Messages of hope and concern

This is the ninth year of the festival, which claims to have more exhibits than ever with the help of more sponsors than ever. In the tradition of art as an expression of ideals or social commentary, artist Alexander Reichstein has created a display several hundred meters long named “Displaced”.

In 2017, Copenhagen joined a host of other European cities having annual light festivals in the winter. According to an article from DW in 2018, Director of the Danish Light Centers Anne Bay said Copenhagen was the perfect city for a light festival.

“Copenhagen is darker than most other cities,” explained Bay. “The combination of beautiful old buildings and the thick darkness create the ideal environment…” 

That year’s light festival boasted “more than 40 light installations” and included an out-of-season opening of Tivoli Gardens to allow locals and tourists to experience their exhibit celebrating 175 years of entertainment. 

Today, the Copenhagen Light Festival has doubled in size. In the 2026 program, 94 exhibits can be found both within the city center and in far-away locales that invite further exploration and new experiences. 

Within the city, visitors can walk through 1.5 kilometers of light displays from one of Copenhagen’s many harbors to the Danish Architecture Center. Other exhibits extend almost 8 kilometers away from this route in all directions. 

Each exhibit of the 2026 festival has a story and purpose. In Vestre Cemetery, on the western outskirts of the festival area, Displaced tells a story of resilience, hope and unity.

Created by Russian-Finnish artist Alexander Reichstein, figures made of steel wire illuminated by black lights stand with their backs to the audience accompanied by a soundscape designed by Petri Laakso. Stories from real refugees can be heard alongside footsteps and the sounds of distant warfare. 

“I thought that this project might show citizens of the countries now accepting Ukrainian refugees that their own compatriots experienced the same just a couple of decades ago,” Reichstein explained, referencing the Winter War in 1939 when the Soviet Union invaded Finland.

“I just started to study the footage, photos, videos of these Ukrainian refugees…so each figure in my installation is based on an authentic photograph from this war.” 

To highlight the aspect of repeated history, Reichstein also included figures based on photographs from World War II.

“I started to mix them…with Finnish refugees from Karelia, from all these areas which had been occupied by the Soviets. And then I also added German refugees, civilians from the year 45 from the final period of the Second World War, and Soviet people from the year 41 when Hitler attacked the Soviet Union. And then adding also like French, British, Belgian, Spanish citizens, Jews from different European countries…”

Despite the array of nationalities presented in the exhibit, Reichstein admitted that it might be difficult to tell which figures represented which nations. However, this sense of ambiguity is a boon to the work as a whole. In combination with the lack of faces, Reichstein aimed to evoke empathy from visitors taking in the display. 

“People look very much the same when they are in the same situation,” explained Reichstein. “When you look at the photo of these refugees from their front, so to say, that means that you are not one of them…But if you see them from their back, this means that you are one of the crowd. You experience the same, or you might experience the same in the nearest future.” 

To enhance the sense of togetherness, Reichstein collected recorded stories of refugees from the same time periods as the steel figures. People from the Winter War, World War II, and the war in Ukraine can all be heard talking about their own displacement almost exclusively in their native languages.

For Copenhagen specifically, Reichstein included a story from a Danish Jew fleeing to Sweden during World War II who chose to speak in English. 

Reichstein’s “Displaced” completes its message with its location. In a practical sense, Vestre Cemetery is one of the darkest places in the city, allowing the exhibit’s black lights to take full effect. 

Symbolically, the cemetery is a resting place for many refugees from World War II. Many German families and soldiers fled to Denmark in the final stages of the war, and they have a dedicated section in the cemetery close to the light display. 

“Displaced” creates a social commentary that is uniquely experienced. With the help of the Copenhagen Light Festival, its message will carry to visitors throughout the month of February in a time where many people are taking up a similar path as Reichstein’s steel figures.

This story is intended for an audience in Norway and could be published by VG, a Norwegian newspaper.