Page 1



T o m a s L a u r i

Model s:

M i t e k , p. 33, 114–116, 218, 220

T e x t:

H a n s I b e l i n g s , o l i v i e r n a m i a s , T o m a s L a u r i

3d im a ge s:

A r k l a b , p. 212, p. 214

T r a n s l at i o n :

john kr ause, robyn de jong-dal ziel,

C a d w a l k , p. 215

3 1 t r a d u c t i o n s - p a r i s

C a p a b , p. 158, 161

G u n n a r H i l d é n , p. 111, 113, 216

G r a p h i c d e s i g n :

N i l l e S v e n s s o n , w w w. n i l l e s v e n s s o n . c o m

Ph o t o s :

A n n a - L e n a Ah l s t r ö m p. 206–207

Å k e E : s o n L i n d m a n , p. 22–25, 31, 70–73, 76–79, 215


9 7 8 - 9 1- 8 5 6 8 9 - 3 5 - 4

J o h a n F o w e l i n p. 92–94, 166–167, 175, 178–183

Å k e G u n n a r s s o n , p. 214

P u b l i s h e d i n 2 0 11 b y: A r v i n i u s F ö r l a g AB

M at s J a k o b s s o n , p. 116

B o x 6 0 4 0

B j ö r n L o f t e r u d , p. 203, 216–217

10 2 3 1 s t o c k h o l m

X e n i a N i k o l s k aya , p. 132–133, 211

S w e d e n

M i ch a e l P e r l m u t t e r , p. 215

T e l . + 4 6 ( 0 ) 8 3 2 0 0 15

M a x P l u n g e r , p. 84–85, 88–89, 185–186, 189–191, 218–219

F a x . + 4 6 ( 0 8 ) 3 2 0 0 9 5

M a r t i n S k o o g , p. 188


T o r d - R i k a r d S ö d e r s t r ö m , p. 122–123, 214, 216

w w w. a r v i n i u s . s e

All other photos:

A d a m M Ø r k


interview sparsaMHeten

5 12



stora katrineberg




broCkHoles wetland MuseuM


karlsson Friggebod




villa vy










international Centre


kallbadHuset oCH karantÄnen


vÄllingby town Centre


vallentuna town Centre


building bloCks


Munksjö industrial area


örebro university CaMpus


vÄllingby parkstad




west Cork arts Center


a 02


MarieHÄll sCHool




villa 1.0




in situ


velvet revolution




distinCtions and noMinations











How did you come to start doing architecture together? Stefan Sjöberg: We were employed in the same office, but we had never worked together before we did an international competition in 1997 for the housing exposition BO01 in Malmö. That’s how it started. Can your win in that competition and your decision to start your own firm be seen as a revolt against the architecture scene in Sweden in the mid-1990s? Stefan: Architecture in Sweden didn’t seem particularly vibrant to us back then. It was dominated by a clear neo-modernism, or neo-functionalism. Today, we think what we did for the Bo01 competition was a little incoherent, but it worked at the time and it made a statement. It helped us to formulate some of our basic ideas about how to handle a building volume with a complex internal spatial structure and the question of the façade as wrapping. Not to mention the role of materials. One of the reasons it worked for us, and has continued to do so, is the attitude we share. We probably got some of that from punk music; growing up in the late 70s. Bands like the Clash were picking up guitars without really knowing how to use them. It’s possible to try and to create good things without being fully trained from the beginning. We’re always testing things, with total commitment and great frenzy. We educate ourselves by doing projects. It´s about an attitude to what you are doing and mutual ideas on how to influence society in a certain direction. I have come to understand that you’re not particularly similar in your manner. Does that show in your work? Stefan: Ola has always been incredibly quick with drawings and sketches and I’m slightly more methodical and slower. We’ve learned how to put it all together, how to make use of and complement each other. Ola Kjellander: We almost always start with a discussion to give us a shared understanding of the project. I want to start testing the ideas we come up with pretty quickly. Stefan turns the ideas inside out, takes them apart, before making any concrete decisions. It sounds like you have well-defined roles in your collaboration. Is that right? Stefan: It’s not that I analyze and Ola sketches. It’s more that we’re two people who complement each other, who can have a dialogue about architecture. It’s always the case that we do

