By Rosalina Broberg Foroughipour, Aarhus school of Architecture.



An investigation of the building typology that dominates the Swedish Million program from the 1960’s. The large-scale suburban area Tensta, located in the municipality of Stockholm, has been the primary location of my research. The methods developed throughout the project are examples of a general method to approaching the typology.

Looking at the theme of time in architecture, I found that the typology and the architects behind it sought a result rather than a continuing design and building process- a universal typology for living and not an area open for changes. I wanted to question this by observing the landscape and investigating it as an architectural reference. I have created drawings, prints, videos and various objects that describes and discuss the aspect of time in building and designing architecture.




I have walked from Hjulsta to Rinkeby in the municipality of Stockholm. Walking has been a method of gaining an understanding of the area by experiencing it and becoming a user myself. I have produced videos and photos and afterwards I have used the material to define characteristics of the typology and to draw a conclusion

Nature is not only shaped by us and our actions, but also by the weather and climate. It is constantly changing.

A collage with sketches of the grass before and after rain and pictures of a composed landscape. Both pictures and sketches are from a study trip to Åsteby, close to Torsby.




The two designs consist of the same cuts of fabric.

The first design evolves slowly because it is sewn together one side or connection at a time. The pieces of fabric are not dependent on each other, meaning one piece can be removed without destroying the full piece.

The second design is sewn together with lines that go from one side of the piece to the other, with lines that do not follow the shapes of the fabric pieces. All of the pieces are put together at the same time, and one cannot be taken out without destroying the entire piece.

Both techniques are manners of putting objects together, or building, and the aspect of interdependence can be applied in all scales.


Adding, moving, shaping. The video consists of three themes- adding, moving and shaping- that show ways of how a landscape can change over time. Each theme consists of three sequences.

The changes that are shown in the movie are reactions which can also be used in architecture, for example as a perception of how a building can change.

Linoleum printing is a form of relief printing. The proportions of the lines create a hierarchy and a sense of perspective, but the non-coloured areas can also be perceived as lines- a minimalistic abstraction of the image, in this case grasses next to the water.

The technique has spatial qualities because it translates lines into reliefs and reliefs into lines. All the prints are different even though they are produced with the same machine and same colour. It is a repetitive system that allows for different results.

Experiments with imitations of repetitive objects in a different material are a way of perceiving architecture as a part of the existing, but with subtle distinctions.


The surface of the suburb is naked

Playground, kebab and bench located in nothing

Functions in an area of nothing

Nothing is suffocating



The area is a grid

The building is a grid

A grid of objects

Objects for building



Buildings are built

Built fast

Deflected and controlled




The landscape is growing

Growing slowly

Symbiosis and survival


There is no time

No time for richness

No sustainability without beauty

No time for beauty



The landscape as a reference

Vernacular coexistence

The building as a landscape

The landscape as a building



The landscape as non-dictative

Composed complexity

Without direction or instruction

It possesses all functions



the landscape transcribed

Into something built

Reinterpreted revived

Living spaces



If we just could plan

Plan for the people who will come

The needs that will come

Come and go



How to leave space

Space for who, for what

Space for the next architect

Space for landscape, for life



By Nora Velander, Konstfack University of Arts, Crafts and Design 

People’s imprints and how they could be used in designing, planning and building spaces

What imprints do we make in the public space? And what meaning do they hold for us? How do they work? What do these traces contain? What are the characteristics of the traces we leave?

All the imprints we leave communicate something about a human having been there, that something has happened there, or what the space is used for and how. In this project I have been thinking about how we as architects (and other professions that take part in the process of designing, planning and building spaces) can use these tracks and imprints to understand what is needed and indirectly ask people what they want or need.


Four categories of imprints

1. Intentional imprints



My first category of imprints is the imprints that someone has made intentionally. I think that everyone has a natural curiosity towards the people around them, and they are also interested in who was here before.

The field of archaeology is about seeing imprints and traces of who was here before. Closely related to that is the basic human need to be seen, that I think is both about being seen now, as well as being seen by people after us. Maybe that is why many people have a desire to become famous. This phenomenon might play a big part in why many people make imprints intentionally.

When I’ve been walking around the city looking for imprints and traces I have noticed that there seems to be a common need to be seen through one’s imprints and marks, such as carvings, graffiti and tags. In the environments we create many people would argue that these imprints look bad. But what if the public space was made in such a way that it was more tolerant in terms of making marks? Perhaps then more people might embrace their desire to do that.


2 Broken or patinated imprints

My second category of imprints is traces that show something has been broken or patinated in a different way than planned. I think these kinds of imprints are most likely made by accident and are very common in the public space. We tend to try and overthrow them by trying to erase them, often with the aim of restoring the area to looking the same as before. It seems these kinds of imprints are the ones that make us throw away things and renovate areas and buildings, even though we know that this is not good practice when it comes to saving the resources we have in this world. Maybe we should work with them instead of against them when we create an environment. As architects, I think we could learn from these kinds of imprints; how can we design an environment that includes and maybe even benefits from them?

