The Nordics • See & do • Review: Ravinen Kulturhus in Båstad, Sweden
It’s not every day an art centre lands on a windswept hillside and gets it exactly right. Ravinen Kulturhus, tucked between Norrviken’s gardens and the sea in Båstad, is just that – a place where contemporary art meets sky, salt air and sharp Nordic architecture. Designed by Möller Arkitekter, it houses exhibitions, concerts, a proper bistro and café – and views for days. The idea was dreamt up decades ago by local artists Ulla and Gustav Kraitz. Now it’s one of the most distinctive stops on the Bjäre Peninsula.
Ravinen Kulturhus is anchored by a very specific vision – one shaped over decades by artists Ulla and Gustav Kraitz. The goal was never to create a white-cube gallery or an echo chamber of contemporary trends. It was to build a place where serious art could meet the public on open terms, surrounded by nature, designed for return visits.
The programme is broad but precise. Tal R’s ‘Weather Report opened the 2024 season with charged, expressive colour and dreamlike energy. That was followed by a luminous, widely visited exhibition by Lars Lerin – Sweden’s most beloved watercolourist. Next came Palace Garden, a contemporary glass show featuring Åsa Jungnelius, Markus Åkesson and Bertil Vallien. In 2025, the focus shifted again: from the Schyl collection of avant-garde international works to the raw, inverted intimacy of Charlotte Gyllenhammar’s sculpture and video. It’s a mix of materials, voices and scales – but there’s always a seriousness behind the selection.
What ties it together is the feeling that Ravinen speaks both locally and internationally. The audience is design-aware, culturally engaged, often returning. Families with sketchpads. Retired art teachers. Groups of children who make use of the creative workshop. Curious travellers who’ve rented a car and gone slightly off course. The building invites this kind of visitor – someone who comes for an hour and ends up staying the day.
We found it small enough to delve deep, but just large enough to impress and inspire. There’s a clarity to the experience – from room to room, artist to idea – that makes it easy to connect with.
We visited on a bright April morning. The main hall – vast, high-ceilinged, reverberant – seemed to swallow light and artwork alike. But not in a bad way. The architecture allows the pieces room to breathe. The exhibition Gärna Avantgardistisk Konst – drawn from the Schyl donation and curated by Sune Nordgren – opened with a standout: Jules Schyl’s dandified self-portrait, witty and sharp. On the same wall, a textured Per Kirkeby loomed, full of layered tension.
Jules and Karin Schyl were collectors with a clear curatorial sensibility. Their collection – held by Malmö Konsthall – is now presented in a new context at Ravinen. The title Gärna Avantgardistisk Konst (preferably avant-garde art in English) is drawn from their own words, and the selection leans into that preference with insistence. The roll call reads like a precise survey of postwar materialism and form: Donald Baechler, Antony Gormley, Imi Knoebel, Victor Vasarely, Andres Serrano and Gilbert & George, to name a few – all speaking in different registers. The show asks you to look longer, think harder. And it rewards that effort.
In the second gallery, the tone shifted. Narrower and lined with floor-to-ceiling glass, it offered a conversation between art and nature. The framing of the Kattegatt strait through bare tree branches felt intentional. Works by Leon Tarasewicz, Richard Long, Bjørn-Sigurd Tufta and Olav Christopher Jenssen played with organic forms and earthy textures, grounding the room in its setting. For a moment, the view became part of the art.
Next to the main galleries, the Kraitz hall turned the mood again. A quieter room with a different gravity, it offered a look into the lives and work of Ravinen’s founding couple, Ulla and Gustav Kraitz. Sculptural pieces sat like anchors – weighty, fired, resolved – while vitrines of photographs and sketches grounded their international practice in the soil of Skåne. Their work with glazes, casting and high-temperature wood firing reveals a long commitment to craft and symbolism, with recurring forms drawn from nature: embryos, seeds, pods, stones. The exhibition coincides with the release of a new monograph on their decades-long collaboration.
Outside, toward the water, the beginnings of a sculpture garden extend the experience. Still forming, but already promising something open-ended – like Ravinen itself.
Before leaving, we circled back to the museum shop – modest in size but tightly curated. The selection leans toward books, ceramics and design objects, many tied to current and past exhibitions. You’ll find works by the Kraitzs, but also newer names from the region – pieces that feel grounded, not gift-shop generic.
Then there was lunch – and it shouldn’t be skipped. Ravinen Café & Bistro, run by Head Chef John Moberg with Pastry Chef Eva Mattsson and Chef Petter Bratt, draws on Båstad’s growers, producers and even winemakers, leaning seasonal and unfussy. It’s a plate-by-plate reflection of the landscape outside – artfully done, without overreaching.
Just inside the gates of the Norrviken gardens, Ravinen Kulturhus appears almost understated – a low-slung structure with a logo that feels more Berlin than Bjäre. There’s a certain Nordic strictness to its silhouette, but step inside and the building changes character entirely.
Designed by Möller Arkitekter, the 1,500-square-metre space opens up in unexpected ways. The concrete walls never feel cold – softened by wood ceilings, natural light and thoughtful detailing.
The galleries are expansive, designed to let art, architecture and nature speak in tandem. Light pours in through windows that are framed like paintings themselves – drawing the eye outward. In some cases, temporary walls have been used not to block the view, but to create pause and rhythm. Artists have responded to the building’s openness with intention, adapting their displays to meet the space rather than compete with it.
Downstairs, the Birgit Nilsson-salen adds another dimension. Named after the world-renowned dramatic soprano who was born just minutes away, the hall hosts concerts, talks and performances throughout the year.
Nearby is a workshop for creative programmes, especially for young visitors, and a corridor leading out towards the sea and the sculpture park.
Skåne doesn’t try to compete with Sweden’s north or centre – it doesn’t need to. Down here, the land softens, the pace steadies and the Danish influence lingers in everything from dialect to architecture. The cities – Malmö, Lund and Helsingborg – carry their weight, but the real rhythm is rural: broad fields, Baltic light, beaches that stretch without interruption. Skåne feeds the rest of the country, literally. Seafood, root vegetables, berries, game – all of it shaped by a farm-to-table culture that predates the phrase. Art is quiet but present. Design leans functional. It’s not the Sweden of snow and fjäll. It’s something gentler. And far more interesting than it lets on.
Photography courtesy of Lasse Olsson, Adrian Bugge, Ateljé Lena and Ravinen Kulturhus
Urban
Rural
Trendy
Classic
Happening
Serene
Affordable
Lavish
Share this
Photography courtesy of Lasse Olsson, Adrian Bugge, Ateljé Lena and Ravinen Kulturhus
Urban
Rural
Trendy
Classic
Happening
Serene
Affordable
Lavish