Rough with the smooth: a creative couple’s Swedish home

Photographs by Pia Ulin

Just metres from the Baltic Sea, overlooking the city, it takes five minutes for Pontus, brand manager at Swedish fashion brand Acne Studios, and his wife, the model and writer Hanna Juzon, to commute by boat from their private deck into the centre of the city. While they have been living in their newly built home for two years, they designed the concept in blistering detail back in 2018 – finally sharing their comprehensive 85-page brief with Swedish design studio and architects Halleröd five years later.

Central to the design was a house where every room was utilised and no space would be wasted. “We designed the guest bathroom to be on the lower ground floor so that people have to go down and experience the full house,” says Hanna. “We wanted a home that is alive and for every single part of it to be used.”

The lower level has an and concrete exterior courtyard that takes inspiration from the Japanese concept of a serene stone garden. At its centre stands a single, gleaming white marble cone – one of a pair, its twin hidden deep in a Swedish forest, by artist Jesper Sundberg Örtegren, who alone holds the coordinates. “He believes the cones communicate with each other,” Hanna smiles. “We are just the hosts; we don’t own this piece.”

Although they don’t own either sculpture, the couple found a playful connection to them through their wedding cake, which was baked to replicate the marble cone. A photograph of the happy couple slicing the triangular cake was later featured in British Vogue.

Pontus is Swedish and Hanna is Polish and the pair, who communicate in English, are part of the Scandinavian fashion set. They originally met in London 20 years ago when Hanna, who studied Applied Maths at Imperial College London, was modelling for Acne Studios; they barely remember this initial meeting, but were reintroduced by a mutual friend a few years later. Today they live with Pontus’s two teenage daughters and their two dalmatians – Cujo, named after Stephen King’s book about the killer dog, and Chucky, whose namesake is the evil doll.

“I like the rough with the smooth,” explains Pontus of both his dog-naming and design decisions.

On the ground floor, the living room stretches up to 4.5m and is centred by a towering concrete chimney, made using layers of concrete to create an organic, rough texture.

“I had a very clear idea that I wanted the material of the stove to have a story of its own,” he explains. “I also wanted it to be unusually big. It’s nice when things are not proportional.”

Floor-to-ceiling windows flood the room with light. Limestone portals frame each doorway with pocket doors that slide into the walls. Pontus wanted this specific element in order to create more space and ensure a seamless flow throughout the building. “I think functionality is so important, but also I chose this stone because it is humble,” he says. Materiality was also a key consideration for both Pontus and Hanna. “We both love denim and leather, and are drawn to things that age well,” adds Pontus. “It tells a story over time.”

A brass handle shaped to resemble a branch on the hallway cabinet is already softly tarnished with use. In the kitchen stainless-steel counters and cabinets were selected as a practical solution for Pontus, who is the main cook and enjoys perfecting his truffle pasta. The room was also consciously created so that eating together could only take place around the dining table.

In the dining room a bespoke walnut side unit is home to the sink and hides the dishwasher, cutlery and plates. Its handles are made from the roots of the walnut tree. A sculpture by British artist Gabriella Gormley is displayed on top of the cabinet and a framed work by Polish artist Slawomir Elsner hangs above it. “We wanted the dining room to feel cosy and more like a living room,” says Pontus.

Walnut was also used for their closets in the main bedroom, while oak floorboards and beams are utilised in the sitting room. “We like the mix of things and don’t like to be coherent,” he adds. This “incoherent” design sensibility is found in the composition of the ceiling in the entrance hall. Pontus intentionally wanted the landing above to look and feel different. “I really dislike it when you understand the construction of a house immediately,” he explains. “I wanted to conceal the walkway between the girls’ rooms.” Instead, a deep, organic, hammock-like ceiling was built – “a swoosh,” smiles Pontus. Tucked in beside the curved ceiling is a long light tube. “You get this blurring when the roughness of the light meets this beautiful and warm, feminine shape.”

A collector’s paradise, both Pontus and Hanna’s collections of artworks speak of their style and personal history. Local Swedish ceramicist Calle Forsberg has his workshop nearby and his coarsely glazed pieces can be found scattered throughout their home. Hanna has a passion for works from her homeland. “I feel very attached to Polish art,” she says. “I think the heritage is insane, everything is soaked with politics. Sweden has a different social system in place. People are more free to create and develop their ideas here compared to Poland – which is sometimes good and sometimes bad!”

In the case of Hannah and Pontus, the rough and smooth, light and shadow, art and function have been allowed to coexist. Their home tells the story of its inhabitants not through spectacle, but thought, tactility and shared experience.