Are Scandinavian interiors quintessentially minimalist, or is it just an inaccurate stereotype? Vogue Scandinavia dissects the much-hyped Nordic aesthetic
When the cosy, zen-like concept of 'hygge' started to establish itself globally in 2016, the infatuation with Scandinavian aesthetics reached new heights. The mindset, characterised by complete gratitude for all aspects of life, particularly our homes, took the rest of Europe and then the US by (quiet, calm) storm.
Yet hygge's rise also helped to reinforce the idea that Nordic design is all about neutral colours, clean lines and an almost obsessive focus on minimalism. The question is, how much does that view line up with what is authentically Scandinavian?
Around 1910, the architectural style of Swedish Grace blossomed in Sweden, marking a significant breakthrough for design. Roughly a decade later, the same sleek, neo-classicist aesthetic had impressed itself on home interiors, with neutral hues and renaissance-esque shapes. Then, in 1925, during the renowned International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts in Paris, Sweden fully cemented its global reputation as one of the leading art industry nations in the world, with Swedish Grace becoming the hot topic at the fair.
Arguably, this is the historical concept that best aligns with the modern-day take on Scandinavian minimalism. Yet the 1920s also featured plenty of colours. The Stockholm-based interior powerhouse Svenskt Tenn entered the scene with Estrid Ericson at the helm, leading the way for modernism. Famously collaborating with Austrian architect Josef Frank, their creative partnership sparked a colourful paradigm shift defined by playful patterns in energetic hues. Vibrant tones became highly desirable, being easily infused at home through small decor touches as well as substantial furniture.
The home of Svenskt Tenn's founders Estrid Ericson and Josef Frank.
Fast forward to the 1950s, a decade where the global post-war reality of sans limites entered the scene. Influenced by the prosperity ethos of the American Dream, Nordic interiors also aspired to switch things up in a revolutionary manner. Maximalism became paramount, characterised by its graphic lines combined with strong colours, and unmistakably bold prints, ranging from Marimekko to Frank. To many, the creative colour burst of the 1950s is what truly defined, and still defines, Scandinavian interiors. Yet, it has been overshadowed by a perception found at the very opposite end of the spectrum.
Of course, this speaks to an issue that goes beyond just Scandinavia, with a similar reductivism affecting how lots of regions around the world are viewed. It has become easy to equate Scandi style with minimalism and it has become so ingrained in mainstream discourse that an outside observer would likely be stunned to see the lack of cohesive neutrals, opaque interiors, and concise home stylings that actually exists on the ground here. Although less is more might correlate with the generic view of the region, it fails to capture the real diversity of contemporary Scandinavian interiors.
In fact, there has been a notable shift in the region. Perhaps fuelled by the uncertainty of the past two years, we now opt for colourful infusions rather than sterile spaces. This directly translates to organised chaos through cluttercore, pastel scents à la the Danes, vintage finds from your local antique shop, and plenty of unconventional narratives - all with a significant nod towards maximalism tendencies.
There is a common misuse of the concept of Scandinavian minimalism, arguably to strengthen the relevance of minimalism itself and to help it retain its strong position in popular culture. Yet, the connection is fading. It's time we all embraced the new, sometimes messy but always fascinating diversity in Scandinavian design.