Blocket Mini – Reuse and leftovers, Saltsjöbaden, Sweden, 2009 Private / NCE Bygg
In Sweden 80 % of the population has used the homepage blocket.se, which is similar to e-bay. In 2007 the total value of ads on the homepage was equal to 5,5% of the countries GDP. You could say that it is the largest shop in the country. In architecture this shop is not very present. The Blocket project looks into what architecture could look like if Blocket was the only catalogue of material available. The result is a building which consist of a mix of reused old materials and new materials left over from renovations or just wrong purchases. Windows are the main building element of the building since they are the most common and cheap material available on the site.
The Blocket Mini project is a built experiment based on a research project where blocket.se and the reuse of material in general were discussed, and an in-fi ll housing building (in Stockholm) was designed using the reached conclusions.
The Blocket Mini project consists of two rooms in a garden. One of the rooms is a boathouse (storage) and the other is a dining room/ bedroom. The house is 15 sqm which was 2009 the Swedish limit for building without a building permission.
Renovation apartment from 1954 Bagarmossen, Stockholm
Private / Builder D13 Bygg
Plan Drawing
The apartment, in a 1954 building, was originally designed as an atelier flat. During the 1940s and 50s, modernist housing areas in Sweden often included atelier apartments for artists in each block. These were usually placed in the odd leftover geometries—spaces where a “normal” apartment wouldn’t fit. You can see that logic in this building, where large standard lamella blocks meet in a corner, and the need to connect to the open courtyard and adjust to variations in volume placement created this form.
The result was a small, three-level, one-bedroom apartment with a private stairwell reminiscent of the shared semiprivate ones found elsewhere in the complex. Originally built as a municipally owned rental building, the complex was later bought by residents in the 2010s. When this apartment was sold, only two people had lived in it since it was built. The idea was to preserve it as a work/live space rather than convert it into a typical nuclear-family layout.
From the first visit, the sense of space—formed by slabs coming together—became the main guiding principle for how to treat color and materials. Walls, floors, and ceilings each have their own distinct color, like separate planes or sheets of paper. Colors meet cleanly in the corners, emphasizing that feeling of slabs joined together. A palette of five colors was tested and used consistently throughout, avoiding situations where the same color meets itself in a corner. Built-in storage was treated with the same “slab” logic.
The kitchen has been opened toward the dining area; the building here forms a thin volume, and experiencing that slender space was essential to the apartment’s character. A door was moved from the former kitchen wall to one leading into the bedroom and walk-in closet. The original kitchen cupboards were kept, extended in height, and repainted. In the kitchen’s second corner—where the “machine park” sits (stove, fridge, etc.)—new appliances were installed, hidden behind their own green “slab.”
In the bedroom, a dividing wall built from Ikea Ivar units and knife-cut plywood separates the clothes from the bed. The clothes themselves serve as a soft screen toward the outside, providing privacy when changing. This room sits above the courtyard access, and because of its “floating” character, the floor can get rather cold, so it has been covered with a warm wall-to-wall carpet, adding a touch of modernist luxury. The final “slab” in the space is a circular curtain, enclosing the bed in a green, forest-like clearing.
Downstairs, a tiny guest room has replaced the former second hallway, while the large studio space remains open—its traces of color tests and paint experiments still visible. This space now doubles as a living room and work studio.
Outside the studio, two large trees press against the windows—one blooming pink in spring, echoing a tone from the apartment’s color palette. To create the feeling of being inside the trees rather than looking out at them through a white frame, the inner sides of the window frames were painted green.
Part of the Building lab series with KTH master studios exploring full scale construction. Students not mentioned by name due to Swedish regulations. Spring 2025
Tibro Station Lab is a series of small architectural interventions aiming to transform an abandoned station warehouse in central Tibro into a potential new public building. The interventions are designed and built by students from the KTH School of Architecture, Master studio Fabulous Future Factory, founde and directed by Karin Matz and Anders Berensson in collaboration with the KTH Master studio DKV.
The world urgently needs to reduce carbon dioxide emissions to avoid a global warming catastrophe. Today, one third of all emissions stem from the building industry. Using what already exists is essential to prevent the unnecessary consumption of resources and to lower emissions from construction. Another key factor—both for reducing emissions and strengthening social sustainability—is to produce architecture locally. Throughout the spring, we will practice both.
The studio engages with the existing site and building, maintaining, reusing, and adapting materials while developing its method directly on site. The ambition is to establish a hands-on, locally rooted approach shaped by practical experience and the specific conditions of Tibro’s historic center. The project is carried out in collaboration with Tibro Municipality, focusing on the old station warehouse and its surroundings.
The studio works with adaptive reuse and inventive upcycling of buildings, components, and materials that have been, or will be, dismantled in Stockholm. These elements are transformed at DKV67 into new architectural parts and then integrated into the station warehouse or its surroundings in Tibro. The work serves as both prototypes and permanent structures for future interventions and the continued architectural development of the station warehouse.
Fabulous Future Factory founded by Karin Matz & Anders Berensson in collaboration with Fabege, Spring 2026.
Part of the Building lab series with KTH master studios exploring full scale construction. Students not mentioned by name due to Swedish regulations.
Tenant adaptations are some of the most common construction projects in the industry and make up a big part of the work we architects do. Even though these projects often involve fairly simple structures and rarely need to consider weather conditions, there’s very little reuse happening in this part of the field. People tend to stick to the way things have always been done. Reusing materials can be tricky—it raises questions about room specifications, warranties, and responsibilities. It’s usually easier to work with new products, even though reused materials can be just as good, and often cheaper. Another key point is the expectation of freshness. Few people want to move into a space that feels old or tired. The feeling of newness, freshness, and smooth functionality shouldn’t be underestimated—especially in offices or commercial spaces that might not have strong architectural features to offer.
These days, many offices look very similar, with the same ceiling heights, moldings, and acoustic ceiling panels. In many cases, the only thing that can make a space stand out is that feeling of freshness. That means reused materials need to be handled in a way that keeps the space looking vibrant and appealing.
Branding is another important factor. Companies naturally want to show off their brand, often against a simple backdrop so that their products stand out. But the changes one tenant makes to highlight their brand rarely fit the next tenant’s preferences. A perfect example is Telia’s former offices at the Mall of Scandinavia. Telia, the former Swedish telecom provider, had a very distinct color profile—orange, green, and purple carpets—that clearly said “Telia” about 15 years ago. Now, Telia has moved out, leaving thousands of square meters of branded carpets behind.
The challenge was: can these carpets get a new life? Can they be given a second chance by mixing them into new patterns? Can we turn them into something fresh, exciting, and functional instead of throwing them away?
