Where are you right now? I mean physically… Where are you sitting as you read this? An office? A library? A coffee shop? Are you reading this in the comfort of your own home? Perhaps your bedroom?
Look around and pay attention to the space you occupy in this moment. What surrounds you? Is it walls? Is it desks? Is it desks and chairs? Is it books? Countertops and cabinets?
Now ask yourself… How do you feel?
While you ponder that thought, I will tell you where I am and how I feel.
I am currently writing to you from my university’s computer lab. Grey desks fill the room, with iMacs on top accompanied by a thin keyboard. The tables and swivel chairs are set up in five rows. There are three walls, front, back, and left — all painted white. Rather than a wall, the right hand side is an entire ceiling-to-floor window. A large ray of sunlight gleams into the room kissing my right cheek. The mundane presence of dust in the air emphasizes the serenity in the room. (So far, this has been a sensory experience). I see what is in front of me, I use the tools I need to complete my homework, all I smell in the air are subtle notes of the coffee that accompanies me beside the computer, and I feel the warmth of the sun.
I feel good in this room. I am away from the noise — the noise of students, the stress of the students, and most importantly, I’m away from outside distractions.
I was recently hit with a reality check after watching Netflix’s Abstract. I learned that 87% of our lives are spent in buildings. — So how we feel and experience those spaces is important.
Our mood, our behaviour, and our feelings are all dependent of our surroundings.
The people in a room are just as important as the room itself. Let’s think about a corporate office for example. The boardroom is set up in such a way that puts authority at the head of the table while everyone else (the subordinates probably) gather around the table to listen to the person conducting the meeting or presentation. But do we flourish in these institutional settings? When it comes to good design, people and space go hand-in-hand. I could have spent these few hours writing in a silent study space at the library — a 3 minute walk from here. The students that occupy the library are expected to do their work quietly, or in silence, either at a desk, cubicle, or a couch. All of which are great. But I have to admit, the way the library is set up is kind of intimidating. The institutional set-up of the library immediately makes me feel pressured to do work because my peers are doing work. For some students, this set-up is great. It allows them to focus and be productive. Of course the goal is to be productive at the library, and it is an effective space to do so, but I would rather work from home, a coffee shop, or in a classroom to be quite honest.
Interesting isn’t it? How people behave differently in different spaces.
So the little thought experiment you did moments ago is actually what many contemporary architects and designers ask themselves before designing a space. Any good design process starts with the human experience.
Most people who are interested in any form of art are driven by curiosity. The discovery of a new world. I discover new worlds all the time. I take myself out on dates to the city to explore new worlds of art and culture at special events and exhibitions. I will discover a new world in the little Japanese restaurant in Kensington Market through the way it’s set up, the colours, the lighting, and ambience.
Design can allow for the discovery of a new world if applied with care and attention.
The notion of care and attention is the importance of the maintenance of relationships through the wellbeing of care-givers and care-receivers in a network of social relations.
Care is a practice.
Care is about the maintenance of the world, and meeting the needs of ourselves and others. Let’s think of the home. Home is a place of rituals, family, values, and care. Home is safe. It is a place where we can be alone, intimate, private, and quiet. Let me just say, living at home in my early twenties with my mom, dad, brother, and a new puppy can be a lot. I need my own space sometimes.
There are times where I need to reconnect with myself, my heart, and simply sit with my own thoughts.
This idea of retreat from people, distraction, noise, doesn’t have to be limited to our bedrooms. It should be accessible anywhere in the home. Ideally, this space is created for those who occupy it. Maybe you ditch the curtains and let the light flow in during the day. Maybe you paint your home a colour you feel the most comfortable and zen with. Fill your home with things that inspire you. Ideally, the home is yours and your family’s. Fill the bowl up with Apples and stack your favourite books in the hidden corner of the house next to the reading lamp and comfy couch.
However, if retreat outside the home is what you seek, then I can tell you about the lovely villa I stayed in this past May in the suburbs of Florence, Italy.
This villa was one that truly valued care in the space. This space was successful at integrating the experience of Florence with the design.
Transitional, but mostly modern furniture throughout the entirety of the apartment from the downstairs lounge to the stairs leading in our apartment. The kitchen was minimal — provided to us was a Caffettiera, stainless steel pots for pasta, and Ikea utensils and dinnerware.
The rooms for the bed and bath were modern as well. Bedsheets were grey or white.
There was an airiness to the room.
It felt breathable.
The tan hardwood floors reminded me of home. The staircase leading up to a loft bedroom above the main area of our room was the best. I forgot to mention how important material is when it comes to design. The contrast of the iron staircase with the soft linens, whites, and wood of the room was beautiful.
The rustic and eclectic staircase shelved books, old magazines like Italian Architectural Digest, and travel guides for Italian cities, Florence and Cinque Terre. The entire villa was super quaint and small.
My favourite element of this space was the combination of nostalgia and newness it provided for me. It was nostalgic in the materials they used — cake trays for cookies and desserts, bowls full of fruit on the coffee table, a tufted sofa, and bookshelves with cute artifacts and figurines — all things you may experience at an aunt or grandparents house. But it was new because I was in Italy of course. Little insertions of Italian culture were present in the room. There were Italian books and photographs used for both consumption and decoration.
Take a look at Villa Aruch below:
This villa made me feel calm and relaxed. It was a place of retreat. Yet, it also gave me memories — old ones from the objects that reminded me of old times and feelings — and new memories from the experience I was living as I was staying there for my travels. Villa Aruch, a place aware of the visitor’s wellbeing, was successful at making me feel better after I’d been there than when I arrived.
What I’m trying to say is… In a world full of noise, care in the contemporary design world can alter our values in how we experience our surroundings. The way we pay attention to what we eat, what we listen to, what we watch, should be as important as the objects that surround us. At the end of the day, it’s about our happiness and wellbeing.
I would love to hear how you use space. How has design made things better for you? Let me know your thoughts down below.
(Header Photo: Cathay Pacific Airport, The Pier Business Class Lounge designed by Studioilse, a London-based design studio led by Ilse Crawford. This lounge aims to create an atmosphere that makes passengers feel refreshed and at ease, engaging the sense and focusing on wellbeing.)
very artisanal 