DETACHMENT from the city’s multitude of distractions is only possible in small oases of isolation in
City of the (Re)Orientated. In this city the ‘map’ has long been useless, its streets continually reshaped by their walkers, vendors, sponsors, hobby street-artists and salvation-sellers. In this anthill of possibilities only the most elastic orientation software can direct the city’s inhabitants through its myriad of shifting, tangled streets. As private dwellings of the city connect to this mobile space, more parks, institutions and cinemas detach themselves from mobile invasion.
Two interdependent territories grow back to back: the first is a mobile, shifting space that is continually intent on becoming ever more stimulating, responsive and distracting. In the shadows of the mobile territory grow the immobile spaces. They become ever more out-of-reception and are intent on appealing to the focussed eye.
The ivory towers were made by the Swiss artisan Lorenz Spengler, who worked at the court of the Danish kings Christian VI and Frederik V. Several members of the royal family spent part of their considerable leisure time as pupils in Spengler’s workshop. Much of the work is purely ornamental, and some of the articles nominally for everyday use are so frail that an uncontrolled breath would cause them to break into pieces.
An avid conchologist and art collector, Spengler became manager of the Royal Kunstkammer and thus one of the first museum professionals in Denmark. The complex ornamental lathe-work of these ivory towers from Lorenz Spengler’s workshop testifies above all to the refinement of late 18th century tastes. The delicacy and exquisiteness of detail, as well as the choice of materials and subject matter, allow us a glimpse of life at the summit of absolute monarchy in Europe.