Wallpaper 4

our years ago, Noma clinched the
top spot on the World’s 50 Best Restaurants
list – the fourth time in half a decade it
had landed this honour. Ascending the stage
at London’s Guildhall, an exuberant
René Redzepi looked back on the remarkable
journey his Copenhagen dining room had
taken since it opened in a then-derelict area
of Christianshavn in 2003. Its menu of
local, often foraged produce, served up
on artisanal dishware in a pared-back space,
upended popular expectations of what fine
dining should be. ‘We were the geeks in the
class of fine linens and expensive wines,’
mused the head chef and co-founder. ‘And
look at where we are now, celebrated for all
the experiments. Wood sorrel conquered
caviar!’ Having made New Nordic into the
culinary movement of the decade and turned
the Danish capital into a gastronomic mecca,
Noma was assuredly the most influential
force in food since El Bulli. But in Redzepi’s
view, they were nowhere near the finish line.
Turning to his team, he continued: ‘We have
to stay there on the edge, looking for our next
move. The road is not paved in front of us,
for we want to be the ones laying the bricks.’
As it turned out, the next moves included
pop-ups in Tokyo, Sydney and Tulum, each
more wildly popular than the last, as well as
two sibling restaurants, 108 and Barr (W*220).
More importantly, there’s been bricklaying in
the literal sense, about a kilometre north-east
of the restaurant’s original address. Here, in a
sizeable strip of waterfront overlooking the
hippie enclave of Christiania, is a new home
for Noma, a place for Redzepi to press reset,
and then dream bigger than ever before.
On this plot of land is an artificial mound
once part of Copenhagen’s medieval defence
system, and underneath, a vast Second
World War-era arsenal. When Noma’s CEO,
Peter Kreiner, first stumbled upon the spot,
the arsenal was covered in graffiti, its grounds
strewn with litter. Still, he and Redzepi felt
an immediate affinity for it. ‘This was a space
where we could be close to nature,’ Kreiner

says, ‘and create this amazing new place to

live out the next chapter in Noma’s life.’ With

the aid of an investor, they bought the site

and drew up plans for its transformation.

Enter Bjarke Ingels, the boundary-busting

architect who had made his name with the

subterranean Danish Maritime Museum in

Helsingør. Ingels became friendly with

Redzepi and Kreiner after he organised the

first board meeting of his practice, BIG, at

the original Noma, so it’s no wonder he was

the first architect to come to mind for this

project. Two other practices were brought

on to offer competing proposals, but it was

BIG’s plan – a cluster of seven small buildings

forming a village that ‘breathes and lives’ –

that emerged as the clear choice. ‘The vision

relates to Christiania,’ explains Redzepi, ‘where

they build in a chaotic way that nevertheless

allows for a very enjoyable environment.’

Each building would be formed of a different

material, chosen for its specific purpose.

Intelligence

F