the first scheme together. Then we just have different ways of continuing on from there. How do you decide what’s important? Stefan: A crucial part is that we make an observation in each project that gives us something to go on, and we let that guide the process. When that observation comes to us varies from one project to another. Sometimes it happens instantly, sometimes a little bit into the project. That means no process is exactly like any other. Ola: And then a lot of it is about researching the project conditions, gathering the relevant facts. We see this as research. Gathering facts is research, not just studying the precedents, looking for references, or the building program. Facts are sketching, building models and testing hypotheses — identifying the conditions that are important, which conditions you can change and which ones you just have to accept. In short, determining how much room we have to manoeuvre. How do you conduct your studies in practice? Ola:

We do a lot of work with 3D models or physical models to help us determine what works. 3D because it’s quick and convenient; physical models because they force you to abstract things in a way that’s good; you see the main features in the project. Stefan: There’s often a deep-seated urge to choose a functional, rational plan over three-dimensional complexity. But it’s important to us to be able to justify how the design was generated. We don’t use 3D just in order to generate form. Two-dimensional answers are also relevant for certain aspects. Parallel with the model investigation, we produce drawings, sections and plans. Going back and forth between different media is a way of getting perspective and helps us make a correct analysis. You talk about an observation you make in each project. Is this observation the same in every project? Can you tell if you find the same things to go on in different projects? Stefan: Most projects are specific. The conditions are different, and that’s the basis of each project. But we also always try to develop those conditions—take them a step further and to concentrate them, to extract meaningful assessment criteria. That strengthens the project-specific aspects. Like in Stora Katrineberg: it’s an infill project. The plot is deep.



It was zoned for an office building. A conventional solution would have been some form of courtyard, or a U shape. But it turned out to be hard to work out the stairwells and still have enough floor space to justify the investment. So instead a deep residential building turned into an interesting problem to solve. After that, the project has simply been the result of that observation. That’s why there are lines of sight through the building, external access corridors, terraces, and so forth. Our project in Järvafältet is also tied to an observation, but one of another type. The idea of expanding the program to a larger social context was already there from the beginning in our scheme. Our conclusion was that the project primarily was about cross-connections, contacts, and animated paths, places where people could gather, work, and live. Instead of filling up Järvafältet with buildings, we were going to build a connection —an opening into the area. The form of the buildings we designed in Rinkeby, where [highway] E18 is

planned to be covered over, is a direct consequence of that observation. They stretch out toward the field. In the big green slope between the field and Rinkeby where buildings stand, we’ve added programs that weren’t included in the brief. These are related to the community, like sports and education. You have said that you consciously avoid the direct and the obvious in architecture. Why? Stefan: Architecture is very much an art that happens on location every day. You live in an area, you work in a building, or just pass by a building every day. Therefore, we think architecture must have more than one expression or reading. We try to make buildings you discover over the course of time. In a review of Länsrådet, the writer pointed out that it has a clear form but that the project still cannot be read immediately. That was well put. For us the primary objective was not to group these row houses like an archetypical ring. Instead,


