The Rise and Fall of a Folkhem Utopia: Gustavsberg’s Porcelain Dream
"Mellan bruk och berså" (Between Factory and Arbour), a new visual history book published by Historiska media, offers a captivating glimpse into the idyllic world of Gustavsberg, a Swedish town built around a porcelain factory. From the 1940s through the 1970s, the town flourished under the ownership of the Swedish Cooperative Union (KF), becoming a shining example of the "folkhem" ideal – a society characterized by social equality, welfare, and a strong sense of community. Drawing from KF’s vast photographic archive, now housed at the Nationalmuseum, authors Kjell Lööw, Hans Malm, and Ylva Kjellberg curate a compelling collection of around 300 images, many never before seen by the public. These rediscovered photographs, painstakingly identified with the help of local residents, bring to life the people, processes, and intricate details of Gustavsberg’s golden age.
Central to the visual narrative is the work of photographer Hilding Engströmer, whose lens captured not only the exquisite porcelain creations of Gustavsberg but also the everyday lives of its inhabitants. From the artistic studios to the bustling factory floors, Engströmer’s photographs document the evolution of the industry, including the rise of mass-produced sanitary ware like toilets and sinks, essential components of the burgeoning folkhem project. Beyond the workplace, his images portray a vibrant community enjoying the fruits of Sweden’s booming economy: modern homes, stylish cars, recreational activities, and lively social gatherings. These carefully crafted portrayals projected an image of a contented and prosperous working class, a powerful symbol of Sweden’s progress and a source of both national pride and international admiration. This utopian vision was strategically deployed to showcase the success of the cooperative model and the effectiveness of Swedish social democracy.
However, "Mellan bruk och berså" doesn’t shy away from the complexities of Gustavsberg’s story. While celebrating the town’s achievements, the book also hints at the less glamorous aspects of life in an industrial community. The demanding factory work, with its inherent health risks, is subtly acknowledged. The book touches upon the struggle against occupational hazards like silicosis, a lung disease caused by inhaling silica dust, highlighting the stark reality faced by many workers. The authors also point out the then-common practice of encouraging smoking on the job, a misguided attempt to boost worker alertness with disastrous health consequences. These glimpses into the darker side of Gustavsberg’s past serve as a reminder that even in a seemingly idyllic setting, challenges and inequalities persisted.
The book leaves the reader pondering the fate of this once-thriving utopia, prompting questions about the sustainability of such ambitious social experiments. What happened to Gustavsberg after its heyday? The story of its decline mirrors the larger narrative of the cooperative movement’s struggles, as detailed in Sara Kristoffersson’s "Det förlorade paradiset" (The Lost Paradise). This complementary work chronicles the rise and fall of Konsum, the cooperative retail giant, offering insights into the erosion of the cooperative ideal and the eventual emergence of the troubled modern-day Coop. To fully understand the Gustavsberg story, however, requires examining the specific factors that led to the factory’s sale and the dismantling of its cooperative foundation. This untold story of decline, though perhaps less visually appealing, holds valuable lessons about the challenges of maintaining social and economic utopias in the face of changing global landscapes.
A more nuanced understanding of Gustavsberg’s social fabric can be found in Ulla Wikander’s often-overlooked work, "Kvinnors och mäns arbeten. Gustavsberg 1880–1980" (Women’s and Men’s Work. Gustavsberg 1880–1980). This book provides a penetrating look at the arduous working conditions, particularly for women who consistently earned the lowest wages. It fills in the gaps left by the celebratory imagery of "Mellan bruk och berså," revealing the human cost of industrial progress and the persistent gender inequalities that existed even within a seemingly egalitarian society.
"Mellan bruk och berså" serves as a valuable starting point for a deeper exploration of Gustavsberg’s history. It beckons for a sequel, a second chapter that delves into the town’s decline following its golden years. This untold story needs to be documented and analyzed to understand the complexities of maintaining social and economic utopias. The dismantling of the cooperative model and the eventual sale of the Gustavsberg factory raise crucial questions about the long-term viability of such idealistic ventures. Exploring this period of decline, though perhaps less visually compelling, offers invaluable lessons about the challenges of preserving shared ownership and social responsibility in an increasingly competitive global marketplace. Three decades after the closure of Gustavsberg’s household porcelain factory, a smaller, privately owned operation continues, focusing on high-end bone china, new artistic talent, and limited edition pieces—a stark contrast to the mass production that once defined the town. While classic Stig Lindberg designs continue to be produced, they now evoke a nostalgic yearning for a bygone era, prompting reflection on the possibility of reviving a modernized cooperative ideal in the 21st century.
