Ali Gallefoss

Ali lives in the centre of Oslo with his girlfriend and 7-month-old son. The apartment is in an old building, with wide generous staircases. We note that this is the roomiest entrance we’ve ever observed in Oslo, the kind no new-build would spare precious square metres for in the same way. The staircase leaves room for togetherness and meeting points for its inhabitants, it even houses a self-serve library.

Inside, the young family’s apartment has a spacious living room and bedroom, with smaller a bathroom and kitchen. The living room is painted in an inviting yellow and is filled with his own art, and objects he has exchanged with artist friends. The pine floor is covered with a vast carpet that fills the space, something they bought at an Bukowski’s auction and drove all the way to Stockholm and back just to pick up. On top of it sits a classic leather sofa and Gravity™ in an unapologetic green.

It was in no way was evident when Ali Gallefoss was younger that he would end up as a designer and artist. Ali was working at the high-fashion store Vincci in Bergen when a colleague encouraged him to apply to art school. Having felt he'd accomplished what he set out to in retail, he longed for something more, something creative, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what that was.

Soon enough, he found himself immersed in an entirely new environment, at the Bergen Academy of Art and Design. “It all began in the workshop for me. That’s where I could really play with materials, especially clay, which was perfect because I could do it alone, without anyone else having to be around. I could lose myself there for hours.” As he delved into materials, he began to drift away from function and towards more artistic expressions. His teachers were often taken aback by his more unconventional projects. “Since I was studying art through a design lens, everything had to be somewhat functional,” he explains. “But if I hadn’t had that design foundation, I probably would’ve ended up creating something purely sculptural.”

When Ali continued his studies with an MA at the Academy of Arts in Oslo, his work started gaining attention. There, he had to choose between interior architecture or furniture design. He chose the latter, a decision that shaped the trajectory of his career.

“What’s interesting about the field is that you can get a job as an interior architect,” he notes. “It pays well, and while it’s not necessarily easy, you’ll find a job if the market’s good. But as a furniture designer, even the best of them, the ones who've really built careers, it’s still a small circle compared to the global scene. You can make a living, but establishing yourself takes enormous work. So, the question many are faced with is whether to take a safer route as an interior architect, or step into extreme uncertainty as an independent designer.”

For Ali, the choice was clear, he was drawn to the art world. “That’s where my interests and references come from. I’m inspired by architecture, nature, infrastructure - sometimes it’s not direct or conscious, but more as impressions I’ve absorbed over time. These impressions often become the starting point for my work with materials.” Ali describes himself as a material-based artist, without limiting himself to one medium. “I work with all kinds of materials. Some pieces are metal, some ceramics, and I’m always exploring new possibilities.”

Today, Ali has firmly established himself as one of the most exciting new names in Norwegian art and design. With several international exhibitions and multiple recognitions, including Bo Bedre’s Design-Award for Best Newcomer and International Achievement of the Year. However, he’s careful not to be confined by success. “It’s easy to get swept up in the momentum when something’s working,” he says. “You think, this is selling well, let’s keep doing it. But that’s not my motivation. The ideal, for me, is to simply follow what I’m drawn to, when I feel it. And that’s a privilege I’m aware of.”

He acknowledges the pressures of commercial success but remains committed to his artistic vision. “The smartest thing you can do as an artist is not to sell anything, because that way you retain full control. Once something becomes a commercial hit, it brings pressure. There have been pieces in my practice that were more product-like, and while they made sense at the time, I wouldn’t make them today.”

Sometimes, there’s a quiet question lingering in the back of his mind: why do people buy art? "Is it because they truly connect with it, or because they see it as an investment? “In Norway, it often seems like buying art is treated more like buying an apartment, an investment, something you hope will increase in value. The second something’s a bit strange or unfamiliar, people hesitate. If they can’t imagine reselling it later, it’s suddenly not appealing anymore. But that’s okay and I’ve made peace with that. When the timing is right, the right people find their way to the work.”

Ali’s approach isn’t about following trends. “If I were thinking strategically, I’d just repeat what works, maybe change the color, but keep the same visual language. It’s easier for people to connect with something they see repeatedly."

" If I make 100 sculptures, people are more willing to pay because it feels like a shared thing. They can say, “I’ve got one of those too.” Whereas if it’s just a single piece, it’s rarer—there’s no built-in connection between people. But that’s not how I work.”

His work thrives on contrast, moving away from the familiar “softness” of Scandinavian design. “Everything’s beige and calm, but it can get boring if you look at it too long. People will want a break from that, with some color and friction.”