff recounted. Eight months later, after collapsing in the street,
Kierkegaard died from nervous exhaustion.

On my last afternoon in Copenhagen, I followed the great, sonorous half-note

thudding of its bell to the Helligaandskirken, the church where Soren first
laid eyes on precious Regine. It is a brick Romanesque building with tall and
narrow buttresses. The plaza in which it sits, with its brick paving stones laid
out in Victorian fans, is a respite from the nearby Stroget, with its giant poster
of Claudia Schiffer, gilded over like a corpse from a Bond film. From the
Helligaandskirken, I walked the Stroget to the Vor Frue Kirke, Copenhagen's
cathedral. It was near here that Kierkegaard spent his final days. He had
battled with church officialdom, often severely. Nonetheless, the building
itself he could not relinquish. As he wrote in his “Christian Discourses” of
this, the one sheltering interior adequate to his very public misery, “Here in
God's house, everything is so still, so safe.”

VISITOR INFORMATION

WHAT TO SEE

Rundetaarn, Kobmagergade 52; www.rundetaarn.dk. This massive,

cylindrical tower, dating from the mid-17th century, is one of the old city's
most-visited landmarks. Much of Kierkegaard's life unfolded in its shadow,
and it affords far and away the best views of the city. (Admission, 20 Danish
krone; children, 5 krone, or about $3.65 and $.90, at 5.7 Danish krone to the
dollar.)

Photo
The spiraling interior of the Rundetaarn.CreditJohn McConnico for The New York Times
Helligaandskirken; www.helligaandskirken.dk. The Helligaandshuset, the
monastery that adjoins this church, is the oldest church building
in Copenhagen, dating back to the beginning of the 15th century, and the
best-preserved medieval building in the city. Part of the church was destroyed
by fire in 1728, and it was reconstructed in 1880 in a Renaissance style. Here
Kierkegaard was baptized, and he continued to frequent the church
throughout his life, where he could steal glances at the married Regine.

The Copenhagen City Museum, Vesterbrogade 59; (45) 3321-

0772; www.bymuseum.dk, contains a small memorial room to Kierkegaard.
Admission, 20 krone; children free. Free on Fridays; closed Tuesdays.

Royal Library, Soren Kierkegaard Plads; (45) 3347-4747; www.kb.dk. His

public footprint in Copenhagen has been small, but Kierkegaard finally gets
his due in an archive in this sleek new building. Free admission.

WHERE TO EAT

Soren K, Soren Kierkegaard Plads 1; (45) 3347-4949; www.soerenk.dk.

Aside from being upscale, this lovely bistro is everything its namesake wasn't:
bright, trendy, easy on the eye (500 krone, for a tasting menu without wine).
 Noma, Strandgade 93; (45) 3296-3297; www.noma.dk. For a moodier
experience, try the exquisite though pricey Noma, in one of Kierkegaard's
favorite haunts, Christianshavn, an artificial island filled with ancient
warehouses. Noma is in one of these; it is dark, candelit, directly on the canal
and the perfect avatar of what the Danish call hygge: a national devotion to
the warm, the fuzzy, the cozy. The food is an ethereal interpretation of the
otherwise quite rugged cuisine of the North Atlantic. Try the potato chips
with red seaweed, fjord shrimps and chicken skins, all dipped in an oyster
emulsion and cèpe mayonnaise. You might follow that with sautéed
langoustines with oyster and parsley emulsion, rue and seaweed. The seven-
course tasting menu is 685 krone, without wine.

Famo, 3 Saxogade, (45) 3323-2250, www.osteriafamo.dk, was started as a

laidback alternative to the swanky, and highly regarded, Era Ora, but it's
since come into its own as a sweet, unpretentious way to eat a sumptuous
Italian meal in Copenhagen. The beautifully balanced tasting menu is 350
krone a person.

