Tonfisk's "Warm" teapot and cups present an study in contrasts:
sleek, smooth ceramic and natural, almost rustic materials, such
as the bentwood "bracelets" which keep the contents war. Photo:
www.tonfisk.fi
OK, I confess. I’m guilty—of design obsession in the third degree.
So Helsinki was pure pleasure. There’s the gently curved marble expanse of Alvar Aalto’s Finlandia Hall. Its sinuous, wavy-sided tower looks amazing and creates splendid acoustics in the concert hall. (The form doesn’t exactly follow function, but you get the idea.)
Then there are the 600 stainless steel tubes of the Sibelious Monument, designed in the 1960’s by Eila Hiltunen. The clustered silvery pipes are suspended in mid-air: You can stick your head right up into the larger ones and hear a symphony of eerie musical vibrations. The pipes could almost be alive, quivering in the Baltic breezes.
But let’s get to the point: Some of Helsinki’s best design shops are to be found along the Esplanadi, the lush green park that begins just above Kauppatori Market at the harbor. There’s sleek glassware at Ittala, for instance, and at Artek, you can decide if you really like Alvar Aalto’s classic bentwood furniture. But I’m food obsessed and the coup de foudre came when I eyed Nicholas Uga’s gorgeous Mortelli O+ mortar and pestle. In black granite or white marble, the deep rounded bowl fits snugly into a scooped out block of wood—and the pestle fit my hand as if the two had been molded for each other. But mortars must be heavy to be properly grounded, and I could scarcely lift this one. Trying to haul it back to the boat would have been grounds for divorce—sadly, B was not raised in the school of “travel means lugging objects of desire in your hand luggage for thousands of miles, even when they weigh as much as a cast iron anvil.”
Oh, well. More portable were form-fitting t-shirts from Aarikka, a cheerful shop that displays jewelry, clothing and objects inspired by nature. I never ever buy t-shirts when I’m traveling but the Monument shirt was simply irresistible. Emblazoned across the bust are black silhouettes of five famous statues that exhibit “national values so precious to Finns.” These include the hammer-wielding Smiths (“work and cooperation”) and the Olympic gold medal runner Paavo Nurmi (“perseverance and sports”).
I could have skipped the fluorescently lit environs of Marimekko—all those bright poppies seemed a little weary—but up the block and around the corner at Design Forum Finland, I found nirvana in the shape of the Warm Teapot and cups designed by Tonfisk. This is one of the best modern tea sets ever. It even surpasses my Three Rules for a Perfect Teapot:
First it is pleasing to the eye and to the touch: The tall cream-colored ceramic teapot sits firmly in a laminated bentwood sleeve or “bracelet.” The lid is a weathered cork stopper that looks old and worn, yet fits snugly into the pot. It is a brilliant pairing of opposites: Smooth, sleek ceramic and natural, almost rustic materials. Both beg to be touched.
Second, although the teapot has no handle, it lifts and pours with ease. To pick it up, grasp the bentwood sleeve, which also shields your hand from the heat. The pot is light and nicely balanced. No dribbles, either.
And of course, it makes excellent tea. There’s a stainless steel mesh filter, big enough to hold two to three tablespoons of loose tea, without which you might as well just forget it and drink hot water. The wood sleeve helps to insulate the pot—hence the name. And, as long as you remove the sleeve—this does take some doing the first time or two—it’s dishwasher safe.
Tonfisk, which means “tuna fish,” is a design collective formed in 1999 by Tony Alstrom, a Finn, and Brian Keany, an Irishman, who met when studying at the University of Art and Design in Helsinki. Their cheeky motto is “Form follows function doesn’t mean all objects have to look the same.” The product line includes a sculptural Oma lemon squeezer and a chunky ceramic Kinos sushi set whose shape vaguely echoes that of the sushi.
Happiness. For the next 10 days I traipsed around the Baltic, through Finland and Sweden, in and out of customs, with a Warm teapot and two ceramic mugs in my trusty Longchamps bag. Now. here in the kitchen, it's the right pot for a cool autumn morning, perfect for brewing strong Winey Keemun from Grace Tea. And whenever I see it, I remember bright red strawberries and sea breezes setting Silbelious’s pipes to singing.
Naturally you don’t have to go to Finland to find the Warm teapot. Here’s a list of other sources. The memories, though, are mine.