The move from Brunkebergstorg to Sveavägen signaled a new chapter for the young institution – and a great responsibility for Ivar Tengbom. Here, the ambitions of the education would take physical form. The school was meant to inspire confidence, stand firmly in its time, and signal both seriousness and international presence. Tengbom saw architecture as a way to show the way forward. The new building became more than a school. It became a silent, yet clear, expression of faith in the future.

Renaissance inspiration with a Swedish sensibility

The design drew inspiration from Florentine palaces, with a tripartite façade – base, middle, and crown – giving the building rhythm and stability. However, Ivar was no nostalgist. He wanted to interpret, not copy. By carefully selecting materials and proportions, he found balance between the classical and the contemporary. Accordingly, the façade was built in brown-red Helsingborg brick with details in sandstone, limestone, and black granite. Furthermore, the column arcades on the corners and the monumental portal with limestone intarsia create a solemn entrance: sober yet welcoming.

An environment for future leaders

The interior carries the same thought: uniting tradition with function. With its dark wooden panels and tall windows, the auditorium remains one of the highlights of the building. Everything from furniture to lighting was carefully selected to create an environment that fosters concentration and respect for knowledge. Tengbom knew that the environment shapes behavior. Here, he wanted to establish a place that would form not only academics, but also future leaders.

Echoes of Florence – with roots in Swedish granite

A house that holds both history and future

Perhaps the building’s most striking feature – the bay window and dome facing Observatorielunden – speaks volumes about Tengbom’s sense of spatiality. The cylindrical auditorium, flanked by Doric columns, seats 300 listeners. It is a solemn space where light, acoustics, and materials meet in careful balance. Above the auditorium rises the library’s book tower with four circular floors inside the dome. Custom-designed bookshelves and study spaces with views of the city contribute to an environment where knowledge can grow in multiple directions at once. The spiral staircase linking the floors reinforces the sense of moving through a microcosm of concentrated study.

Respectful extensions

Over the years, the building has been developed, always with respect for the original. Over the years, architects have extended the building — always with respect for the original. In the 1970s, architect Åke Ahlström (1918–2001) added a new southern wing. Then in 1976, a western wing took shape toward the northern part of Saltmätargatan. This extension brought in a modern auditorium and the technically advanced KAW lecture halls. Interestingly, Tengbom also designed this addition — now under the name Tengbom Architects, Sweden’s oldest architectural office and a direct continuation of the practice Ivar Tengbom founded in 1906. That the same office shaped both the original and its later development nearly a century apart says something rare. It shows how architecture can become a conversation across generations — built not just in brick and wood, but in ideas.

Between tradition and progress

Although the Stockholm School of Economics is often associated with classicism, Tengbom’s interpretation is far from dogmatic. He worked in a time of change. Functionalism was just around the corner, and in the tension between the tried-and-true and the new, he found the building’s particular strength. Today, the Stockholm School of Economics remains one of Tengbom’s most significant works. A building that did not choose between past and future, but held both in its hand.