WHERE TO STAY

The Guldsmeden hotels (www.hotelguldsmeden.dk), which offer an organic

breakfast and wireless Internet, are highly recommended. They range in price
from the high-end Bertrams (with doubles at 1,495 krone, with breakfast;
singles from 895 krone) to the mid-range Aaarhus (doubles from 1,150 krone;
singles from 630 krone). We stayed at the Carlton, which is somewhere in
between.

Carlton Hotel Guldsmeden, Vesterbrogade 66; (45) 3322-1500. In the

heart of Vesterbro, with its funky shops and cafes, the hotel has 64 rooms
done in French Colonial style, and an extremely good organic breakfast
buffet. (Doubles from 1,395 krone, including breakfast; single rooms from
795 krone.)

Søren Kierkegaard Statue in the Library

Garden
This memorial for the Danish poet and philosopher (1813-55) has found an adequate location in the
peaceful garden of the Royal Danish Library.
Søren Kierkegaard's memorial plaque
In the house, located at Nytorv until 1908, Søren Kierkegaard was born on 5 maj 1813. Today,
the building houses Danske Bank. 

Søren Kierkegaard was the youngest of seven children, and he lived in the house until 1848.

Today there is a memorial plaque on the building.

University of Copenhagen
The Univeristy of Copenhagen was founded in 1479 and is the oldest and second largest
university and research institution in Denmark.

The university has several campuses located in and around Copenhagen, with the oldest located in
central Copenhagen at Vor Frue Plads across Church of Our Lady.

Søren Kierkegaard had his daily walk at Copenhagen University, where he defended his thesis and
gave lectures.
Cultural centre Assistens
Take a walk with Søren Kierkegaard, Hans Christian Andersen and other famous Danes in the
Danish graveyard of Assistens, part of the cultural venue Kulturcentret Assistens in
Nørrebro. 

The cultural venue Assistens in the area of Nørrebro in Copenhagen is a combined museum, park
and graveyard. Here, visitors can get an insight into the cultural history of the city. 

The graveyard was founded in 1760 and is still used today. In its over 200 years of existence, it has
become the last resting place for a number of famous Danish personalities. 

Hans Christian Andersen and Søren Kierkegaard alive and kicking

Thus the graves of most Danish cultural celebrities are to be found at Assistens. And Hans Christian
Andersen might as well do the same rounds of visiting his friends now as he did when he was alive:
they are all resting within walking distance from his own grave.

Join one of the guided tours, which are held in both Danish and English, at the famous graveyard
where more than 300.000 bodies are entombed. 

Or experience one of the Kulturcenter Assistens' evocations where several of the great personalities
are awaken from the dead, for instance H.C. Andersen and the famous philosopher Søren
Kierkegaard.
Royal Danish Library - The Black
Diamond
The Black Diamond in Copenhagen was finished in 1999 and is an extension to the Royal
Library. The building is shiny, black facets mirror the sea and the sky at the harbour front.

A large incision cleaves the building into two formations and gives light to the atrium inside. The
atrium connects the city with the sea outside as well as the old and new library buildings. The glass
facade is held by iron girders weighing approximately one metric tonne per metre.

Per Kirkeby's impressive 200 square-metre painting adorns the ceiling of the Black Diamond.

Apart from the main functions of a library, the building houses The National Museum of
Photography, a bookshop, a café, a restaurant and the Dronningesalen concert and theatre hall
which seats 600.

Søren Kierkegaard and The National Photomuseum

Here, you can see Søren Kierkegaard's manuscripts which are kept safely in Royal Library's Søren
Kierkegaard Archive. No one outside the library has access to the impressive, large manuscript
collection, and only a very few inside.

The Black Diamond also includes The National Photomuseum.

European School Copenhagen
Healthcare Center for Cancer Patients

Copenhagen International School Nordhavn

Pharma Science Building Copenhagen

Krøyers Plads
Hafdansgade

Frederiksvej Kindergarten
Youth Housing Nansensgade