Anneli Xie
Prof. McNamara
ARTH 200: Architecture and Urban Studies
2020/09/07
Prof. McNamara
ARTH 200: Architecture and Urban Studies
2020/09/07
“Home-made
Eco-Smart Products” and the Steam of Shawarma Shacks:
Taking a Walk around Möllan, Malmö
Taking a Walk around Möllan, Malmö
It
is a crisp Saturday morning when Aleksander and I make our way to the Lund
train station. The city feels strangely alive at 9:30 am, people moving hastily
across the jagged cobblestone, train announcements becoming blurred between the
flapping of pigeon wings and the rolling of suitcases. We are at platform one,
waiting to take the train to Malmö, a 13-minute train ride which we realize is
something we haven’t done in a while. Ever since the pandemic started, our
movements have been fairly limited, and our trips to Malmö have been few and
far in-between. I feel excited about the prospect – of getting out of the
academic bubble of Lund, the university town, and entering the bustle of Malmö
– until my senses disrupt my train of thought. Following the sound of
bird-chatter leads my eyes to a white pigeon on top of a pile of sticks on a
steel beam of the platform. A gray pigeon flies in and sits down next to her,
stick in mouth, and carefully adds it to the stick pile. I smile. I
learned last year that pigeons are life-long couples and when I watch the gray
male fly across the platforms and dive down onto the tracks in search for
sticks, I can’t help but draw connections to my own relationship. “Why don’t
you build me a home?” I ask Aleks while I point upwards. The lady pigeon looks straight
down at us; I wonder if she sees me. We share a moment. Then the train arrives.
Malmö is as lively as always. We get off at Triangeln and make our way to the Möllan neighborhood and the Möllevång Square, where the daily farmer’s market is in full swing. The bicker of market stands and the gentle pinching of fruit; have three cucumbers for $1, take an avocado for free – now is the time to buy pomelos! We breeze through the smell of fresh chanterelles and dialogues smoothly switching between Arabic and Swedish, to be met by Arbetets Ära standing heavy on its pedestal. Erected in 1931, Axel Ebbe’s statue is a nod towards Möllan’s industrial past and a celebration of the 19th century labor movement that started on the square. Foregrounding the market, the statue becomes a reminder of why I like Malmö so much: the mixing of peoples and the conjoining of faiths, the hefty presence of history and the constant focus on the collective.
Fittingly enough, we find ourselves in Malmö to join “Öppna Möllan,” a full-day event where Möllan opens up its private courtyards to the public. Organized by the socialist grassroots organization Allt åt Alla, 30 courtyards in the neighborhood have opened up their doors to the public gaze. A map of the neighborhood shows that the majority of courtyards are hosting flea markets, although there are some outliers, like one courtyard serving “vegan Danish pastries” and another selling “home-made eco-smart products.”
The juxtaposition of ethnicities and their locality in Möllan becomes striking during “Öppna Möllan.” Walking from courtyard to courtyard engulfs us in the public fabric of the neighborhood. The streets offer the sound of dog paws on asphalt mixed with the sounds of foreign languages, the smell of car pollution mixed with the sizzling steam of shawarma shacks, and the visual mix of beer breweries nestled in-between stores whose names are made up of letters that are unfamiliar to me. Entering each courtyard becomes like a portal into a different world, especially as the entrance physically manifests as a rite of passage. The courtyard entrances are anonymous from the street, today only noticeable because of signage and propped-up doors. They lead you through dark and narrow corridors and out into bright courtyards, lusciously green of trees and shrubbery; an oasis of calm in the midst of the chaos of urban reality; like an escape from car idling and the hyper-awareness of the busy and bustling city.
