Why a Designer with Distinctive Taste Finds Joy in Cooking
Editor Sunjin Kim | Photographer Martin Brusewitz
Fredrik Paulsen is a designer with a particular interest in chairs. For him, home is a precious living space where he spends time with his family. It is also a setting where he can freely blend and experiment with different eras and styles. Objects he comes across by chance at flea markets and auctions, or through family and friends, become a source of fresh ideas for his work. From the skateboarding that filled Paulsen’s childhood to the furniture design he devotes himself to and the cooking he enjoys as a hobby, his lifestyle is full of things that bring him joy and inspiration.
This interview is featured in Issue 6 ‘Stool 60’.
It was great to meet you for the first time at 3daysofdesign in Copenhagen this year. You were presenting products from your brand, Joy Objects. What led you to start the brand?
Joy Objects started from the idea that “you have to create your own joyful spaces.” I enjoy small, journey-like experiences in everyday life, and I seek out things that bring me joy. Joy Objects furniture is made of steel, with simple structures and vibrant colors, so it’s fun to look at and has a groovy feel. Everything is made in Sweden and shipped flat-packed around the world.
You studied at the Royal College of Art (RCA) in London, where you were taught by Ron Arad.
My time at the RCA was about finding my own identity. Rather than producing a lot, I spent it thinking about what I could combine and how. I actually started working in earnest in 2010, after I graduated. The school had a strong academic atmosphere, and you had to explain everything thoroughly and back it up. At the time, it wasn’t easy to express why I wanted to make the work I did. After graduating, though, I felt completely free. I could focus on the work itself without having to explain it to anyone.
Unlike Joy Objects, with its functional steel furniture, your home is mostly filled with wooden chairs, and there are lots of antiques too. That’s surprising.
Actually, that’s part of the fun for me. My studio is a creative space full of my own work, but at home I can look at pieces by designers I admire to spark new ideas, or step away from work for a while. Then there are personal things like stones I picked up on the beach, a small sculpture my daughter made when she was three, and artworks and antiques I bought at auction. Together, they finally made this a home that feels safe, comfortable, and truly mine.
Unique chairs stand out in every corner. Now I see why you call yourself a chair “maniac.” Could you briefly introduce them one by one?
The chair I use most in the living room is Charlotte Perriand’s Meribel Chair. I love it because its form is very simple yet iconic. In the small dining room off the kitchen, I’ve put three of my own Joy Objects Chair One chairs alongside an Orchestra Chair by Sven Markelius. It was designed by the Swedish architect in the 1930s, and I came across it by chance at a flea market. My daughter loves it so much that she refuses to sit on any other chair. (Laughs) I’m also lucky to own Gaetano Pesce’s Green Street chair, which Vitra produced in a limited run of only 75 in 1984. I also have a vintage Driade chair with the sculptural form of the postmodern era, Charles & Ray Eames’s Molded Plywood Lounge Chair LCW, and Alvar Aalto’s Stool 60. Finally, there’s a vintage chair whose name I don’t know. With its low seat and very high back, it seems to have been made for a specific purpose. I suspect it was used for praying in church. I can’t tell exactly what it is, but its mysterious look is part of its charm.
How did you choose such a varied collection of chairs?
Most of them I won at auction or stumbled upon at flea markets. I’m very picky about design, especially chairs, and I believe it’s better to have nothing than something I don’t truly love. When I moved here, the house was almost empty for a while. Instead of setting a particular concept or plan, I only brought things in when I found something I really loved. Over time, elements from different eras and styles come together and create a new experience. Unexpected relationships emerge, too. Sven Markelius’s Orchestra Chair and Alvar Aalto’s Stool 60, for example, evoke a conversation between two designers who worked in the same period and knew each other’s work well.
You own quite a few Stool 60s. Are they vintage as well?
Stool 60 is the chair I’ve been collecting the longest. I started long before I moved into this house. When I first began, you could find them everywhere. I’d spot people throwing them out on the street or pulling them out of containers, and I’d take them home. In fact, I got most of them for next to nothing, just a few pennies at a flea market. Money was tight back then, so that was part of the appeal too. One of the reasons I came to love Stool 60 was precisely how common it was. It was an ordinary tool used in places like libraries and workshops, not something made as a high-end design object.
Perhaps that’s why they show such clear signs of age. Do you like the worn paint and scratches on the seats?
I also like the designs of Danish modernists like Arne Jacobsen and Hans Wegner, but their work is so precisely dimensioned that even a small flaw often spoils the look. With Stool 60, by contrast, even if someone used it in a garage and got oil on it, those marks become clues to the chair’s history. Thanks to its simple form and structure, it grows more beautiful with age. I like practical, intuitive design that’s almost like hardware, the kind you might find on a shelf at a DIY store, like Aalto’s.
Swedish and Finnish design have a lot in common, so you must have felt a connection with Stool 60.
If you draw a line from Finland through Sweden to Denmark, it forms a kind of spectrum. Finland has a lot of honest, functional, somewhat rough design like Stool 60, while Denmark stands out for sensual, artistic design using exotic woods. Sweden sits somewhere in between, at the point where very rough design gradually “fades out” into more elaborate, refined design. Personally, when I look at Aalto’s work, I feel closer to the Finnish approach.
Was there anything in Alvar Aalto’s work that particularly resonated with you?
I experience a kind of tactile quality in Aalto’s work. His furniture feels like an extension of architecture, and my own interest in design began with a similar experience. As a kid, I was always looking for places to skateboard, and I came across all sorts of interesting spaces. Skating inside abandoned buildings and hanging out in places like garages, I learned about architecture naturally. When I explored abandoned workshop buildings and found objects like chairs or lamps inside, I could sense that they weren’t made to be fancy. They existed for that space. I was deeply inspired by objects that felt like “relics” of society and architecture. Stool 60 gives me that feeling especially strongly.
Your life is filled with design, from your work to every corner of your home. Is there anything besides design that brings you joy? (Laughs)
I really love cooking. When I cook, I feel at one with the ingredients, and those moments make me so happy. I forget everything else and focus only on that moment, on chopping onions or prepping ingredients. For me, cooking is almost like meditation. At the same time, I want to make proper meals for myself and my family.
That’s interesting. Do you have a favorite dish or food?
I like to use whatever’s in the pantry at the time, so I think I cook the same way I design. My strength is looking at the ingredients I have and turning them into something my family will enjoy. Cooking holds everything I love, from tools and ingredients to the act of cooking and the pleasure of eating. I enjoy going grocery shopping to pick out fresh produce and look over the packaging, and I like collecting cookbooks and tools like knives, pots, pans, and tableware. Even chores I can’t avoid, like washing the dishes, put me in a good mood. I once found a dish rack at a hardware store in Tokyo and hauled it home in my suitcase. I felt a little silly for a moment, but looking back, I’m really happy with it. Whether it’s a chair or a pot, being surrounded by things I’m attached to makes everything in daily life more enjoyable.
Want to dive deeper?
Issue.06 Stool 60
Designed in 1933 by architect Alvar Aalto, Stool 60 has long been part of everyday life in Finland. At home in kindergartens, schools, libraries, and city halls, it symbolizes the 'democratic value of design' in the way its function and use can be freely adapted to each user's needs. Aalto used dense, hard Finnish birch for durability and maximized production efficiency with L-shaped legs made of bent laminated wood. The result was a chair of broad versatility and true mass-production potential. Stool 60 may well be called the most human chair ever offered by an architect who pursued human-centered architecture.