3 Imprints as the lack of people

In my third category, the imprints are the obvious lack of people. A place where you can see that something is made for a human, often in a very specific way. It’s almost as if there is an imprint of a person in the air where someone should be or used to be. An empty bench, for instance, where you can almost see a human sitting there, but the space is unoccupied. Or a lost mitten could be an imprint of the person who lost it and an imprint of the hand that used to wear it.


4 Deformed ground, footprints and paths

My last category is the imprints that are traces and marks left on the ground through continuous movement, often from several people. I have noticed that these traces are formed by the removal of material from the surface (caused by people moving), for example on paths in the forest or on a lawn. These kinds of imprints can also be made quickly if the material on the ground is easy to form, like sand or thin ice, then one person’s movement over the surface can be enough.


Imprints when planning and designing spaces

As architects, we have power over people’s everyday lives and I think that we need to think about what we do with that power; how we use it and also how we should not use it. For example, where we decide to put a wall will affect how people use that space and how people will interact. Or, how we program a square will affect how people will use it. Therefore I think we have a responsibility and need to ask people and investigate what they want to have and how we can improve our design based on those needs.


There are many different ways of doing this; in my work I have come up with a suggestion on how we could do it that complements more direct questions. In my investigation on imprints and traces I have come up with a vision of how we could use and study people’s imprints to: get answers to the questions of what people need and want, or to work with our natural movements, habits and needs in a new way, by investigating the imprints people leave. Many imprints don’t appear until the same movement is made by a large number of people, like the traces in category four: ‘Deformed ground, footprints and paths.’


What if we try to apply that knowledge when we are planning a square? We could start out with a lawn covering the whole square and then after one or two months we would be able to see where to put the walkways and the best spot for flower beds, trees and fountains, based on people’s patterns of movement. I think that could be a way of asking people what they want and how they want their part of the city to be, and we  would do it in an environmentally friendly way.

The example of Skärholmen used to illustrate this suggested design approach.

First grass will be planted on the whole square.

After a month or two paths appear in the grass. Then all of us who are designing, planning and building the square can look at these paths and draw conclusions from them, such as seeing where we should make walkways and where to place the other objects we might want in that square. In this way we could use the square as a big drawing board and try things before executing them permanently, while asking people how they want their surroundings to be formed.




By Peter Gehrman, Konstfack University of Arts, Crafts and Design



The memories of you and I are given a physical

meaning in the building of society.


Our personal history - all the changes,

the details, the nonsense and the essentials,

they all become integrated into our



They become the elements that keep up the structure.

Pillars, tiles, banisters, bricks, door handles, frames.


Our collective memory.



By Marthe Kulseth, Konstfack University of Arts, Crafts and Design. 

I have created a game, shaped like furniture, to show viewpoints from where the Human-Made world is created. The architects dematerialise the world in the belief that this process will show the truth. They are traditionally taught to look at their society from far away, with an overview of everything, but without detail, creating patterns of buildings in order to organize their drawing boards. Trapped in the system of representation, the architect is not free in his or her work. They must plan something that can be efficiently built. Without the argument of efficiency, their work will not become true.



By Sarah Bovelett, The Royal Academy Art, The Hague


How visible are you in the public space? Do you notice, do you care?

Are you a protagonist or are you just a random marginal figure, lost in the overwhelming built environment?

My city is about the people living in it.

How do they belong and how does the city reflect their belonging? My interest lies in the tension between people and cities, the tension between the sense of belonging and acceptance, and ignorance and neglect.

My city is about the protagonists of it. Who are the main characters in our cities and how do our cities reflect the hierarchy of these characters? Most buildings are there for certain people at distinct times of the day. People belong to certain buildings. At the same time, places also belong to different people.

In a time where the arrival of new people to our cities has increased beyond than ordinary, the question of belonging is put into a new perspective. Where do people arrive and how do people take space and make themselves belong?


I have taken walks through suburbs, observing the architecture and planning of the areas but also the people in them and their behaviors. I have questioned arriving in and belonging to these areas, and I have observed myself in them. I have assessed my perceptions and feelings in certain spaces and tried to connect these observations to the frames the area is imposing. Spaces are proposing how people in them act and interact. Architecture forces movement and proposes certain gestural motions a body should make.

Screen Shot 2018-04-25 at 17.27.34.png

The visited areas, some of which are built as part of the million-program, are characteristic for their big building blocks, with big areas of green in between. Cars and pedestrians are separated from one another through multiple bridges and the entire planning evolves around overview and visibility. Promenades are overlooked by the windows of the houses framing them. This high visibility is also connected to control and hierarchy. What is the connection between architecture  and gender roles and division? What is the influence of this architecture on one’s perception when walking in a promenade in this area? Does one feel watched? Does one become a protagonist, antagonist or is one just an unimportant factor?

collage tenstagången .jpg
collage tenstagången 2.jpg
collage tenstagången 3.jpg
collage tenstagången 4.jpg
collage tenstagången 5.jpg
collage tenstagången 6.jpg
collage tenstagången 7.jpg
collage tenstagången 8.jpg
collage tenstagången 9.jpg
collage tenstagången 10.jpg