
For nearly a decade, passers-by in cities across Sweden—and eventually across the world—have stumbled upon mysterious miniature shops, restaurants, and homes tucked into building façades or perched on kerbsides, as though a community of well-organised mice had set up shop parallel to human life. The creators of these elaborate and often cheeky installations remained anonymous until earlier this year.
Now, the Swedish street art collective known as “Anonymouse” has not only revealed their identities but has also brought their miniature marvels into the light—via a new museum exhibition in Lund.
The art collective, often dubbed “Banksy Mouse” by Swedish media, consists of Elin Westerholm and Lupus Nensén—both professionals in the world of film and television production. Their journey began in 2016 after a trip to Paris’s Montmartre district, where the pair found themselves inspired by the whimsical elegance of Art Nouveau. Six months later, their first mouse-sized restaurant, Il Topolino, opened its doors—not in real life, but secretly installed along Bergsgatan in Malmö under the cover of night.
It didn’t take long for the installation to go viral. Crowds gathered to admire the tiny eatery and its neighbouring nut delicatessen, Noix de Vie, snapping photos and sharing them widely online. The project soon attracted attention beyond Sweden, with new mouse establishments springing up across the UK and Canada—including a castle on the Isle of Man and a tiny radio studio in Quebec.
Each installation was crafted with painstaking detail and a wry sense of humour. The 2020 record shop Ricotta Records in Lund, for example, featured custom-designed record sleeves for fictional mouse pop stars: Back to Brie by Amy Winemouse and Goodbye Yellow Cheese Roll by Stilton John.
“We spent a lot of time coming up with mice and cheese puns over the years,” said Nensén, acknowledging the intentionally absurd nature of their art. “Part of the game is taking something that’s a bit dumb really seriously.”
The works invite playfulness but are constructed with the same precision and dedication as full-scale film props. It’s no surprise, given both artists’ backgrounds in set and model-making. More than just clever visual jokes, the pieces have struck a chord across generations. “It’s amazing to see a 70-year-old come over with crutches, and people help them down and have a look,” said Nensén. “It really does bring out the child in everyone.”
Now, for the first time, six of these whimsical worlds are on public display at the Skissernas Museum in Lund, just a short train ride from Malmö. The exhibit includes original sketches, mock-ups, and archive materials, offering visitors a rare behind-the-scenes glimpse into how these tiny scenes were made.
Curator Emil Nilsson said the show was designed to recreate the sense of wonder and surprise that once defined the project. “They are hidden, they are not in common areas where you would expect an artwork. There’s one in the basement, one on a balcony, and so on,” he said. “I hope visitors take away a sense of adventure when they enter the museum looking for these hidden miniature worlds.”
Despite the fanfare, the exhibition also marks the end of an era. Westerholm and Nensén have announced that their mouse-building adventures are officially over. After nine years and dozens of installations, they’re closing the chapter on Anonymouse.
“It’s been nine years,” said Westerholm. “It’s time to end it, I think.”
Still, the pair remain cagey about whether their miniature art days are truly behind them. “We never know, we can’t promise anything,” Westerholm added.
The Anonymouse exhibition at Skissernas Museum runs until late August, offering one last chance to spot these hidden gems—now safely indoors, but no less magical.