GamFratesi brings Scandinavian softness to Warsaw’s Old Town with a tactile, understated interior for PURO Hotel.
On Canaletta Street, where the name itself gestures toward an imagined Warsaw, meticulously reconstructed from the ruins of war through the eyes of painters, PURO Warsaw Old Town Hotel emerges, not as a monument, but as a murmur. Just steps from the National Opera and Saski Park, the hotel embodies a carefully orchestrated discretion. Designed in full by Copenhagen-based studio GamFratesi, the project carries the assured whisper of architecture that knows its place within the narrative of a city still in quiet reconstruction.
GamFratesi’s architecture for PURO doesn’t push into the foreground—it slides into the cadence of Warsaw’s old town with a Nordic lightness. From travertine thresholds to long, timber-lined corridors, the building is a study in continuity and material humility. The practice’s rare oversight of both architectural and interior design ensures that there’s no rupture between shell and soul. The public ground floor spaces flow with a rhythmic, almost domestic grace, anchored by MUND—a hybrid restaurant-bakery-wine bar that feels less like a venue and more like a thoughtfully arranged living room.
In typical GamFratesi fashion, the interiors abstain from spectacle. Wooden flooring by Dinesen sets the tone—quiet, continuous, and deeply tactile. Furniture is either custom-made or hand-selected from a pantheon of Scandinavian masters, including Carl Hansen & Son, Louis Poulsen, and Gubi, each piece a deliberate presence. Handmade bricks, Danish woods, and stone surfaces evoke a craftsmanship that resists trendiness. Here, aging is not decay but narrative.
The 192 guest rooms avoid theatricality. Instead, they speak a refined vernacular of wood, travertine, and textile. Some are structured like mini-apartments, others more monastic in scale. Yet all embrace a calm modernism where function and intimacy coexist. There are no “Instagram moments” here—only nuanced environments that allow for pause, for lingering. Even the bathrooms—outfitted with gold-framed mirrors and deep soaking tubs—feel more like quiet retreats than luxury statements.
Art in the hotel is not decorative garnish. Integrated works by Karolina Bielawska, Agata Bogacka, and Cyryl Polaczek sit in dialogue with the interior architecture. Swedish artist Ferdinand Evaldsson’s wall reliefs act as spatial punctuation marks—subtle but grounding. These are not artworks chosen for branding or photogenic potential, but for their capacity to resonate quietly within a material language of restraint.
Even as the hotel expands into conference spaces, a gym, and a spa, the rhythm remains unbroken. There is no hierarchy of design across the program; the same considered material palette and spatial choreography extend through every level.
