-By Jennifer Thiele Busch, Photography by Jan Erik Svendsen

The seaport of Kirkenes, in the Barents region of Northern Norway near the Norwegian/Russian border, is an unlikely spot for a "boutique" hotel, but Finnish artist/architect Sami Rintala has provided one—of sorts—to this remote town of 3,300 residents. In 2004, Rintala was commissioned to design an artwork for the center of the town, but preferred to express art as architecture. "Having thought about it for a while, I said I wished to create something useful instead," says Rintala. "In my view the seamen, fishermen, hunters, hikers, and fortune seekers flowing through the town need a place to rest for the night that would suit their economy, which changes like the weather. I suggested building a hotel by the sea."

The suggestion created mixed feelings, admits Rintala, because the time allotted for construction was only 10 days and the budget was limited. "I specified that this would be a very small hotel," he laughs. Ultimately, the town agreed to accept the risk, and Rintala and three architecture students designed the Kirkenes Hotel and saw it built in just 10 days, for $10,000. Since its opening in 2005, guests of the hotel have included as diverse a group as the Prime Minister of Norway, a contingent of Russian artists, and some hearty young backpackers.

Rintala's design concept turns today's idea of a small, custom-designed hotel on its ear. "All unnecessary luxury would be eliminated: no satellite channels, minibar, or brass doorknobs," he explains. "The idea simply would be based on a warm shelter and a view out to the Barents Sea. A person spending the night in a room would still feel that he or she was in Kirkenes. Anyone who has had to spend many nights in hotels knows that slight feeling of alienation upon entering a hotel room; it could be anywhere in the world, and the connection to the surrounding reality is severed."

Rintala has, in fact, dedicated his Oslo-based practice to just such design challenges, preferring to work in remote areas—on what he calls the "edge" of civilization—and for people whom he finds to be much more open than urban dwellers to new architectural ideas that reflect their values, culture, and way of life. The natural beauty of the Barents region informed the choice of the simple materials and color palette: the timber construction is typical of the other buildings in the area; the dark painted exterior responds to the dark rock of the Barents Sea shoreline, while the goal of the light painted wood interior was to maximize the impression of size and light. Kirkenes is on the cusp of those Northern areas that plunge into darkness for half of the year and never lose daylight for the other half.

And though the hotel's small size—it consists of two guest rooms and a lobby heated by a wood-burning stove—was mostly dictated by budgetary issues, Rintala sees it as entirely representative of its locale. "This small city hotel symbolizes the city itself, on the last point of land facing toward Russia," he says. He deliberately turned the structure's back on the city's main road running right behind the site, favoring, of course, the spectacular views of the Barents Sea, the whales that inhabit those waters, the Russian fishing vessels that regularly visit the seaport, the country of Russia to the right, and the occasional Russian submarine sighting. "There was no need for curtains," adds Rintala, "since the closest neighbor is in Alaska."

With the Kirkenes Hotel and much of his other work in places as far flung as Inner Mongolia and China, Rintala strives to demonstrate that architecture realized outside the mainstream of the mass production line can be cost-effective and result in better, more site-specific solutions. Though his office is in Oslo, he prefers to work and spend his personal time in remote locations. "Nobody needs me in the city," he observes. "In the city, you don't even see how things change. And the biggest problems are often in remote places where there is a need and openness to something different. In these areas I tend to meet people with all different types of knowledge. I learn from them, and then I give them something back." The Hotel Kirkenes was essentially an art installation that Rintala never intended to be permanent; but apparently it is a gift that the city wants to keep.