wood forest
Prefabricated architectural concept by architect Emelie Holmberg. I photographed the first made situated in unspoiled woodlands on the island of Väddö, Sweden.
It grew out of a realization of changing living and working patterns partly precipitated by the pandemic. Pre-Covid, Emelie had dreamt of a more flexible lifestyle facilitated by technology, allowing her to work remotely wherever she chose, so long as she had internet access.
This partly sparked the idea for Gimme Shelter, which began life as a concept for her own self-build, low-cost home. The project comprises two structures. One measures 32 sq m and contains a living room, kitchen, and bathroom; the other occupies 10sq m and houses a bedroom.
GIMME SHELTER
HOUSE BETWEEN THE TREES
BY JAMES SILVERMAN PHOTOGRAPHY
Nestled gently among a thicket of trees, the Danish architect Peter Kjær’s House Between the Trees emerges as a masterclass in subtlety and craftsmanship. Its T-shaped plan, crowned with an archetypal gabled roof, whispers of modesty yet conceals a treasure trove of refined details. This is architecture in its most elemental form: breathable, sustainable, and deeply attuned to its context.
The house appears to float above the landscape, its foundations a minimal intervention—a system of screw piles edged with concrete in wooden formwork. By eschewing the heavy hand of traditional concrete slabs, Kjær deftly minimizes the home’s environmental footprint while elevating the aesthetic potential of the exposed plinth beam. A terrain deck—crafted without concrete—forms a tactile threshold, composed of pressure-resistant insulation overlaid with chipboard and sumptuous Douglas fir. The result is a base that feels as light as the house itself, grounded yet ephemeral.
Inside, the design reveals a poetic interplay between structure and light. The two wings—one shielding the bedroom spaces from the nearby road, the other hosting a west-facing family room—converge at a kitchen that acts as the heart of the home. This intersection is more than functional; it orchestrates a dialogue between inside and out, morning and evening, human and nature. The kitchen spills out onto two terraces, each calibrated to capture the sun’s trajectory from dawn to dusk, while a staircase leads upward to a loft bathed in the tender glow of eastern light.
Nestled gently among a thicket of trees, the Danish architect Peter Kjær’s House Between the Trees emerges as a masterclass in subtlety and craftsmanship. Its T-shaped plan, crowned with an archetypal gabled roof, whispers of modesty yet conceals a treasure trove of refined details. This is architecture in its most elemental form: breathable, sustainable, and deeply attuned to its context. The house appears to float above the landscape, its foundations a minimal intervention—a system of screw piles edged with concrete in wooden formwork. By eschewing the heavy hand of traditional concrete slabs, Kjær deftly minimizes the home’s environmental footprint while elevating the aesthetic potential of the exposed plinth beam. A terrain deck—crafted without concrete—forms a tactile threshold, composed of pressure-resistant insulation overlaid with chipboard and sumptuous Douglas fir. The result is a base that feels as light as the house itself, grounded yet ephemeral. Inside, the design reveals a poetic interplay between structure and light. The two wings—one shielding the bedroom spaces from the nearby road, the other hosting a west-facing family room—converge at a kitchen that acts as the heart of the home. This intersection is more than functional; it orchestrates a dialogue between inside and out, morning and evening, human and nature. The kitchen spills out onto two terraces, each calibrated to capture the sun’s trajectory from dawn to dusk, while a staircase leads upward to a loft bathed in the tender glow of eastern light. Materiality here is tactile and alive, a testament to Kjær’s attention to detail. The interiors are a symphony of Douglas fir: frames, tap bands, and walls clad in thin veneer, each surface soap-treated to retain its natural hue and enhance its patina over time. These wooden finishes are both robust and forgiving, aging gracefully like the forest that envelops the house. Even the vapor barriers and insulation speak of sustainability, formed of wood fibers that allow the building to breathe—a living, breathing entity embedded within its surroundings. Externally, the house wears its simplicity like a second skin. The facade is cloaked in linseed-oiled spruce, its muted tones harmonizing with the surrounding trunks, while the roof, formed of spruce boards and roofing felt, completes the organic palette. This is architecture that resists ostentation, favoring an honesty of form and material that speaks directly to the land it inhabits. Kjær’s House Between the Trees is not merely a building; it is a manifesto for a new vernacular—one that celebrates the possibilities of biogenic materials, rethinks the weight of foundations, and quietly redefines what it means to build in harmony with nature. It is, in essence, a retreat that doesn’t retreat but rather listens, adapts, and settles softly into its wooded embrace.
Materiality here is tactile and alive, a testament to Kjær’s attention to detail. The interiors are a symphony of Douglas fir: frames, tap bands, and walls clad in thin veneer, each surface soap-treated to retain its natural hue and enhance its patina over time. These wooden finishes are both robust and forgiving, aging gracefully like the forest that envelops the house. Even the vapor barriers and insulation speak of sustainability, formed of wood fibers that allow the building to breathe—a living, breathing entity embedded within its surroundings.
Externally, the house wears its simplicity like a second skin. The facade is cloaked in linseed-oiled spruce, its muted tones harmonizing with the surrounding trunks, while the roof, formed of spruce boards and roofing felt, completes the organic palette. This is architecture that resists ostentation, favoring an honesty of form and material that speaks directly to the land it inhabits.
Kjær’s House Between the Trees is not merely a building; it is a manifesto for a new vernacular—one that celebrates the possibilities of biogenic materials, rethinks the weight of foundations, and quietly redefines what it means to build in harmony with nature. It is, in essence, a retreat that doesn’t retreat but rather listens, adapts, and settles softly into its wooded embrace.



























































