There's something about doors. 
First it was the revolving door into the Radio House. For a little girl  eleven years old, it was huge and dangerous. 
I became a member of the Radio Girls' Choir at the age of eleven. Twice a week I had to enter through that door, pas the reception and find the choir rehearsal in time.   
There was the church door to the Sunday School, but also the door to the Dance School, where I learned steps and danced with a boy - not to mention the door to the principal's office. 
On the slopes of the Austrian Alps the door to the warmth of a small wooden hut with refreshments was by far the most attractive.   
Later it was the gateway to the Conservatory at H.C. Andersen's Boulevard in the center of Copenhagen. Here the heavy door with artfully framed windows had to be pushed up, and then the stairs must be attacked. The architecture became important with the majestic authority that harmonized perfectly with the name: The Royal Danish Academy of Music.
To begin your studies here, however, you had to squeeze yourself through a pinhole.