Opinion / Nolan Giles
History repeated
One joy of writing about architecture is spending time in beautiful old buildings and imagining what life there would have been like when they were new. Step into a great 1950s modernist tower in New York, for example, and you can envisage slick-haired businessmen dashing to lifts in sharp suits. Or order a cocktail at Singapore’s 1887 Raffles Long Bar and your imaginary drinking companions meander around the teak-adorned space in a haze of cigar smoke; the women using fans to keep cool and wearing flowing gowns.
However, playing this game last week on a trip to Stockholm I came a little unstuck while exploring an unheralded design movement from the early 1920s: Swedish Grace. The resulting work includes buildings such as Stockholm Concert Hall (pictured), where oddly elongated columns cast slender shadows on ornate cast-iron gates, and the Kungstornen skyscrapers, where stone entrance archways have been carved into shapely statues of half-naked men, seemingly bearing the weight of these hefty buildings. With a sprinkle of art nouveau, inspiration from the antiquities and the clean lines of early modernism, these exuberant works are hardly what you expect from a nation known for pragmatism, thriftiness and lovely red-timber buildings.
But Swedish Grace comes from a unique moment, as Cilla Robach, first curator at Stockholm’s National Museum, explains. She says that as the nation emerged from the First World War and the Spanish flu, wealthy companies and the country’s government empowered creatives to dream up a “new design for a new society”.
An extensive exhibition at the museum next year, that Robach is curating, will highlight Swedish Grace and the era into which it was born – when women became liberated, Greta Garbo starred on the big screen and architects and artists worked alongside artisans to create these joyful designs. “It was about investment in taking care of the details,” says Robach. “These sculptures and buildings made people happy.” She notes that, 100 years on, there are many similarities to now and we should consider taking inspiration from Swedish Grace when designing our own future. “When nightclubs reopened here [after pandemic-enforced closures], my son queued for 10 hours to dance for eight hours. The feeling from that time is most certainly one we can recognise again today.”