In May, I was in Copenhagen.  I went there because I'd read about the riots that had taken place in February throughout the city when the police had moved in on squatters, most of them teenagers, and had evicted them forcibly from a youth center in Christiania.

Anarchists join Danish protesters

  Story Highlights

• Anarchists from across northern Europe flock to join protesters
• Police in Denmark brace for more violence after two nights of street clashes
• Some 188 people were arrested overnight, and more than 200 the night before
• Violence started when police evicted squatters from a downtown building

COPENHAGEN, Denmark (AP) -- Anarchists from across northern Europe flocked to join protesters in the Danish capital on Saturday after two nights of riots sparked by the eviction of squatters from an abandoned building that had been a center for young leftists and punk rockers.

More than 500 people, including scores of foreigners, have been arrested since the riots started Thursday.

Authorities said more than 200 were arrested early Saturday following overnight clashes in which demonstrators pelted police with cobblestones and set fire to cars.

Police said activists from Sweden, Norway and Germany had joined hundreds of Danish youth in the protests. Sympathy protests were held in Germany, Norway, Sweden and Finland.

The riots were sparked when an anti-terror squad on Thursday evicted the squatters from the red brick building with graffiti-covered walls. Built in 1897, it was a community theater for the labor movement and a culture and conference center; Vladimir Lenin was among its visitors. In recent years, it has hosted concerts with performers like Australian Nick Cave and Icelandic singer Bjork.

As news of the riots spread, sympathizers around Europe rallied support for the protesters. The Danes warned like-minded foreigners Saturday that the borders were tightening after two nights of clashes had turned the normally quiet streets of Copenhagen into a battle zone.

Copyright 2007 The Associated Press.

When I was there, a squad of bareheaded policemen wearing blue windbreakers walked  through the graffiti covered round arch at the corner. 

“Is it OK to go in?”  I asked one of them.

The cop smiled brightly and sincerely.  “Sure,” he said.  “Go on in.”

“And get busted,” I thought to myself.  It was the cop’s smile that was freaky. People smile so brightly and sincerely in Copenhagen that sometimes I felt I'd wandered into a set of The Stepford Wives.  I wondered if those cops didn't have anything better to do than bust a few kids smoking hash and drinking beer.

I followed the police into Christiania itself.  I looked to the left where the sloping-together metal ladders led up to the second floor and the Restaurant sign.  Out front, a few guys with lank blonde hair hanging to their shoulders were taking a break; they smiled tensely at the police, who in turn pointedly ignored them.  Past them was the flea market lot where tourists, and locals too, bought the red t-shirts with three yellow balls and the inscription "Bevar Christiania."  There was an adult-sized wooden treehouse type structure that had to be every kid’s dream – and a dozen or so seriously laidback Danes drinking Tuborgs on its upper deck.

Beyond that were structures from the former army base.  At one end of a large lot was a barn-like building that had a huge silver horn extending from its double-doored entrance.  It was actually a huge steel funnel, from whose gaping mouth emanated eerily a high pitched wail, a single piercing note of electronica that sounded like Massive Attack, or maybe Moby on baseball-quality steroids. 

Photographs weren't allowed in Christiania.  On one red brick wall, an SLR had been crudely depicted with a slashed read circle superimposed upon it.  There had too many snitches ready to take pics of hash sales going down and then turn in dealer and buyer both.  The fine was a thousand kroner. 

There's definitely a dangerous edge to Christiania.  That's what makes it real.  Inside, I heard stories of a Swedish motorcycle gang that had been selling speed and killing local dealers.  Supposedly, that was when the Dansh government decided to shut the commune down.  While I was there, I felt the threat of violence and of a bust both.  It was a lot like walking through New York's East Village and Lower East Side in the 60's.  No matter how much love and peace was in the air, there was always the sense of being on the street. A knifing or shooting could suddenly happen anywhere around me.  It was better not to be there when it came down.

I was born in Brooklyn and have lived a long time on Manhattan's Upper West Side.  My great-great-grandfather, also Frank McAdam, was famine Irish and arrived in NYC on The Star of the West in April 1848.  My family has lived in the city since. 

After I'd graduated magna cum laude from Holy Cross, a Catholic high school in Queens, I went through Fordham on full academic scholarships, both from  the university itself and from the NYS Regents.  My B.A. was in English lit.; my unofficial minor was in Asian philosophy and art history.  After I'd gotten my degree, I taught myself photography from the Time-Life series, now out of print.  Later, I took one good photography course at the School of Visual Arts (Studio Lighting taught by Bud Cannarella) and one at the New School (The Fine Print taught by George Tice). 

Besides my photography, I'm also working on a short novel – to be illustrated with my photographs and published online as it's written – heavily influenced by Japanese pinku eiga cinema. 

I've traveled in Europe and Asia.  I'm a Buddhist, and I also study Taoism and the I Ching.  I hate racism, war and violence; my heroes are Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr.

I enjoy reading good books – from Murasaki's Genji to Paul Bowles' Let it Come Down – and going to art exhibits, theater, and to hear classical music at Lincoln Center and Carnegie Hall.  But I still love the music that rocks: Velvet Underground, Bauhaus, Iggy Pop, Bowie, Massive Attack, Radiohead and The Concretes.  And the older blues/rock too – Hendrix, Cream, The Stones and, especially, The Doors.

Thank you for your interest in my work.  The photographs on this page (except for the self-portrait in the bathroom mirror immediately above) are scans of traditional black & white prints made in a wet darkroom and archivally processed.  Many of these original prints are for sale.  For more information, please Click Here

Mermaid Parade

All photos and text, except where otherwise attributed, copyright (c) 2007 - 2008 by Frank McAdam.  All rights reserved.