With fewer than 10 per cent of materials used in Iceland currently entering the circular economy, there’s a lot of work to be done in terms of sustainability. But, as shown by the creatives gearing up for DesignMarch in Reykjavík (3 – 7 May 2023), change is in the air.

Surrounded by sea and representing the most sparsely populated country in Europe, Iceland is relatively isolated. ‘We were reminded of our isolation, of being on an island, during COVID,’ Arnar Fells Gunnarsson tells me at the Icelandic Design Award event in late 2022. Fells Gunnarsson is one of the namesakes of Arnar&Arnar, a graphic design studio based in Reykjavík. ‘How can we produce in a self-sustaining way? What if our resources run out?’  

Those resources include water, sheep wool and renewable energy. With the European energy crisis in full swing, the latter has warranted particular attention. In 2021, almost 87 per cent of Iceland’s primary energy came from renewable sources. (Here in the Netherlands, it was just over 12 per cent.) This hasn’t always been the case, though. The largest share of the country’s energy consumption was derived from imported fossil fuels until the early 1970s, reports Halla Hrund Logadóttir, director of the Iceland School of Energy at Reykjavík University. 

Cover and above: Plastplan has upcycled plastic into everything from furniture and luggage tags to a full-blown fitout for Höfuðstöðin – an art museum and cultural centre housing Shoplifter’s Chromo Sapiens.

Similarly, it was only recently that the country’s creative scene began to better capitalize on what’s under its noses. ‘We used to import materials from the likes of China, and weren’t so interested in homegrown design,’ says Fríða Björk Ingvarsdóttir, rector of Reykjavík’s art university, Listaskóli Íslands. ‘Thanks in part to a combination of the founding of the art university [in 1998] and DesignMarch [which began in 2009] we gained new momentum. Now we’re using what we have, and looking to our own resources.’ 

Revaluing waste 

More recently, Iceland’s designers have been investigating resources that would otherwise go to waste. Ástríður Birna Árnadóttir and Karitas Möller, the two architects behind Arkitýpa, make furniture with leftover materials from factories, such as steel, wool and stone. Another way they aim to be more sustainable is by making to order, although this way of working has its challenges. Consumers can be impatient, they say, and that has to change. 

With Felt, Flétta and textile designer Ýrúrarí experiment with offcuts from Icelandic knitting factories.

The winner of the Icelandic Design Award, Plastplan, shows the country’s creative scene isn’t just looking to natural local resources, either. Björn Steinar and Brynjólfur Stefánsson established the venture in 2019 after seeing an urgent need to do something about the country’s growing plastic problem – at the time there were no active plastic recycling companies in Iceland. Steinar had previously worked in the Netherlands with design-driven plastic-recycling pioneer Dave Hakkens, and decided to apply his learnings to home turf. Now, Plastplan has upcycled plastic into everything from furniture and luggage tags to a full-blown fitout for Höfuðstöðin – an art museum and cultural centre housing Shoplifter’s Chromo Sapiens – where no less than 1,520 kg of consumer plastic was collected and transformed into the likes of chairs, tables and luminaires. ‘From the get-go we were clear we didn’t want Plastplan to rely on “plastic charity”, meaning that our work would only be valued and desired because of the recycling aspect,’ says Steinar. ‘We want to design socially and environmentally justified products that are valued for their function, aesthetics and what they truly are.’

Arkitýpa creates furniture with leftover materials from factories, such as steel, wool and stone. Designs are made to order to further reduce waste.

‘Value’ is a term that crops up regularly when speaking to Icelandic creatives. Take product design studio Flétta, which was also founded on the premise of tackling waste. ‘We saw that most materials in Iceland are imported and then exported again for recycling,’ says Hrefna Sigurðardóttir, ‘so we became eager to use the materials here, where they become waste.’ She and her cofounder Birta Rós Brynjólfsdóttir call these waste materials ‘excess materials’, and ‘work with them to underline the value of what would otherwise be squandered’. The studio gained recognition with Trophy, a collection of lights, shelves and side tables made with the trophies that pile up in Iceland’s sports clubs. Each screw and rod from the trophies is used again in the end products. At DesignMarch 2023, Flétta is collaborating with artist and textile designer Ýrúrarí for a playful performative project. Using a felting machine, the creatives will ‘bake’ pizzas on demand from leftovers sourced from the Icelandic wool and knitting industry.

 Creative eco consultants 

Now, local brands are also calling on Flétta to help them come up with inventive ways to reuse their waste – the shreds of fluorescent fabric strung from the walls of its studio, for instance, are offcuts from outdoor brand 66°North. What they will become is not yet clear, but that’s because the duo always let the material lead the way. And for circularity’s sake, they don’t use glue, so future (re)use remains open. 

Shown at DesignMarch 2022, Erm is a collaboration between outdoor brand 66°North, Valdís Steinarsdóttir and Arnar Ingi that sees the sleeves of irreparable 66°North puffer jackets become the cushioned ‘coats’ for chairs

Upcycled airbags from destroyed cars and recycled aluminium car parts are among the materials incorporated into Fólk products.

66°North’s roots are in reuse – the brand claims that 95 per cent of its clothing is reparable – and Flétta is not the only team of creatives it has tapped to bring defunct materials back to life. At DesignMarch 2022, it showcased a collaboration with Valdís Steinarsdóttir and Arnar Ingi (the other Arnar of the aforementioned Arnar&Arnar). Erm (Icelandic for ‘sleeve’) saw the sleeves of irreparable 66°North puffer jackets become the cushioned ‘coats’ for chairs. Stitched together into a long snake, the sleeves wrap around a coil of steel rod – a base that can be fitted with different sleeves if necessary. 

Work in progress

While reuse may be rife within the creative scene, it’s unfortunately not (yet) the norm. ‘Only 8.5 per cent of materials used in Iceland enter the circular economy,’ says Ragna Sara Jonsdottir, founder and creative director of sustainable lifestyle brand Fólk. ‘We have a lot of work to do.’ But it’s clear that Icelandic designers are willing – and equipped – to take on the challenge. In a word, they’re responsive. Perhaps, unlike their Scandinavian neighbours, they’re unburdened by tradition, offering them the freedom to experiment to find the right solutions for home soil.