The PH Artichoke: Poul Henningsen's Pendant for Langelinie

Thirty Years of Preparation

Henningsen first encountered electric light as a boy in 1907, and taming it became the through-line of his working life. By 1926 he had developed his three-shade system, layering shades so that light reached the eye softly and the bulb itself stayed hidden. Every major PH design for Louis Poulsen grew out of that one conviction.

The direct ancestor of the Artichoke is the PH Septima, developed around 1927 to 1931: a pendant of seven glass shades, clear sections alternating with sandblasted ones. Wartime material shortages ended Septima production in 1940, but the layered logic stayed with him. When the Langelinie brief arrived nearly two decades later, he rebuilt that idea in metal, and 1958 became the most productive year of his career, producing the Artichoke and the PH 5 side by side.

72 Leaves, 12 Rows, No Visible Bulb

The pendant carries 72 metal leaves arranged in 12 precise rows of six, and each leaf is still mounted by hand in Denmark. The rows are staggered so the light source cannot be seen from any angle, standing, seated, or climbing a stair beneath it. Light strikes the surface of one leaf and is redirected onto the leaves below, so the glow the room receives is entirely reflected, both inward through the body of the fixture and outward into the space.

That geometry gives the Artichoke a different character at every distance. Across a room it reads as a single luminous form. Up close, the gaps between the rows produce alternating bands of light and shadow that shift as you move around it, which is why the fixture rewards placement where people circulate rather than a corner nobody passes. See the PH Artichoke finishes and sizes we carry.

From Copper and Pale Rose to Dusty Green

The 1958 original was copper on the outside with a pale rose interior. The rose tint was practical before it was pretty: bulbs of the era cast a harsh light, and the hue on the inner face of each leaf warmed it on its way out. Louis Poulsen has returned to that pairing in commemorative editions over the years, a quiet acknowledgment of how well Henningsen understood colour as a lighting tool.

Today the Artichoke comes in copper, brass, and stainless steel, in painted black and white, and in dusty green paired with either a chrome or brass frame. The metals behave like the original: copper and brass warm every ray they reflect, while stainless steel keeps the light cool and reads sharpest in contemporary rooms. The painted versions bring the fixture into spaces a metallic finish would dominate, with black turning the form graphic and white letting the layered shadow between the leaves do the talking. The dusty green is the newest addition, a muted colour that reads as soft sculpture during the day and disappears behind the glow at night.

Sizes run from 18.9" in diameter, scaled for a dining table, up to 33.1" for double-height architecture, with 23.6" and 28.3" between them.

The Glass Version, Closer to the Original Idea

In 2008, Louis Poulsen launched the PH Artichoke Glass, with all 72 leaves in handmade sandblasted glass. Henningsen grouped the shades of the original into what he called picket fences, and the glass edition brings the design back toward the Septima that started it all. The light diffuses through the leaves rather than reflecting off them, so the whole body glows softly instead of gleaming.

Switched on or off, the glass leaves have a transparent, ice-like quality that gives the fixture a lightness the metal versions trade for warmth. The assembly is specialized enough that Louis Poulsen sends a trained technician to install the leaves on site, anywhere in the world. That is how seriously the company takes the precision of those 72 positions.

Where the Artichoke Belongs

The Artichoke was designed for a room where people linger for hours, and that remains its natural habitat. At home, that means the dining table in a room with ceiling height to spare, the two-storey foyer of a new build, or an open stairwell where the fixture can be seen from above, below, and eye level in a single descent. It wants air around it on all sides, since the form is fully three-dimensional and every viewing angle was calculated.

The same logic carries into commercial space. A grand lobby gives the largest sizes the vertical volume they were engineered for, and the fixture holds a room full of movement because it presents a finished face in every direction. In a boardroom or meeting area, the glare-free light earns its keep: people sit under it for long stretches, often facing each other across a table, and nobody catches a bare bulb in their sightline. Hotels and restaurants have understood this since 1958, which is why the Artichoke keeps showing up wherever a space needs one object to declare the room's ambition.

Sixty-eight years on, the original commission still holds. Diners at the Langelinie Pavilion sit under the same Artichokes today, and the fixture has since made its way into ceiling lighting installations from Copenhagen to Oslo to Canadian dining rooms. Few pieces get to prove themselves in the exact room they were built for, decade after decade, while the restaurant around them changes.