the goal was the spaces they form in their surroundings, in the context. We studied a long section that starts with the rocky outcropping behind the buildings, extends through the inner courtyards of the buildings, across the public road, and continues on the front side into the Woodland Cemetery west of the buildings. The round forms help create a common courtyard and makes the buildings recede with less impact from the Woodland Cemetery. In addition, we have individualized every housing unit. There are roof dormers and articulated entrances. We chose a fenestration that lets each unit be visible. You could sum all this up by saying that the form solves a problem. But it only works at a larger scale. It’s not particularly relevant when you get up close, when you inhabit the space. From there you’ve got to have other active elements. How does good architecture work for you? Stefan: One of the things that’s always been very important for us is how materials and details are executed and what meaning they are attached with. Our starting point is usually industrial, because that’s how buildings are made today in Sweden, but we try to achieve a feeling of craftsmanship in the construction. You have to look closely at how the materials are put together and how precisely they are used. How can the industrialized process be bent and stretched in order to achieve a unique result? Ola: We can be fascinated by architects that come up with fantastic structural solutions, but that never turns out to be as important as the presence you feel when materials are used in an interesting way. It’s like a burning that goes right to the senses. Stefan: I think that at a fundamental level it has to do with the architectural tradition, the culture we come from. Sigurd Lewerentz was after all a Swedish architect. This doesn’t mean we’re not interested in structures—on the contrary. We always try to arrive at a structural solution that has clarity and agrees with the site or the program. A structuring idea or a system of structures ... But we can never avoid the question, how do we proceed with the rest of the physical presence of a building, with the materials? We’re never satisfied with an extreme or overly explicit structure or form. It goes back to what we said about directness. Projects are much more interesting when they are indirect, when they can be read in different ways, when they’re built up of several layers and levels.

Is it true that much of the character in your architecture lies in the way you make use of the details? Stefan: We tend to try to use details and materials in a projectspecific way. I see the materials as a way of articulating the idea of the building. Ola: That reminds me of a conversation we had recently about the Fredriksdal project. We were asked to change to a different façade material. Our answer was that it wouldn’t work— that if we did, we’d have to start over from the beginning, design a different building. We’re talking about a building designed not only to be clad in slate, but to be made of slate, there´s a difference there. Stefan: For us it’s always the case that the building changes with the material. Ola: Fundamentally it’s a question of expression. But not only that. Because of the fact that we start working with materials early in the project, it’s also a technical question. If we had switched to stucco in the Fredriksdal project, we would have had physical problems dealing with the balcony spaces. We would have been forced to switch to attached balconies, to give up the integrated ones. That would have made a big difference. We chose slate so that we could wrap the building in it, not divide it up. What you’re saying about materials is something architects talk a lot about. Materials should be durable, eternal and authentic. Is that necessary? Stefan: Actually, there aren’t any materials that don’t age. Even brick needs to be cleaned and repaired if it’s going to last. What’s interesting is to think of what happens over time, what that aging looks like. That’s why we like the more primitive and robust. Ola: Rugged things do better over time. If you compare them with the smooth and shiny surfaces you see so much of in commercial architecture—in boutiques, shopping malls, and so forth—they have a completely different life cycle. Visually assertive, designed sheds built with tremendous speed; that deteriorate quickly. A kind of commercial flash in the pan, that kind of architecture doesn’t do much for us. Stefan: I’d like to address the concept of scale in that context. Lots of materials can work in pictures and at a distance. But you also have to be able to come up close to a building, to touch and feel it. Genuine materials can be perceived in different ways at different distances. It’s always good to have smallscale articulation in the details and the program. The large


