For a long time, I’ve been the supporter and designer of biophilic design. I’ve been lucky to witness the evolution of this concept from a niche idea to a something-better-than-a-plot-point-in-a-Chick-Lit-novel concept in the world of architecture and interior design. One of the freshest things I’ve seen lately is a wallpapered à la biophilia apartment. It’s not just a thing to do for aesthetics (my biophilic design library has enough science backing this concept to fill a few college lecture halls), but to create actual, tangible spaces that afford a kind of connection with nature. In these spaces, you can barely tell the difference between the college lecture hall references and your own thoughts because they both contain a level of clarity and a stress-reducing kind of profundity that makes the connection to the natural world feel real.
My first experience of using biophilic wallpaper in a project is still fresh in my memory. Biophilic design treats a lack of nature in the built environment and enhances the connection humans feel to the natural world. It’s a relatively new concept, but my intuition told me it might work. So, years ago, while redesigning a wellness center in the city, I suggested the use of biophilic wallpaper. The center had already done an excellent job of implementing natural materials and plants for their clients who needed an escape from the urban jungle. But for me, it wasn’t quite there yet. I had a hunch that the wallpaper we used might just rectify that missing link. And what we put in was as perfect a fit as any. Bathed in light, the intricate tropical-leaf pattern enveloping the space was almost as good as being in nature. For the tintinnabulation of that moment combined with the sense of well-being it fostered, I shall always be thankful to biophilic design.
The designers knew—perhaps even better than I did—the full potential of biophilia in the American Architecture and Design sector. They understood that biophilic wallpaper could do something traditional wallpaper never could, and that was to connect humans with nature at a deep, often subconscious, level. I’ll let them explain further: “Biophilia,” as they told me, “is the innate human tendency to seek connections with nature and other forms of life.” They said it is why humans love to be outdoors, why we go to parks, to the mountains, and to the beach. And, they pointed out, it’s also why most of us feel invigorated when we do these things. Yet, as they noted, in the United States, these experiences are typically confined to the short hikes and day trips we take. “Why can’t we also feel this good in our own homes and workplaces?” they asked.
The results were beyond expectation. Within some weeks, employees felt a sense of de-stress, and productivity took a noticeable leap upward. I cannot claim that the mere presence of wallpaper was singularly responsible for the change, but I do believe the infusion of biophilic design elements—including the wallpaper—into the office helped to create a more supportive environment that allowed employees to function and “recharge” in a more mentally sustainable way. So yeah, biophilic design can work in an office. Now, the question is: How do you go about choosing the right wallpaper? To be honest, I start with the easy (but important) part: asking what feeling employees want to evoke in the space. If the room is intended to be a retreat or quiet environment, it might call for soft, muted tones and organic shapes that make for a calming visual experience. If the employees need a space for brainstorming and the Super Bowl of social interaction, then what they need vis-à-vis wallpaper might be something for which to go “Ooh” and “Aah.”
Conversely, if you’re considering biophilic design for an area where you want motivation and creativity to flow—like a home office or a living room—it can pay off to be bold with color and pattern. I’ve found that wallpapers with more dramatic nature scenes—say, a mountainous landscape, a waterfall, or a sun-dappled forest—really deliver in terms of both wow factor and inspirational opportunity. Wallpapers like these serve as powerful reminders of the natural world—one that’s not always accessible to those of us living in urban centers. Indeed, the wall-hung version of biophilic design may offer even more bang for the buck than the plant-hung version, and here’s why.
A study undertaken by environmental psychologist Roger Ulrich reveals that patients recovering from surgery are discharged from the hospital sooner, take far fewer pain medications, and have far better outcomes when they are placed in sunny hospital rooms with views of nature. Wallpaper isn’t the same as looking out at a real forest, but it can simulate many of the same effects. By providing a visual connection to nature, could the wallpaper in our corporate office make us less stressed? Could it make us healthier and allow us to work better?
My Favorite Designs and Trends for Biophilic Wallpaper While design elements may ebb and flow with the seasons, certain biophilic wallpaper designs will always be close to my heart. I find that I return to them time and time again, enamored with their potential to freshen up a space and bring a little biophilia indoors. One of my all-time favorite biophilic elements is the use of botanical motifs. From delicate, hand-drawn florals to large, bold tropical leaves, these wallpaper patterns always deliver a sense of freshness, liveliness, and growth. I’ll go ahead and say it: I used an awe-inspiring oversized palm leaf for wallpaper in a client’s open-concept kitchen and dining area. It transformed that space into a sort of “kitchen in the tropics” vibe, still providing a sense of calm despite the otherwise busy intersection of such a well-traveled room.
I’ve noticed another trend that’s become very popular lately: the use of abstract forms taken from nature. These patterns don’t necessarily resemble any particular plant or landscape but instead evoke the essence of nature. They may have swirling lines that look as if they might be water currents or several geometric shapes that allude to the tessellation of crystals. These designs tend to work well in a space that’s more modern and minimalist, where an overt depiction of nature might feel too, well, natural. That leads right into my latest obsession: wallpaper with real texture that you can see and feel—think bark, stone, or even moss. I recently worked on a project where we used a wonderful grass-cloth paper that had a raised, almost tactile design, which tied into a wall that resembled sand dunes. It was really cool.
When it comes to choosing and installing biophilic wallpaper, practical concerns come into play along with the esthetics and psychology of design. For one, the wallpaper must be durable, as well as easy to clean, in order to hold up in high-traffic areas and in spaces like kitchens and bathrooms that are prone to the kind of spills and messes that warrant frequent cleanings. Some fantastic options exist that offer both good looks and the kind of moisture resistance that’s a must in rooms where things often get wet. Whether you go with a professional service or tackle the job yourself, be careful to achieve the right look without unsightly bubbles or misaligned patterns.
Biophilic wallpaper has become one of the favorite tools of mine to transform spaces, whether they are large or small. I think it is an impactful, flexible, and even affordable solution—perfect for creating a calming retreat (and even office spaces), because, remember, nature not only calms. It also boosts creativity. And if all you’re looking for is a touch of nature here and there in your home, well, that’s also what this wallpaper does. Up close, it’s truly something to behold, and the unfurling of nature—from ground level to the sub canopy to the true canopy of trees—reminds us of the power of dwelling within the spaces where we live and work. And Biophilic Wallpaper is simply one vehicle of many that gets us there. Biophilic Wallpaper is definitely not a decorative trend; it’s something you might want to include if you favor living and working in healthier spaces.