One of my favorite courtyards of the day is located behind Simrishamnsgatan. We enter through a half-open door to enter into a corridor that is half brick and half cream-colored. Inside, the air becomes damper and colder, the sunlight at the end of the corridor immediately appealing. The upper cream-colored part of the corridor wall shows reliefs of pre-industrial working people: tailors, blacksmiths, and shoemakers. Much like Arbetets Ära, these reliefs are a nod to Möllan’s working class history. In combination with the retro color scheme, they become a hint of the passage of time and the historic stoicism of the building. Exiting the corridor to enter the courtyard feels like letting out a deep breath. The surrounding walls are a beautifully warm orange, complete with hollyhocks climbing up the walls. The courtyard is small enough to feel intimate but big enough to not feel cluttered and claustrophobic, despite the presence of flea market tables, other people, and the dozens of bikes that are parked around the edges. We immerse ourselves in the sounds of bargaining, coffee slurping, and children saying goodbye to their old toys. I buy a blazer with corduroy details, perfect to shield my t-shirt arms from the brisky winds; we eat a cinnamon bun, enjoy the sun, and people-watch for a little while. The air is just chilly enough to feel like autumn, but the sun is still strong enough to encourage bare skin. Both are prime conditions for flea markets – you are cold enough to want to buy a sweater or jacket to warm you up now (and prepare for the cold to come) but warm enough to want to stay outside and seize the day. The thought of this makes me happy, as if I’m feeding into the collective joy that is to be found in an unmentioned tradition.
This is the first time that I’ve really experienced Möllan in this way. Previously, I’ve either been visiting friends inside the apartments or have simply just occupied public spaces, such as the neighborhood streets and the Möllevång Square. Today, we are allowed into the in-between: the courtyard, a private yet collective sphere that today is open to the public. I’ve never lived in an apartment that has had an enclosed courtyard before. They feel cozy and special; like a shield from the urban gaze nestled right into the urban fabric. In a way, they remind me of the morning encounter I had with the two pigeons who were busy building a home. They had created their own nook on a steel beam in one of the most public places in Lund, yet their living arrangements were shielded away from the public urban gaze, as we could only seem them from below. I guess, if you’re a bird, you could see the pile of sticks, but it’d still require moving around and identifying the correct anonymous steel beam; plus, the pigeon male would probably chase you away if you came close anyway. I ponder this as we make our way back towards the train station, thrown back into the act of jaywalking and the sound of dinging bicycle bells – but now with an added calm… and a new corduroy blazer, two board games, a coffee table, and a huge locally-grown cauliflower.
Malmö is as lively as always. We get off at Triangeln and make our way to the Möllan neighborhood and the Möllevång Square, where the daily farmer’s market is in full swing. The bicker of market stands and the gentle pinching of fruit; have three cucumbers for $1, take an avocado for free – now is the time to buy pomelos! We breeze through the smell of fresh chanterelles and dialogues smoothly switching between Arabic and Swedish, to be met by Arbetets Ära standing heavy on its pedestal. Erected in 1931, Axel Ebbe’s statue is a nod towards Möllan’s industrial past and a celebration of the 19th century labor movement that started on the square. Foregrounding the market, the statue becomes a reminder of why I like Malmö so much: the mixing of peoples and the conjoining of faiths, the hefty presence of history and the constant focus on the collective.
Fittingly enough, we find ourselves in Malmö to join “Öppna Möllan,” a full-day event where Möllan opens up its private courtyards to the public. Organized by the socialist grassroots organization Allt åt Alla, 30 courtyards in the neighborhood have opened up their doors to the public gaze. A map of the neighborhood shows that the majority of courtyards are hosting flea markets, although there are some outliers, like one courtyard serving “vegan Danish pastries” and another selling “home-made eco-smart products.”
Figure 1. Map of Möllan, designed by Allt Åt Alla.Marked in black is how we moved around the neighborhood; the purple circles
show the Möllan Square and my favorite courtyard (no. 3). The text underscored
in purple highlight the courtyards selling eco-smart products and vegan danish
pastries.