scale helps you orient yourself and creates clarity, but it’s the smaller scale that we really inhabit. You can’t overlook that as an architect. How can you translate the old craftsman traditions to contemporary industrial construction methods? Stefan: It’s about presence. Everything doesn’t have to be exclusive to be good. It’s like with clothing. Even with a less expensive piece, it can be those two well placed seams that go right across the front that make it great. It’s much better to have a railing that’s rough and irregular, so you can tell someone has made it, than one that’s straight and minimal. Ola: You also have to build an understanding of the possibilities you have in each project. A hand-forged railing can be interesting, but it’s not always possible in a rational construction process. For residential work you have to think of how components are joined together and leave some parts just raw. Let’s take Sparsamheten as an example. There we’ve thought through a whole series of concepts like that. It’s an area close to the Woodland Cemetery. We went around and studied what Lewerentz and Asplund had done there and thought through how we could transfer that to an industrialized housing construction process. I’m sure you could do it in a number of different ways. But in this case we focused on seeing a sequence of different spaces. To see every space. Like the space you perceive when you’re standing at the front door, which is built of many details. The bronze sheet metal, the texture of the wood siding, and the glass door are all results of that. I feel safe in saying you rarely do white stuccoed buildings. Why is that? Stefan: We can’t see what’s interesting about white stucco as a material. White stucco is loaded down by historical references—it has too much to do with Functionalism. The pure expression. You can get around that by doing an expressive structure, but for us, there’s still the fact that a color and a material convey a message. Ola: We think there are other things we can learn from Functionalism than the striving for purity. That era had a level of detailing that was fantastic. There was a human presence in the details. When you touch a railing, you can tell it was designed to feel good in your hand. Or take a seat that’s been integrated into a wall in a smart way. The level of detailing made modernist stucco architecture human. It

usually disappears in rational prefabricated construction, leaving only the appearance. How do you see your black buildings? What message do they convey? Stefan: We have talked about the apartment building in Liljeholmen, which fills in a gap between two buildings, as a pause in the streetscape. In other projects, like in Länsrådet, you might say the color dissolves, blends together with the dark places in the natural world, becomes part of it—part of the shadows. If you do white buildings in nature, they stand out. They accentuate the difference between buildings and nature. The buildings are objectified. That’s not something we want to do. We think it’s more interesting when building and nature blend together, when it’s not entirely clear where one ends and the other begins, when a building and its surroundings are woven together. We think that ambiguity is often a good thing. Besides the focus on material selection, there’s another thing I often think of in your projects: that you’re seldom satisfied with just resolving the program, and that you’re not afraid to rewrite it. Why is that? Stefan: We would say that we sometimes reformulate the brief, to include crucial aspects that were left out. I think what you’re asking about goes back to a social dimension that we appreciate. In several of our projects, we have created a complementary zone in-between the building and the landscape or the context. The zone is a private enterprise, a part of the building, but also a way to offer something back to the city, to make a public space. Take, for example, the bath in Helsingborg, which is pretty simple in its form, but the surrounding landscape is almost exaggeratedly designed. We would say it´s programmed for different public activities. Our proposals for Rinkeby and Lindholmen are two other examples. In Rinkeby we have various community functions located in the base of the proposed development. The project also spans over the E18 highway and connects the suburb of Rinkeby with Järvafältet. It creates a bridge, making one of Stockholm’s best recreational areas accessible for an entire neighborhood. In Lindholmen we envisioned that all street levels of the urban blocks should have a public and commercial open character. Ola: In most of our projects we create an urban context that the building become part of. We design platforms, or provide the framework for urban life and activity. A building should


always be part of the city, and the city always part of the building. The point of departure is to dissolve or design the boundaries between inside and outside. But it’s about achieving more than that, not just making views out from and into the building and leaving it at that. That’s where function—usage—comes into play. We work with a fluid boundary between public and private usage. For us, it’s more of a zone with a certain depth than a clearly defined line. We build up our projects as a sequence of spaces for various uses. Some of the spaces in the building open up to the outside and some of the spaces outside find their way into the building.

Would you say what you’re trying to do is address the shortcomings in the public aspect of the community? Stefan: There’s often too much focus on large-scale organizing structures today, like where the roads should go, where schools should be established. It’s easy to forget the local environment, the glue that holds the citizenry together, what actually creates a society. That leads to many people becoming isolated, in their homes and apartments. Public life ends with a car trip to the shopping centre. Ola: We don’t really believe in this development toward increasingly private enclaves. We believe more that community is


