[Getaway House photo by Åke E:son Lindman]
In December, BUILD sat down with Ola Rune from Claesson Koivisto Rune at his Stockholm studio to discuss Scandinavian design, thinking at all scales, and knowing when to turn down a project.
The work of Claesson Koivisto Rune is often described as minimalism, but after experiencing some of your projects in person, I don’t think that term fully captures it. While the forms and spaces are simple, the materials themselves are rich with color, texture, and variation.
It’s easy to label it as minimalism because we reduce everything we can to start a project. But then we add layers to make the architecture come alive.
[Nobis Hotel Lobby photo by Louise Billgert]
The interiors at Hotel Nobis are a good example. You might say the bar is just a simple plane in elevation, but the material is backlit alabaster stone, which glows with color, veining, and variation in light. The ceiling is a collection of gilded mirrors arranged into different planes.
We wanted to create a sense of luxury at Hotel Nobis. Although the bar is a small space, the materials and the pattern of gilded mirrors make the space feel comfortable and, at the same time, larger than it actually is.
In many ways, we can’t escape who we are. While modern Sweden has a culture of economy in expression and reduction, it also has a long history of craftsmanship and rich detailing. This is evident in traditional interiors with ornamental carved wood trims and cove moldings. This design history isn’t exactly baroque, but it’s certainly influenced by the French, as Sweden inherited its king and queen from France in the early 1800s. This brought French craftsmanship and skills, though they used less exotic materials. Instead of mahogany, indigenous materials like pine, spruce, and birch were used in simpler ways, creating a design culture of reduction — always doing a little less.
Who do you and your business partners, Mårten Claesson and Eero Koivisto, look to for inspiration?
We’re inspired by fellow architects with a similar approach — modernists who understand a certain culture but execute the design in their own way, like Luis Barragán, John Pawson, and Peter Zumthor.
You studied at the Royal Academy of Copenhagen. Are there aspects of designing that you brought back from Denmark that aren’t inherently Swedish?
The Danes are extremely skilled at how things are joined together, and you can see this in Danish furniture. There is a great deal of engineering in the craftsmanship, and it’s this attention to detail that I brought back with me.
[Lunaria Table photo courtesy of DUX]
Nordic architecture has received a great deal of attention over the last decade. How has your interpretation of Scandinavian design evolved over your career?
From the 1930s to the 1950s, the Finns had Alvar Aalto, and as a designer, you had to relate to him in some way — regardless of your own design philosophy. Aalto’s work had to be considered. Later, in the 1950s and 1960s, the Danes became the grand masters of design with figures like Jacobsen, Wegner, and Utzon. At that time, Danish design was globally recognized. It wasn’t until the 1990s that Swedish design became internationally known. Now, Swedish companies are more international, and there is a stronger focus on designing and conducting business on the global stage. Since Sweden doesn’t have a history of internationally renowned modern designers, I believe we tend to look more toward the future than other Scandinavian countries.
[Left: Operakällaren Restaurant photo by Åke E:son Lindman. Right: Hotel Skeppsholmen photo by Louise Billgert]
Many design firms have to work for years — even decades — before clients start seeking them out for a particular design philosophy. Was this the case for your practice?
Clients were initially hesitant about our designs because they thought they were too austere or too strange. However, after completing a few Stockholm-based projects like the Operakällaren restaurant at the Opera House, Hotel Nobis, and Hotel Skeppsholmen, we proved we weren’t something to be afraid of. Ironically, clients now sometimes ask us to recreate designs from previous projects, which we politely decline.
Which of your projects do you recommend visiting in Stockholm?
I recommend visiting Portal, a small bar in Vasastan, St.Eriksplan neighborhood. We worked with artist Jesper Waldersten, who painted the murals on the ceiling, which have become a signature of the space.
[Portal Bar photo by Åke E:son Lindman ]
Talk about your decision to work at such a wide range of scales in design.
We always want to take on design challenges we haven’t faced before. We want to continue evolving, and maybe that’s what has kept us thriving all this time. Designing everything from small objects like glasses and chairs to large-scale projects like buildings and campuses — and handling all the details each scale involves — keeps the process fresh. It can be challenging, but if Arne Jacobsen could do it, why can’t we? It may have taken the three of us longer to build a career out of it, and sometimes we feel it’s a foolish path, but in the long run, it’s made us happy as architects and designers. It keeps us curious and searching for the unique essence of each project.
[Midsummer glass series photo courtesy of Orrefors]
Do you find that you have to switch mental gears when working at these wildly different scales?
Our architectural and planning projects require a mindset focused on the analysis of place, siting, and program, while the design of objects relates more to the history of the company we’re designing for and any brief they give us. All three partners are involved in most projects, regardless of scale. However, it’s typical that only one partner meets with the client. Having multiple partners meet with the client can become confusing. Once a project moves into design development, the lead partner continues the project with their team of staff members.
With so much of your knowledge applied to designing objects for mass production, what are your thoughts on prefabricated, reproducible housing? Why has the architectural world struggled to make mass-produced housing successful?
We’ve designed three different prefabricated housing prototypes, and the concept doesn’t quite work. People who can afford to have a home designed by an architect typically want something unique — something no one else has. Even Frank Lloyd Wright didn’t succeed with his Usonian house designs for the same reason.
Do you think the challenge is architectural, or is it a psychological issue with the consumer?
I think it’s more psychological than architectural because there are many nice prototype house designs out there. People would love these designs if they understood them better.
How is it that people are willing to buy a predesigned, mass-produced car but are reluctant to do the same with a house?
It’s an impossible question to answer. Most people couldn’t tell you the color of the interior of their car’s roof, but when it comes to their house, the psychology of customization becomes much more important.
How do you know when to turn a project down?
The first red flag for us is when a project is political. The second is when a client wants us to recreate something we’ve already done. Sometimes we agree to a project but later realize we can’t evolve the design with that particular client. We have to be careful with those situations because they consume a lot of our studio’s focus.
Has your firm decided how it will work with Artificial Intelligence in the future?
Yes, we’ve discussed this. The other partners and I come from backgrounds where we learned to draw and make models by hand. As long as we can maintain control over the technology, I believe we’ll find a productive balance. We’re not afraid of AI but it’s important for us as a team to discern what is true and what is fake. There is already so much fiction in social media and efforts to control what we think. As a team, we feel the need to talk about this evolution and train ourselves to deal with it appropriately.
What are you most proud of as a design firm?
I’m most proud of our ability to succeed with three owners for so long. We’ve been able to evolve as a firm, expand internationally, and maintain a healthy partnership.
Ola Rune is one of the founders of the design studio Claesson Koivisto Rune, founded in 1995 and known internationally for both its interior architecture as well as furniture and objects. He was educated at Konstfack University College of Arts, Crafts and Design, in Stockholm, the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts, in Copenhagen, and Southwark College of Art and Design, in London. He founded Claesson Koivisto Rune with Mårten Claesson and Eero Koivisto in 1995.
[Portrait by Espen Grønli]