The lamp feels alive because it is both fixed and moving
At a Copenhagen design festival this June, Carl Hansen & Søn unveiled Begonya, a pendant lamp that asks an old question in a new form: what is lost, and what is preserved, when human hands give way to machines? Designed by Øivind Slaatto and requiring seven hours of labor and 168 precisely fitted joints per piece, the lamp draws its animating spirit from fire — that most ancient and restless of lights — and places it in conversation with a Danish manufacturing tradition that refuses to be extinguished by economic convenience.
- A lamp that takes seven hours to assemble by hand challenges the assumption that industrial scale and artisanal integrity must be traded against each other.
- Øivind Slaatto's mathematical engineering of a non-woven polyethylene shade creates the visual unpredictability of flame — a controlled wildness that machines cannot easily imitate.
- Carl Hansen & Søn manufactures nearly all its products in Denmark at a time when high labor costs are pushing most competitors offshore, making each piece a quiet act of cultural resistance.
- The company's Funen factory doubles as a craftsman academy, complete with physiotherapy and morning warm-ups, signaling that sustaining handwork means sustaining the human body that performs it.
- Begonya's debut within an exhibition pairing historical and new designs frames the lamp not as novelty but as continuation — the latest answer to a question the company has been asking for generations.
At Copenhagen's 3daysofdesign festival this June, Carl Hansen & Søn introduced Begonya, a pendant lamp that concentrates the company's entire design philosophy into a single glowing object. Its creator, Øivind Slaatto, began with fire — with the way flames shift and flicker, never identical from one moment to the next — and set himself the problem of translating that restlessness into something you could hang from a ceiling.
His solution was structural and mathematical: a complex aluminum skeleton of 168 precisely engineered joints, finished in warm gold and assembled without glue or screws, wrapped in a non-woven polyethylene shade that resembles paper. The shade changes appearance depending on where you stand and how high the lamp is hung, hiding the light source while casting illumination outward. The effect is of something simultaneously fixed and alive. Even the name — spelled with a y rather than the botanical i — quietly marks the distance between nature and the objects we make in its image.
Producing a single Begonya takes up to seven hours of labor, a figure that would seem extravagant in most manufacturing contexts but sits comfortably within Carl Hansen & Søn's operating logic. The company makes nearly all its products in Denmark, mostly by hand, at a moment when rising wages have driven most competitors elsewhere. CEO Knud Erik Hansen, the third-generation owner, frames the choice in almost evolutionary terms: the sensibility carried in a craftsperson's hand, shaped by millions of years of human development, is simply not something a machine can replicate.
The company's factory on the island of Funen employs around 500 people and functions as much as an academy as a production facility, running intensive training programs for new craftspeople each year. Because handwork is physically demanding, the factory also provides on-site physiotherapy and morning warm-up sessions.
Begonya made its debut inside "Balanced Principles," an exhibition at the brand's Copenhagen flagship that ran June 10 to 12, placing the new lamp in dialogue with a 1963 sculptural chair newly returned to production, a translucent bone-china pendant from 1982, and a freshly upholstered version of the iconic Wishbone chair. In that company, Begonya read as both arrival and inheritance — the latest object in a long negotiation between the intimacy of the cabinetmaker's workshop and the demands of reaching the world without losing what made the work worth reaching for.
At the 3daysofdesign festival in Copenhagen this June, Carl Hansen & Søn introduced Begonya, a pendant lamp that distills the company's entire design philosophy into a single object. The designer, Øivind Slaatto, a Copenhagen-based creator who spent his early career working on industrial and audio products before turning to lighting, drew his initial inspiration from fire—specifically from the mesmerizing way flames shift and flicker, never quite the same from one moment to the next.
The challenge was translating that visual restlessness into a functional lamp. Slaatto engineered a complex mathematical structure wrapped in a non-woven polyethylene material that resembles paper, creating a shade whose appearance changes depending on where you stand and how high it hangs. The effect is deliberate: the lamp feels alive because it appears both fixed and in motion, much like fire or water. Even the name carries this duality—spelled "Begonya" with a y instead of the botanical "begonia," a small gesture toward the fusion of nature and artifice that the object embodies.
Beneath the translucent dress sits an aluminum skeleton, finished in warm gold, assembled through 168 precisely engineered joints that hold the frame together without glue or screws. The shade itself hides the light source while directing illumination outward, avoiding the glare that would undermine the effect. Making a single lamp takes up to seven hours of labor—an extraordinary investment for what might be called industrial production, yet entirely consistent with how Carl Hansen & Søn operates.
The company manufactures nearly all its products in Denmark, mostly by hand, at a time when Danish artisanal work is becoming increasingly rare. High wages push many manufacturers elsewhere, but Carl Hansen & Søn has chosen differently. Knud Erik Hansen, the company's CEO and third-generation owner, frames the decision philosophically: if the movement of a human hand sanding wood carries the imprint of millions of years of evolution, how could a machine ever replicate that sensibility? The company's factory on the Danish island of Funen employs around 500 people and operates not just as a production facility but as an academy, training new craftspeople each year through intensive programs. Because handwork is physically demanding, the company provides on-site physiotherapy and morning warm-up sessions to prevent injury.
Begonya debuted inside "Balanced Principles," an exhibition at the brand's flagship store that ran from June 10 to 12, staging a conversation between historical pieces and new designs. Alongside Begonya were the Scimitar Chair, a sculptural 1963 design by Fabricius & Kastholm newly returned to production; the Porcelight, a delicate bone-china pendant from 1982 by Erik Magnussen that uses the material's translucency to create soft diffused light; and a new leather-upholstered version of the iconic Wishbone chair. What makes Begonya particularly resonant in this context is how completely it compresses the company's central tension into a single object—the perpetual negotiation between the artisanal work of the cabinetmaker and the demands of producing at international scale without losing what made the work valuable in the first place.
Notable Quotes
If the movement of a human hand while sanding wood is the way it is because of millions of years of evolution, how could a machine replicate its sensibility?— Knud Erik Hansen, CEO and third-generation owner of Carl Hansen & Søn
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does a lamp that takes seven hours to make matter? Isn't that economically irrational?
Only if you measure value purely through labor cost. Carl Hansen & Søn is betting that people will pay for an object that carries genuine human skill—that the seven hours isn't waste, it's the point.
But the mathematical structure, the 168 joints—that sounds like it could be automated.
It could be. But Slaatto's insight was that the unpredictability, the aliveness of the lamp, comes from how a human hand assembles something so precise. A machine would be perfect. A human hand introduces variation that makes it feel natural.
The name, Begonya instead of begonia—is that just wordplay?
It's a statement. The lamp is inspired by nature but made through mathematics and industrial materials. The misspelling holds both things at once, refuses to choose between them.
How does a company survive when everyone else moved production to cheaper countries?
By convincing people that heritage and handwork are worth the price. They're not competing on cost. They're competing on meaning—on the idea that your chair or lamp carries the weight of generations of Danish craftsmanship.
And the training academy—is that sustainable?
That's the real question. They're investing in a skill that's becoming scarce. If it works, they've secured their future. If it doesn't, they're training people for a world that may not value what they're learning.