the future, and that it always needs to be strengthened. For an architect that means daring to be active, going out and participating in society. Stefan: We see our housing developments as a means for having a discussion about public environments. Architecture is an opportunity for residents to take part in public life; a way to communicate and agree on public qualities. In Sparsamheten it’s obvious. The great room is fully glazed toward the street. The residents choose for themselves to set the boundary, to close their drapes or not. It’s about giving the residents an opportunity to interact, to oscillate between the private and the public even indoors. In the same way, the same project has a narrow pedestrian path along the back, which has made circulation in and through


the neighborhood much easier. The usual thing would have been to just forget about that pedestrian path. Sometimes we could really use a social organizer in the city planning department. Few of the people involved in a construction project dare to really discuss the spaces in between—they’re outside of everyone’s jurisdiction. And as a result, the transitions in the urban scene remain neglected. It’s self-evident, of course, that a new development changes the circumstances for its surroundings, but no one seems to have a mandate to work with that.

Lots of projects must be such that you can’t influence the context, that you just have to resolve the conditions on the given site. How do you work in those situations?


Stefan: We don’t stop being interested in the surroundings and the context. Take Liljeholmen, which is one of those projects. Proportions, geometries, and materials are about dialogue, about establishing a character that has a clear relationship to the adjacent surroundings. A black building with a lot of glass is a sharp contrast, an addition, and at the same time all of the proportions are adapted to the physical conditions of the site. For example, the building is slightly angled in the middle. That’s one way to express the fact that the street turns. Another one of these adaptations is that the corner is cut-off at the entrance portal into the courtyard on the ground floor. It’s because of the subway. I think many architects would be irritated by things like this that influence and manipulate the form. But we think it rather strengthens the aesthetic, makes it deeper. The building itself is strong enough to survive these adaptations. What do you think residents think of the fact that they have to take a stand on the public life on their street; that they have to participate? Stefan: I’d like to tie into the modern home here. It was obsessed with being representative, with showing status. But in our case, and in a lot of other contemporary architecture, the “public” parts of the home are more tied to residents’ activities. They’re not about projecting an illusion. It’s not a matter of an image, but rather something more practical. It’s good to be a part of a larger social community. It’s inviting. It’s about an integrated life cycle, about the way a building follows you during the course of your day; that you can see your kids playing outside at the same time you’re making dinner; that you can close out the world at night if you want to. A building that follows a rhythm, you could say, and not just this easy chair and this living room set and this table you use when you have company. When it comes to Sparsamheten, I’d like to refer to an Italian palazzo, where the street level is completely public and dedicated to commerce and business meetings. And then the family lives up above that. Ola: I can also see it as an apartment building with external corridors, just to dig up one type of scheme from the lost archives. You can pass by and participate in certain parts of the residents’ lives—not everything, but certain chosen aspects. Stefan: I guess I’d like to say that that’s just what external-corridor apartments want to be, but what they almost never

succeeded in being during the 1960s and 70s. We have a strong modernist tradition with a socially excluding element to it. I can even feel a little anxiety when I come into certain highly acclaimed apartments from the 40s and 50s. There’s a kind of blind faith among Swedish architects that the apartments from that era are fantastic, that the quality in them is eternal, an ideal. I’m astonished at how static they can be. They speak of one thing, of a correct way of living—one way to move, one way to cook, etc. It’s hardly a timeless ideal. Those solutions just tell us how people lived then and that lifestyles change over time, that homes can’t be tailored to suit them. From what you’re saying, I get the impression you’re against designing rooms based on their intended function. But your rooms are seldom generic. They’re not made for every type of activity. I would describe them as interactive. Do you agree? Stefan: We’re not interested in locking in the use of each room. At the same time, though, rooms that are too generic are uninteresting. Ola: It’s about encouraging people to use them. We usually imagine several different functions; different possible ways a room could be used now and over time. A level of flexibility. Your rooms can be made up of several spaces in one. Why? Ola:

The boundaries between rooms seldom need to be definitive. They can be fluid. In one big great room, like on the ground floor of Sparsamheten, you have several rooms in one. Three different functional zones: the kitchen facing the street, the living room toward the courtyard, and then one space in between them that can be closed off with draperies. Several different activities can go on at the same time. Three parts with different attributes. But they are not functionally determinate. For example, the kitchen has space for an island on wheels. It can just be moved whenever necessary.

