Stockholms Waterfronts
Published in Arkitekten 260202
Link (swedish)
The Debate on the Nobel Center Is a Result of Stockholm’s Inadequate Planning
Last week’s presentation of the new Nobel Center has been followed by an intense debate filled with AI-generated images showing alternative proposals ranging from Renaissance palaces to organic terraced landscapes. Yet these speculative visuals are merely a symptom of Stockholm’s inability to articulate a clear vision for the city’s waterfront. Slussen has become a place where pragmatic real estate deals have been prioritized over coherent urban design.
In Stockholm, “Waterfront” refers not to the city’s actual shoreline but to a hotel and conference complex. White Arkitekter received the commission in 2005 through a direct allocation, without a competition or parallel assignment. It took only six years to move from detailed development plan to completed building. The process was efficient, but hardly the result of an overarching urban vision. Instead, the urban design question was reduced to a business transaction. The reception was lukewarm; both Skönhetsrådet and Samfundet S:t Erik condemned the project as a violation of the cityscape. It is also ironic that the complex’s actual “waterfront” is a heavily trafficked six-lane highway where Centralbron meets the city center, with only a narrow pedestrian and bicycle path alongside.
Work on a new Nobel Center has not progressed as quickly. It began on Blasieholmen with a competition won in 2014 by David Chipperfield, but the project’s scale and location triggered one of the city’s most contentious architectural debates. Halting the construction became an election promise that was fulfilled in 2018.
Now that the Nobel Center is being reintroduced, it is not presented within the framework of a new vision, but rather as part of the already complex Slussen redevelopment. In the press material, the new Nobel building is described as an “international symbol of knowledge.” Why, then, is the project located simply where a development right happens to be available?
Alexis Pontvik won the Slussen ideas competition in 1991. Thirteen years later, Nyréns Arkitektkontor won a competition for the traffic solution, and ultimately Foster + Bergs were appointed as winners. In addition, architects such as Anders Wilhelmson, Kjell Forshed, and Måns Tham have presented alternative approaches. One thing all earlier proposals shared is that none introduced new density in front of Jan Lunding’s glass building, where the Nobel Center is now planned. The space in front has long been regarded as an identity-defining part of Slussen’s complex architectural heritage and as a visual foreground to Stadsgårdskajen.
The property is called Hamnmästaren, and was originally intended for an office building as part of a financial arrangement designed to fund the Slussen project. There were initially no plans for a major public building there, but the city exchanged development rights in order to secure a central site for the project. Today, it is difficult to understand the new Slussen as a coherent urban space; it is a fragmented environment where individual subprojects appear to have been resolved without an overall framework. One example is that the city is now launching a parallel assignment for the Lilla Katarina property located between the Nobel Center and Södermalmstorg. Why were these two projects not developed in dialogue with one another? The office building is presented as an abstract glass volume in Chipperfield’s material, yet it is a central component of Slussen with significant impact on the whole.
When the city fails to present a clear concept, the vacuum is easily filled by rapidly generated images on social media. The debate is reduced to façade aesthetics rather than the city’s public realm. A plan this unclear leaves the field open to alternative architectural interpretations. Stockholm must be far more convincing in its arguments for why the Nobel Center is being pressed into this specific site.
There are many examples of cities working more thoughtfully and systematically in comparable situations. In Hamburg, infrastructure and public spaces are planned before land is sold. Copenhagen has successfully integrated harbor bathing facilities into urban development — something that feels almost utopian in Stockholm. Malmö outperforms Stockholm in urban planning, not least in its work on the redevelopment of Varvsstaden.
Stockholm’s waterfront is an enormous resource that the city must learn to manage and develop far more strategically, rather than addressing it randomly through isolated projects. This becomes even more important when the ambition is to create a new landmark. When I think of Venice, I see bridges and gondolas. When I think of the new Slussen in the “Venice of the North,” I see Excel spreadsheets and lease agreements.