The annoyingly descriptive
captions of the goods sold at these two courtyards seem far-off from the atmosphere
of the Möllevång Square, where most vendors are immigrants fluent in several
different languages and where prices are cheap and conventional. Yet, they are
a good reminder of what Möllan has become: a gentrified hipster-paradise;
diverse enough to be fun and “exotic,” but not diverse enough to be as “scary”
and “dangerous” as other Malmö neighborhoods, like Rosengård. Clearly, these courtyards
know their new audience; and sure enough, while we make our way through the
map, most people we encounter are young and white-passing. I wonder if this is
the reason Aleksander and I find ourselves in the same location today. I know
Möllan as the best place to go for good and cheap food; as home to the only
three Asian grocery stores in Malmö, as well as to over 30 falafel places, 11
Indian restaurants, and a congregation of South Asian cuisine. Most commerce is
run by immigrants; yet, the people I know who live in Möllan are all white. The juxtaposition of ethnicities and their locality in Möllan becomes striking during “Öppna Möllan.” Walking from courtyard to courtyard engulfs us in the public fabric of the neighborhood. The streets offer the sound of dog paws on asphalt mixed with the sounds of foreign languages, the smell of car pollution mixed with the sizzling steam of shawarma shacks, and the visual mix of beer breweries nestled in-between stores whose names are made up of letters that are unfamiliar to me. Entering each courtyard becomes like a portal into a different world, especially as the entrance physically manifests as a rite of passage. The courtyard entrances are anonymous from the street, today only noticeable because of signage and propped-up doors. They lead you through dark and narrow corridors and out into bright courtyards, lusciously green of trees and shrubbery; an oasis of calm in the midst of the chaos of urban reality; like an escape from car idling and the hyper-awareness of the busy and bustling city.
One of my favorite courtyards of the day is located behind Simrishamnsgatan. We enter through a half-open door to enter into a corridor that is half brick and half cream-colored. Inside, the air becomes damper and colder, the sunlight at the end of the corridor immediately appealing. The upper cream-colored part of the corridor wall shows reliefs of pre-industrial working people: tailors, blacksmiths, and shoemakers. Much like Arbetets Ära, these reliefs are a nod to Möllan’s working class history. In combination with the retro color scheme, they become a hint of the passage of time and the historic stoicism of the building. Exiting the corridor to enter the courtyard feels like letting out a deep breath. The surrounding walls are a beautifully warm orange, complete with hollyhocks climbing up the walls. The courtyard is small enough to feel intimate but big enough to not feel cluttered and claustrophobic, despite the presence of flea market tables, other people, and the dozens of bikes that are parked around the edges. We immerse ourselves in the sounds of bargaining, coffee slurping, and children saying goodbye to their old toys. I buy a blazer with corduroy details, perfect to shield my t-shirt arms from the brisky winds; we eat a cinnamon bun, enjoy the sun, and people-watch for a little while. The air is just chilly enough to feel like autumn, but the sun is still strong enough to encourage bare skin. Both are prime conditions for flea markets – you are cold enough to want to buy a sweater or jacket to warm you up now (and prepare for the cold to come) but warm enough to want to stay outside and seize the day. The thought of this makes me happy, as if I’m feeding into the collective joy that is to be found in an unmentioned tradition.
This is the first time that I’ve really experienced Möllan in this way. Previously, I’ve either been visiting friends inside the apartments or have simply just occupied public spaces, such as the neighborhood streets and the Möllevång Square. Today, we are allowed into the in-between: the courtyard, a private yet collective sphere that today is open to the public. I’ve never lived in an apartment that has had an enclosed courtyard before. They feel cozy and special; like a shield from the urban gaze nestled right into the urban fabric. In a way, they remind me of the morning encounter I had with the two pigeons who were busy building a home. They had created their own nook on a steel beam in one of the most public places in Lund, yet their living arrangements were shielded away from the public urban gaze, as we could only seem them from below. I guess, if you’re a bird, you could see the pile of sticks, but it’d still require moving around and identifying the correct anonymous steel beam; plus, the pigeon male would probably chase you away if you came close anyway. I ponder this as we make our way back towards the train station, thrown back into the act of jaywalking and the sound of dinging bicycle bells – but now with an added calm… and a new corduroy blazer, two board games, a coffee table, and a huge locally-grown cauliflower.