How do you know the solutions you come up with won’t be considered excluding in just ten years? Ola:

Well you can’t possibly know that. But I believe there’s a pretty big difference between dictating exactly how different functions are to be done and drawing different social spaces, more or less private or shared, that are not clearly programmed by function. People’s need for socializing and for privacy is not going to go away. These are social attributes of a more eternal nature.




B O R N 2 7 F E B R U A R Y 19 67 I N K A R L S H A M N

B O R N 12 M A R C H 19 74 I N H E L S I N K I

Education University of Oregon, School of Architecture and Allied Arts, USA 1989–91 Royal Institute of Technology, School of Architecture, Stockholm 1991–96 Experience Arken Arkitekter, Stockholm, 1992 Architektürbüro Jan Kleihues, Berlin, 1994 Rotstein Arkitektkontor, Stockholm, 1996–98 Kjellander + Sjöberg Arkitektkontor, 1998– Other Swedish Association of Architects, member of the jury for architectural competitions Royal Institute of Technology, visiting lecturer, critic and teacher

Education Royal Institute of Technology, School of Architecture, Stockholm, 1992–98 Edinburgh College of Art, School of Architecture, Scotland, 1995–96 Royal Institute of Art, Art & Architecture, Stockholm, 2003 Experience Ateljé Pontvik Arkitektkontor, Stockholm, 1997 Claes Kock Arkitekter, Stockholm, 1998–2000 Kjellander + Sjöberg Arkitektkontor, 2000–




B O R N 16 M AY 19 67 I N Ä N G E L H O L M

B O R N 17 M AY 19 7 7 I N E S K I L S T U N A

Education Portsmouth University, School of Architecture, England, 1989–90 Chalmers University of Technology, School of Architecture, Gothenburg, 1990–94 Experience Berg Arkitektkontor, Stockholm, 1986–90 Rotstein Arkitektkontor, Stockholm, 1994–98 Kjellander + Sjöberg Arkitektkontor, 1998– Other Swedish Association of Architects, board of directors, 2005–09 Stockholms Arkitektförening, Competition Committee member, 2003–04 Swedish Association of Architects, member of ArkitektService Reference Group, 2001–04 Swedish Association of Architects, member of the jury for architectural competitions Royal Institute of Technology, visiting lecturer, critic and teacher

Education Royal Institute of Technology, School of Architecture, Stockholm, 1997–2004 Delft University of Technology, Delft, 2001–02 Experience Korteknie Stuhlmacher Architecten, Rotterdam, 2002–03 Shigeru Ban Architects, Tokyo, 2006 Kjellander + Sjöberg Arkitektkontor, 2005–