wood forest
Prefabricated architectural concept by architect Emelie Holmberg. I photographed the first made situated in unspoiled woodlands on the island of Väddö, Sweden.
It grew out of a realization of changing living and working patterns partly precipitated by the pandemic. Pre-Covid, Emelie had dreamt of a more flexible lifestyle facilitated by technology, allowing her to work remotely wherever she chose, so long as she had internet access.
This partly sparked the idea for Gimme Shelter, which began life as a concept for her own self-build, low-cost home. The project comprises two structures. One measures 32 sq m and contains a living room, kitchen, and bathroom; the other occupies 10sq m and houses a bedroom.
GIMME SHELTER
HOUSE BETWEEN
THE TREES
BY JAMES SILVERMAN PHOTOGRAPHY
Nestled gently among a thicket of trees, the Danish architect Peter Kjær’s House Between the Trees emerges as a masterclass in subtlety and craftsmanship. Its T-shaped plan, crowned with an archetypal gabled roof, whispers of modesty yet conceals a treasure trove of refined details. This is architecture in its most elemental form: breathable, sustainable, and deeply attuned to its context.
The house appears to float above the landscape, its foundations a minimal intervention—a system of screw piles edged with concrete in wooden formwork. By eschewing the heavy hand of traditional concrete slabs, Kjær deftly minimizes the home’s environmental footprint while elevating the aesthetic potential of the exposed plinth beam. A terrain deck—crafted without concrete—forms a tactile threshold, composed of pressure-resistant insulation overlaid with chipboard and sumptuous Douglas fir. The result is a base that feels as light as the house itself, grounded yet ephemeral.
Inside, the design reveals a poetic interplay between structure and light. The two wings—one shielding the bedroom spaces from the nearby road, the other hosting a west-facing family room—converge at a kitchen that acts as the heart of the home. This intersection is more than functional; it orchestrates a dialogue between inside and out, morning and evening, human and nature. The kitchen spills out onto two terraces, each calibrated to capture the sun’s trajectory from dawn to dusk, while a staircase leads upward to a loft bathed in the tender glow of eastern light.
Nestled gently among a thicket of trees, the Danish architect Peter Kjær’s House Between the Trees emerges as a masterclass in subtlety and craftsmanship. Its T-shaped plan, crowned with an archetypal gabled roof, whispers of modesty yet conceals a treasure trove of refined details. This is architecture in its most elemental form: breathable, sustainable, and deeply attuned to its context. The house appears to float above the landscape, its foundations a minimal intervention—a system of screw piles edged with concrete in wooden formwork. By eschewing the heavy hand of traditional concrete slabs, Kjær deftly minimizes the home’s environmental footprint while elevating the aesthetic potential of the exposed plinth beam. A terrain deck—crafted without concrete—forms a tactile threshold, composed of pressure-resistant insulation overlaid with chipboard and sumptuous Douglas fir. The result is a base that feels as light as the house itself, grounded yet ephemeral. Inside, the design reveals a poetic interplay between structure and light. The two wings—one shielding the bedroom spaces from the nearby road, the other hosting a west-facing family room—converge at a kitchen that acts as the heart of the home. This intersection is more than functional; it orchestrates a dialogue between inside and out, morning and evening, human and nature. The kitchen spills out onto two terraces, each calibrated to capture the sun’s trajectory from dawn to dusk, while a staircase leads upward to a loft bathed in the tender glow of eastern light. Materiality here is tactile and alive, a testament to Kjær’s attention to detail. The interiors are a symphony of Douglas fir: frames, tap bands, and walls clad in thin veneer, each surface soap-treated to retain its natural hue and enhance its patina over time. These wooden finishes are both robust and forgiving, aging gracefully like the forest that envelops the house. Even the vapor barriers and insulation speak of sustainability, formed of wood fibers that allow the building to breathe—a living, breathing entity embedded within its surroundings. Externally, the house wears its simplicity like a second skin. The facade is cloaked in linseed-oiled spruce, its muted tones harmonizing with the surrounding trunks, while the roof, formed of spruce boards and roofing felt, completes the organic palette. This is architecture that resists ostentation, favoring an honesty of form and material that speaks directly to the land it inhabits. Kjær’s House Between the Trees is not merely a building; it is a manifesto for a new vernacular—one that celebrates the possibilities of biogenic materials, rethinks the weight of foundations, and quietly redefines what it means to build in harmony with nature. It is, in essence, a retreat that doesn’t retreat but rather listens, adapts, and settles softly into its wooded embrace.
Materiality here is tactile and alive, a testament to Kjær’s attention to detail. The interiors are a symphony of Douglas fir: frames, tap bands, and walls clad in thin veneer, each surface soap-treated to retain its natural hue and enhance its patina over time. These wooden finishes are both robust and forgiving, aging gracefully like the forest that envelops the house. Even the vapor barriers and insulation speak of sustainability, formed of wood fibers that allow the building to breathe—a living, breathing entity embedded within its surroundings.
Externally, the house wears its simplicity like a second skin. The facade is cloaked in linseed-oiled spruce, its muted tones harmonizing with the surrounding trunks, while the roof, formed of spruce boards and roofing felt, completes the organic palette. This is architecture that resists ostentation, favoring an honesty of form and material that speaks directly to the land it inhabits.
Kjær’s House Between the Trees is not merely a building; it is a manifesto for a new vernacular—one that celebrates the possibilities of biogenic materials, rethinks the weight of foundations, and quietly redefines what it means to build in harmony with nature. It is, in essence, a retreat that doesn’t retreat but rather listens, adapts, and settles softly into its wooded embrace.




