A Candy-Colored World of Glass

Words Tom BarkerImages Chris Abatzis

Fun and playful are Helle Mardahl’s first two words when I ask what her design philosophy is in three words. And when you look at her shiny, amorphous creations, you can see why.

One peachy pink cup curves inward at the top, dented by a molten orange ball attached to its rim; a tall curved vessel’s mint green body is contrasted by a rhubarb-hued blob that acts as its lid; a long amber lampshade is shaped like a waterdrop, dropping from the bulb inside it. These fantastical glass objects make up Helle Mardahl’s multicolored product selection. Or, to use the vocabulary of her studio, they’re the “candy” in a “conceptual candy universe of magic, dreams, and indulgence.”

With their glossy, pastel sheen, it’s easy to imagine Helle Mardahl’s glassware as oversized confectionery—especially her signature “Bon Bon” line, where artful jars and bowls take on the round shape of hard candy. However, no matter how whimsical and colorful an object appears, it is made through traditional, masterful modes of production. Hence, the third word Helle Mardahl uses for her design philosophy is “sophisticated.”

Glassblowing is an ancient craft stretching back thousands of years, where simple tools create complex objects shaped by its makers’ hands (and breath). Experienced glassblowers typically bring Helle’s fantastical ideas to life and give each object a unique character, but she’s recently embarked on a project using a different material: Play-Doh compound. 

“So much of it mirrors how I work with glass. You shape it, it goes into the oven, it’s hot, and then it cools,” she says. “You cut it, you can squish it, and as a child you might even try to eat it.” The fruits of her labor are an installation inspired by Hasbro’s Blooms by Play-Doh line, presented at Miami Art Week for Designed to Play, a multi-day program hosted by Design Hotels and The Shelborne By Proper. We caught up with her ahead of the exhibition to talk about the delicate art of glassblowing, stereotypes about Scandinavian design, and Charlie & The Chocolate Factory.

You started your career in fashion before expanding into fine art and glassmaking. When did you start really embracing color?

I grew up in a very architectural, white home, so color isn’t something rooted in my childhood. I discovered it while studying at Central Saint Martins, and there was something rebellious about it. By 2003, color was part of my fashion collections, and I loved exploring how they mix and what they can do together. When I moved into glass, color slowly found its way in, and that has grown ever since.

Scandinavian design is often categorized as minimal and stark. Do you feel like that’s a misconception? And how does your work relate to that stereotype?

I don’t think it’s a misconception. There’s a strong tradition of minimalism in Scandinavian design, and I grew up in this universe. But there’s room for much more than that, and for me there was always something rebellious in wanting to do things differently. I’ve always wanted to create my own space instead of following a set path.

I’m inspired by the whole world, not just the Scandinavian tradition. My work connects to Scandinavian design in the focus on quality, good craftsmanship, and innovation. Every piece is made with great care, and I see playfulness as a way to add something new to that tradition. My work is luxurious and a little unexpected, but craftsmanship is always at its core.

Alice in Wonderland and Charlie & The Chocolate Factory are among your inspirations. What stayed with you from those films?

The fantasy they create. It’s whimsical and fun, but there’s also something slightly cynical and dark underneath. I love that unreal, surreal quality, where you have to relate to the absurd. That’s something I embrace and something I both live by and keep looking for.

In those worlds, color feels completely natural. It plays with the senses, with desire, and with life itself. Colors also tell a story about feelings and moods, and it doesn’t have to make sense, it can be abstract. I’ve always been very observant, taking everything in, and those films opened a door to a world where anything is possible.

Why does glass fascinate you?

Colors emerge and develop organically while glassmaking, constantly shifting and evolving. There’s a natural depth to the material, where this interplay of light, texture, and color makes each piece feel alive.

Glass also speaks to the senses. It catches the light, changes as you move around it, and makes you want to reach out and touch it, almost eat it.

Blowing glass is such a delicate art. Tell me about the artisans you work with and the results that this brings.

Glassblowing takes years to master, and I’m lucky to work with skilled artisans. It’s a true collaboration where I bring ideas, and they bring them to life. After all these years, they can read my mind. Every piece is mouth-blown and shaped by hand, so small variations in color, thickness, and form are part of the process, I see them as the signature of the hand that made it. That’s what gives each piece its life and character.

You’re working with a very different material for Designed to Play. What memories do you have of using Play-Doh compound?

My memories are mostly of sitting with my children when they were little. I remember the feeling of it, the soft texture, the bright colors, the smell, and that sense of being completely absorbed in making something. That pure joy is something I wanted to bring into this project.

What’s something every adult could learn from the way children behave?

Children aren’t set in their ways. They’re open to new things, curious, and fearless. They don’t decide beforehand what something should be or whether it makes sense. I think we could learn a lot from that as adults: to meet the world with the same openness and dare to be surprised.

I see it in my work, too. Playfulness reaches everyone, whatever the age. That childlike joy is still in all of us. Sometimes it just needs a little color to bring it out.