2011 Sverre, housing block, Uppsala, invited competition, awarded first prize. 2010 Stora Katrineberg, housing, Stockholm, nominated to Stockholm Building of the Year 2010 by the Department of Urban Planning, City of Stockholm. 2010 Sparsamheten housing, Stockholm, nominated to Stockholm Building of the Year 2010 by the Department of Urban Planning, City of Stockholm. 2010 Länsrådet, housing, Stockholm, nominated by the jury to Rödfärgspriset 2010. 2009 Barnhusbron, Stockholm, urban development competition arranged by Fastighetsägarna Stockholm in collaboration with the newspaper Metro, awarded first prize by a vote of Stockholm readers. 2009 Torget, residential development, Norrköping, invited architectural competition, first prize. 2008 Rinkeby-Tensta, urban planning, Stockholm, invited competition, first prize. 2007 Brockholes Wetland Museum, Lancashire, UK, international open competition, shortlisted. 2007 Telefonfabriken block, residential development, Stockholm, invited competition, first prize. 2006 Ängsskolan, social housing and urban renewal, Botkyrka, invited competition, first prize. 2006 Strandängarna, landscape design and master plan, land use competition, Tyresö, finalist invited to second phase competition, second prize. In collaboration with Topia. 2006 Annedal block P6 (Baltic 23 and Annedalsterrassen) housing, Stockholm, invited competition, first prize. 2006 40 under 40, K+S selected by Plaza magazine as one of the forty best firms in the Nordic region led by architects under forty years of age. 2006 Sälgen, housing development, Västerås, invited competition, first prize. 2005 Villa 1.0, Lidingö, shortlisted for the Mies van der Rohe Award 2005, the European Union Prize for Contemporary Architecture. Project in collaboration with Marge Arkitekter. 2004 Enskede-Skarpnäck, development of existing town district with new housing, invited competition, first prize for two housing areas: Länsrådet and Sparsamheten. 2004 Astrakangatan, housing, Hässelby, invited competition, first prize. In collaboration with Marge Arkitekter. 2004 Rödby, student housing, Kista, nominated to the Wood Award 2004, Swedish Forest Industries Federation.

2002 Nybodahöjden, conversion of existing building to row houses, Stockholm, honourable mention in the Stockholm Byggmästareförening (Builders’ Association Stockholm) Renovation Award. 2000 Rödby, student housing, Kista, land use competition, purchase and commission, City of Stockholm. 1999 H99, exhibition building for the 1999 housing expo, Helsingborg, invited competition, first prize, Svenska Boprojekt and the City of Helsingborg. 1997 BO2000, housing block for Malmö housing expo, international open competition, first prize, Svenska Boprojekt and the City of Malmö.




2010 Building Blocks, exhibition at Färgfabriken Centre for Contemporary Art, Architecture, and Society, Stockholm. 2010 Housing Models for the Future, exhibition at Belgrade International Architecture Week, BINA 2010, Belgrade, Serbia. 2010 Five Nordic Architects – Five Projects, architecture exhibition at the Stockholm Furniture Fair 2010. K+S were selected to represent Sweden with the project Stora Katrineberg. 2006 Young Swedish Architecture, a new generation of architects, exhibition at Arkitekturmuséet, the Swedish Museum of Architecture, Stockholm. 2004 Rödby, student housing, exhibition at Svensk Byggtjänst, the Swedish building Center, Stockholm. 2004 Rödby, student housing, included in the permanent collection of Arkitekturmuséet, the Swedish Museum of Architecture, Stockholm. 1999 Fallet Liljeholmen, urban planning, exhibition and workshop at Färgfabriken Centre for Contemporary Art, Architecture, and Society, Stockholm.

1998– Ola Kjellander Stefan Sjöberg Hans Spolén Amir Aman Karin Hammarskiöld Daniel Norell Mi Inkinen Natalie Stratakis Maria Svensson Joakim Leufstadius Björn Ahrenby Lena Fagle Andreas Hiller Jeanette Lundberg Malin Pappila Karl Zetterholm Lena Viterstedt Erik de Vries Leo Qvarsebo Maria Masgård Karolina Sporre Måns Tham Bernhard Maurer Ola Jonsson Patrick Wüthrich Olivia Ros-Pehrson Lena Johanson Katarina Larsdotter Leon Rost Jennifer Jacoel Sylvia Neiglick Motoko Hirose Andreas Lebisch Mimmi Wide Gustafsson Axel Freij Julia Gudiel Johannes Brattgård Fredrik Pettersson


KJELLANDER + SJÖBERG ARCHITECTS editor: toMaslauri text: Hansibelings,oliviernaMias,toMaslauri translation: joHnkrause,robyndejong-dalziel,...


KJELLANDER + SJÖBERG ARCHITECTS editor: toMaslauri text: Hansibelings,oliviernaMias,toMaslauri translation: joHnkrause,robyndejong-dalziel,...