On either side, two titans flank the station entrance. Each one holds a luminous globe. They have become icons of Helsinki and are dressed according to events. They even had a painted mask on them when the group Kiss performed in the city. However, they are not my goal. My destination is a five-minute walk away. I am going to visit another public building of interest, which in this city is saying little, when it has works by the architect Alvar Aalto, or the collection of equipment from the 1952 Olympic Games and churches as peculiar as Temppeliaukio or the Kamppi chapel .
Oodi is even more modern. It was inaugurated in 2018. Its name was chosen from among the sixteen hundred proposed by citizens and means 'ode', a song that dates back to ancient Egypt and appears in all self-respecting literature. Plus, Oodi is easy to remember. Also its façade, although describing it is like trying to establish what would be an intergalactic ship designed by the elves. To begin with, its dimension: that of a generous, although narrower, soccer field. At the southern end it tapers into an arrogant prow. But you have to observe it from the west, on its longest side. Its lower two-thirds are covered with spruce wood boards. Above, the upper third is glazed and has a gently undulating roof. The amber wood, which is arranged vertically at the ends, in the center leans outwards until it becomes a canopy that covers the main entrance at its feet. An invitation to enter. And I go in.
I meet the reception. The same floor also has a cinema with two hundred and fifty seats, an auditorium with retractable stands, a cafe, tables to play chess...
Via an escalator, I access the second floor. Its floor plan is conditioned by the exterior canopy. The wave that it draws inside is used to arrange various stands where you can sit, read or snooze. But what draws attention is the table that stretches in the center, with sewing machines or an ironing board. It also has different printers, ink, 3D and one of industrial size that would allow color posters the size of a car to be produced. It also has meeting rooms of different sizes, to be reserved according to the needs of the public. And, in the background, a sign announces the rehearsal rooms for musicians, properly soundproofed.
And finally I access the third floor. It is occupied by an immense open-plan room, paved with light wood and surrounded by windows. The white roof undulates with the blunt softness of snow. White shelves fill the room, all within easy reach. Oodi has a collection of one hundred thousand books, which I can enjoy sitting on chairs, armchairs, sofas, lying on rugs or in the different corners provided by the same wooden floor, which rises at the ends. If I get hungry, I can order a snack from the café, which I could eat inside or on the wide balcony that extends just above the marquee, overlooking the Musiikkitalo concert hall, the austere Parliament and the setting sun.
I sit in an armchair, with succulent ergonomics. The sun, which pours in, forces me to close my eyes. And I wake up after half an hour, totally renewed and ready to attack another destination.
I have highlighted another essential service on the Katajanokka Peninsula. There rest those broad-shouldered ships, the icebreakers that keep the Baltic waterways open.
