Notes from the edge
A studio, a garden, and a curated life in Iceland
In the harbor town of Hafnarfjörður, just south of Reykjavík, there’s a converted garage that quietly stands apart. Inside, you’ll find shelves of hand-thrown ceramics, textiles, and a mix of objects that feel both personal and purposeful.
This is The Shed: part studio, part shop, and a reflection of the life actor/designer Anthony Bacigalupo has built living in Iceland over the past 15 years. It’s also become a kind of creative anchor in a town better known for fishing boats and lava fields than design stores.
Curated and curious, the space is a physical manifestation for Anthony’s life outlook: to making things by hand, for living with intention, and for finding warmth in a place where the weather comes at you sideways.
We visited on a grey afternoon – coffee in hand, cameras rolling – to document Anthony’s story.
First things first, how did you end up in Iceland?
ANTHONY BACIGALUPO
I was living in LA… and I just knew I wasn’t a city person. I grew up in a really small town, and wanted to find somewhere quieter. I originally came to Iceland to work on an art piece and just fell in love with the country. I decided to move here eventually in 2010.
What was the idea behind The Shed?
My wife, Ýr, and I bought this house in Hafnarfjörður — a pretty old one by Icelandic standards — and it had this garage out back.
I kept looking at this space thinking… what can we do with that? And at that time, I was starting to do more interior design work and needed a space to build and experiment. So it became a studio, for my wife and me to work from.
At the same time, people were always asking about the pieces in our spaces. Most of them were things we’d picked up in California or Mexico or Denmark. Things you couldn’t find in Iceland. So we thought, why not open it up? So, it took on a life as a store, and then we started doing events, concerts, and community stuff. The garden became a big part of it too.
How do you choose the pieces to feature in the store?
We've always been attracted to handmade items. Ceramics, wood, that kind of thing. And for me, not being from here, it’s about bringing my own style. Where I come from, I was used to seeing handmade leather pieces and ceramics, but also this kind of beachy-meets-Mexican vibe. That never really existed in Iceland.
Some of the pieces we bring in are produced in a way that gives back to the community in some way. That matters to us, because that’s the kind of thing we’re trying to do ourselves.
What matters to you when designing a space?
Whether it’s The Shed or our guesthouse, The Garden Cottage, the process is about making it personal. I always want to leave something behind in a space, even if it’s hidden from the guest or the viewer.
Maybe that comes from my art background. I studied photography and a little bit of design, but I ended up in acting. And what I love about acting isn’t just becoming a character, it’s creating a scene. Everything from the director to the cinematographer to the set design… I just love that world.
The Shed reflects that. Even if it’s storming outside, when you walk in, you feel like you’ve maybe stepped into California. Even though it’s just this old garage in our garden, in this tiny town in Iceland.
Tell us about your connection to the garden
Every tree, plant and flower, we’ve planted here ourselves. There was no garden when we bought the place. I always wanted to live in the countryside, to be surrounded by trees, so I thought: I’ll just make my own forest.
When we bought the property, the backyard was just lava rock. No soil. I asked my wife’s grandfather if I could borrow a pickaxe. 15 years later, I haven’t given it back. I dug up the whole garden with that thing, brought in soil, and planted trees. It was a process.
Now those trees have grown. They’ve made it through the seasons. And I guess I have too. In a weird way, it feels like I’ve taken root here. This is home.
How has your style changed since moving?
I’ve always had a love for fashion, for trying to be “original”. It’s funny, some of the same jackets and boots I wore back in California, I still wear now.
As I’ve gotten older, I try to find things that last. That I can pass down to my kids. Even if they don’t think it’s cool now, maybe they will later.
I get told I’m more fashion than function. People are like, 'You remember you live in Iceland, right?' But I’m not going to show up in seven puffy jackets. My style’s never been about big outerwear. I save that for walks or hikes. The rest of the time, I warm up with coffee.
What’s your take on made to order clothing?
What I like about Son of a Tailor is that you’re not buying too much. Everyone has this idea of a perfect minimalist life, and then ends up buying more to get there.
When you’re buying T-Shirts — which, let’s be honest, is what most guys wear every day — you want them to last. You want them to fit. Bodies change over time. A shirt that fit great a few years ago might not now. So it makes sense to have one that’s actually made for you.
Even the little things, like the custom embroidery, it’s just a nice touch. Like, this is mine. I’m going to wear this and wear it with pride.
And, finishing up where we started, was there a moment where you felt living here and The Shed all clicked?
Yeah. It was winter, and I’d decorated the garden – every tree, every light. Two women in their late 80s were walking by. One of them had tears in her eyes. Her daughter helped her translate and said: 'My mother grew up next door to your home. She wanted to come here and see everything you’ve done for the community. She said it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen in Iceland.
That stuck with me. I remember walking back into The Shed with a coffee and thinking, if what we’ve done here affects even just one person like that, it was worth it.
Further Reading
Inside two-Michelin-starred Kadeau
Designer Thomas Lykke on setting the scene for the culinary experience at the Copenhagen restaurant.