“There is something about nothingness and empty spaces,” muses Niels Strøyer Christophersen as he sits with his wife Franca-Christina in the living room of their Copenhagen home.

“When you have stuffed spaces it doesn’t release the same imagination.”

Located in Copenhagen’s stylish Østerbro district, the building, which dates back to 1905, wasn’t always so sparsely decorated. It was once crammed full of springs and dials, when it housed a watchmaker and his shop. Its residents today, however, are ceramicist Franca-Christina and her husband Niels, founder and owner of multi-disciplinary design practice Frama.

Once a maker of minimalist wooden furniture and lighting, Frama is now an internationally established design studio offering skincare products, perfumes and even a charming cafe. Meanwhile Franca, who moved from New Zealand for an apprenticeship with ceramicist Eric Landon of Tortus Copenhagen, has successfully launched her own ceramics studio.

The couple’s personality permeates their home. While their creative careers run parallel, their home is collaborative. Currently, this plays out in the kitchen, where they are cooking together.
Entering their apartment, light softly settles through the floor-to-ceiling shop-style windows. You feel an immediate calm. Niels and Franca’s home presents their own perspective, and, in a greater sense, expresses a modern Scandinavian aesthetic.

The Nordic design mantra evokes form following function. It values the importance of humanity, emotional warmth and socially-minded inclusivity – all threads that run through this home and the practices of its owners.

Over a cup of coffee, Niels notes that his journey with Frama has been completely organic. “That is also the beauty of it, as it goes by intuition and passion, then when you meet people it takes you in different directions,” he explains. “ Although an item might be produced using very high tech methods, the end results are still very human.”

Looking at the elegant bowl cup I am drinking my coffee from, Niels nods at Franca – who made it by hand. “I think all pieces are reflections of people, and it’s the same for Franca’s work – it’s basically Franca standing there. I think that is so beautiful: that people are able to express themselves into other objects.”

It is this level of humanity that shines through this apartment. The long table in the dining room yearns to host friends, chatting around flickering candles, long into the night. The smaller circular design in the living room could be spread with jams, fresh bread and newspapers for brunch on a Sunday morning.

The absence of doors allows the spaces to flow into each other, the energy from one room seeping into the next. Even the bathroom, with its rolling door, has no lock. Just a low rumble as it slides to and fro indicates its occupancy.

A simple pane of glass divides the bedroom and dining room, with a linen curtain for those in need of further privacy. Without traditional identities, the rooms become multipurpose, creating an interaction throughout the property.

“If someone entered our home they would think everything was so specific, and It is specific but it’s supposed to be a space where you can relax,” says Niels. “It's not necessarily inviting an evening of entertainment but more a place to just be. To read, to eat, to chat, with no expectations.”

Neils took over the space in 2012 and spent the first two years designing and renovating, with the kitchen finally being completed in 2014.

“There is a really nice Danish word called intimistic, which means something that is self-made, temporary, primitive, intuitive,” says Niels. Having spent so much time with just a rudimentary kitchen, he learnt to understand the room’s most basic needs. Now, his intimistic kitchen features, for instance, drawers made of wine crates. “Being inspired by your surroundings and understanding what you appreciate is really interesting, and that is what I try to create.”

When she moved in with Niels in 2018, Franca found herself in a home with an identity – it was less about imprinting her own mark but rather living within the existing design ethos.

“I don’t try to influence the space too much, but of course we collaborate and make decisions about the space,” she says. “It’s very primitive, it’s quite down to earth and I like that: you don’t feel like you are necessarily in this city environment.”

Franca points out elements she has brought in from her native New Zealand, like a Pāua shell, as well as her own creations. “I’ve definitely contributed to most of the ceramics – I think that was inevitable – but I think it is pretty bare in terms of what we have.” It’s true – there are no unnecessary items lying around – no holiday trinkets or family pictures on the wall. “We don’t really bring them into the house,” says Franca.

Still, the home is not the traditional Scandinavian white wall minimalism that many might expect from a design couple. Instead, it presents itself as a modern definition of Nordic design.

“What is unique is how the design principles correlate with Scandinavian social principles. It’s interconnected with our living standards,” she explains. “That is why it feels so natural or organic. It is embodied in a bigger perspective.” Franca has been living Danishly for several years and says she strongly identifies with the thought process behind the local craftsmanship.

The home is consistently revolving and evolving, as prototypes from Frama are moved in before making way for a new piece of furniture, ceramic, or design work.

“I imagine my grandmother’s house where everything was set to each corner and it never really changed over the years,” says Niels. “With our home, there is always a cycle, it’s always changing.”

Recently, the beautiful oak two panel table replaced their old dining table, constructed from a sheet of waste marble atop concrete slabs.

Elsewhere, furniture balances fashion and function. A mighty glass cabinet sits proudly in the living room. A patchwork of windowpane doors atop piano ceramic wheels. “We don’t really use the cabinet for storage – it is a space to display things. I like to think that some things can just be.”

This sense of simply being is fostered throughout the apartment, from the royal blue parchment painting leaning quietly beside a door frame to the exceptional white glaze bowl Franca made as a gift for Niels sitting peacefully in their little hallway.

This embrace of fluidity and neutralising space makes Franca feel less connected to the concept of home being a particular location. “It’s more of a mindset,” she says. “If you think like this, then you can make any space your home. If a disaster happened and we lost the house, it would be sad but we wouldn’t have this emotional tie.”

“You just need an Akari lamp to make a home,” says Niels, quoting Isamu Noguchi. “Just a rice paper lamp is all you need, he said, and I feel it is kind of true.”

On my way out, I notice a small Akari lamp standing gently on the floor. No pedestal, no premise, just being.