The Copenhagen Opera House: A Gift, Not A Gift Coupon
“This is a gift and not a gift coupon,” claims Mr. Mc-Kinney Moller’s spokesman regarding the controversy surrounding the construction of the Copenhagen Opera House.
In early 2000, Mr. Moller, who was then Denmark’s richest man, offered to donate an opera house to Copenhagen during his visit to the Queen, the Prime Minister, and the Minister of Culture. Given that this was a gift worth a few hundred million euros, it was accepted without hesitancy. “You don’t get a present like this every day,” the spokesman for the Royal Danish Theater at the time exclaimed.
The gift, however, came with a few conditions. To start off, it would be built on an island which sits right across the harbor from the queen’s residence, Amalienborg Palace. This condition is controversial as the large scale of the Opera House would make the palace look small, and the location of the project would demonstrate Mr. Moller’s ability to use his wealth to disregard democracy. According to his request, the billionaire would also exert full authority over architecture and artistic arrangements. It soon became evident that Mr. Moller would come to override all the decisions made by the architect with regards to the appearance and decor of the Opera House.
James Carrier would consider this example to be an imperfect gift, for reasons that it is binding and comes from an interested giver. But does this make the gift morally “less good”? Does Mr. Moller’s emphasis on the fact that his donation is a gift and not a gift coupon make his requests more reasonable?
The controversies around this gift got me to ask questions. What would have constituted a “perfect gift” in this situation? Should Mr. Moller have given the Opera House with no strings attached? Should the government officials who accepted this seemingly generous gift have countered his demands? Do the benefits that the new Opera House present outweigh its controversies? Whose feelings matter in this issue?
In 2016, it was announced that Mr. Moller’s company made another tens of millions of euros’ worth of donation, payable until 2020, to help keep the Royal Danish Theater running. The organization was reported to have been debilitated by the financial costs of the Opera House’s enormous heating and lighting costs. This depicts an irony of Mr. Moller’s company coming to aid an organization that it had unintentionally burdened with its grandiose gift in the first place.
The Copenhagen Opera House, as a gift, provokes many points worth noting. Did the gift signal Mr. Moller’s act of kindness, or was it simply a way for him to demonstrate his influence? Did the fact that the construction of the Opera House was tax-deductible make it less worthy of a gift? Is Mr. Moller’s intention to make the construction second to none admirable, despite the financial burdens it created? Does the difference between a gift and a gift coupon make the former more vulnerable to manipulation?
It seems that one could make an argument for every side of the debate. For a tourist who was unaware of all the “backstage drama” like me, the waterfront building is simply magnificent; it is equipped with one of the most advanced sound systems in the world. Since its opening gala, the show has hosted more than 200 performances annually, which come with considerable discounts to students and the elderly, partially thanks to Mr. Moller’s wish to make art more accessible to the public.
Yet, as the building stands still, most certainly for years to come, questions remain regarding how the Royal Danish Theater will maintain the current operating budget level of the Opera House after Mr. Moller’s donation runs out in 2020.
