When I consider bars, I do not just picture a spot to obtain a libation. I visualize an archetype of an ideal social space: a venue that promotes connection, relaxation, and a sense of belonging. Elevating a bar beyond the humdrum of flat surfaces and a backlit liquor shelf requires the cultivation of an atmosphere that feels as inviting as the drinks being served. Biophilic bar design: It’s a thing.
A bar might have some houseplants and a few nice rocks, but a “nature bar,” or biophilic bar, is fashioned from the ground up. Fitted with biophilia, it incorporates nature’s principles throughout the very structure of the place. It uses materials reminiscent of those found outdoors—wood, stone, and glass. It gets light right—bright where it needs to be, but soft where it can be, using fixtures that cast shadows the way sunlight does. And it gets sound right, too, not by using conspicuous speakers but by leveraging acoustics built around the natural way sounds travel.
A biophilic bar design creates an environment where people are naturally comfortable and feel connected, and that’s the extraordinary part of it.
Biophilic bar design can take on many forms, but at its essence is the infusion of natural elements into interior spaces. Bar patrons experience environments where natural materials, forms, and light are present. Biophilic design works to counteract the feeling of artificiality so pervasive in contemporary architecture. In our social spaces, such as bars, we long to merge with the natural world.
Let’s begin with materials, which I consider essential to biophilic design and which constitute my most treasured element of any project space. In particular, a bar should express in its surfaces a sense of the earth’s raw materials, as if the user were directly interacting with an opus of geology. I visited a bar recently in Portland, Oregon, that was truly the apotheosis of this idea. Its countertops were carved from a single slab of salvaged wood, which is stunning in any context. But then I thought: the trees from which that wood was hewn lived in an imperfect, yet captivating, way.
I ran my hand over what I took to be the wood’s flawless surface, imagining the woodworker’s hand smoothing down the block, and wondered what imperfections would bump up against my palm’s selfie instead of a smooth wood grain.
It isn’t only wood that has this capacity; stone can, too. Fundamentally, stone serves to reintegrate us with the earth’s crust. For as long as human beings have made dwellings, they’ve used the natural materials around them to build places that have a palpable sense of roots. I’ve always found that using local, naturally occurring stone not only establishes a sense of place but also lends a remarkable degree of authenticity. There’s a rooftop bar in Mexico City where the top is made of volcanic rock. Grab a drink, and the coolness of the stone reminds you of the natural world, counterbalancing the warmth of your friends and the bartenders around you.
That coolness, juxtaposed against the warmth of human interaction, is a kind of harmony that’s critical to successful biophilic bar design.
The furniture, too, plays an important part. In bars with a focus on natural design, one expects to find soft textiles, for example chairs with cozy cushions, made of natural fibers like cotton, linen, or wool. These fabrics can provide an alluring nod to the comfort found in a forest. Beyond that, it’s common to find “wood” furniture—e.g., tables and chairs. When I talk about “wood” furniture, though, I mean furniture made from untreated wood. “Bar stools” may not be the best place for untreated wood, but what if the bar used “wood,” “upholstered” in natural fibers, for bar stools?
That would definitely be a space where one could feel at peace, not just with oneself but with the environment.
Section 2: The Influence of Light, Space, and the Force of Nature on Biophilic Bar Design
Biophilic bar design involves many different, sometimes underestimated, elements, and one of the most critical is lighting—specifically, how to set it up in a bar for the right vibe. Mendez favors lighting schemes that mimic the natural progression and intensity of daylight. And while it may seem counterintuitive, soft, warm lighting is particularly effective in bar settings because it creates a calming, intimate atmosphere conducive to conversation. “It’s the kind of lighting that you can’t help but think is flattering,” Mendez says. “Natural light, when you have it, is really amazing in any environment.” Mendez cites a bar in Barcelona with a retractable roof that allows for the space to be completely drenched in sunlight during the day, a transformation that seems to make it a different venue altogether.
Even in sheltered spaces with limited natural light, deliberate lighting can mimic the outside world’s luminance. One of my favorite New York City projects is a bar where the lighting was designed to replicate the soft glow of moonlight. Light fixtures that resemble orbs of light dangle from above, suspended in a way that suggests they’re the closest thing to “stars” in this subterranean space. That’s not just a design choice; it’s a smart emotional and psychological play that makes this bar feel like it’s connected to the outside natural environment.
Light is good, but it is not everything. The way a bar is laid out can make or break its atmosphere. I always think of the “biophilic” design (which means “love of life”) of a good bar as encouraging fluid, organic movement, avoiding right angles and sharp divisions. I also think of it as making space for good light. In one of Japan’s many wonderful bars, seating was clustered in a way that mimicked the irregular pattern of stones in a riverbed, making it seem like there were small, intimate pockets for conversations all across the space when you entered it.
The way the bar itself curved around the room made it feel inclusive and open, as if the entrance of the “bar stream” were beckoning you in.
One of the bars I went to in Stockholm took things a step further. They had deliberately designed the space with a focus on separating it into a few different zones—some of which were pretty much wide open, with a lot of energy flowing through, and others that were much more closed off, offering a sense of privacy and seclusion. You could definitely tell that the bar was packed and busy, and even though there were a few conversations happening in the zone I was in, it felt much quieter than other parts of the bar.
Yet right in front of my face was a giant screen filled with the jump cuts of a wonderfully chaotic life. I could definitely see how the bar was catering to both the extroverted and introverted types of people who might happen to visit.
Undoubtedly, greenery is the most evident facet of biophilic design, and bars are no exception to this rule. Yet, decorating with a plant or two hardly encapsulates the concept. What sets biophilic bars apart is the extent to which nature is integrated—from the use of natural materials in construction to the inclusion of living elements like the wall of plants I once built in a bar I designed. That living wall featured a vertical garden constructed with over 240 plants that were just the sort of fragrant, mesmerizing components of nature one might find in a forest.
The experience of being near such an immersive and intentional element of nature was so profound that I and the bar’s patrons could hardly help but relax upon encountering it.
I also like to include water in a bar. The sound of gently running water is one of the most calming, natural sounds. It’s perfect for creating a serene environment within a space. A small fountain or a trickling water feature can mask the noise of the city outside, drawing people into a peaceful, almost meditative state. I once worked with a team on a rooftop bar in Singapore. We designed a shallow water feature that ran the length of the bar. As patrons sipped their drinks, the sound of water trickling over stones provided a soothing backdrop, grounding the space in nature.
A serene oasis in the urban intensity of the Singapore skyline.
Natural light, clear water, greenery, and organic space—the bar at the Four Seasons Hotel Bogotá has been transformed into a sanctuary where the senses can truly awaken. This space where people can be and where they can connect with the world around them is something that eludes most bars. While many bars serve up an ambiance that feels comfortable and even kind of cool, it is rare for one to be a retreat where a person might actually feel a sense of well-being. That retreat is exactly what the spa at the Four Seasons Bogotá offers, and spa director Yennifer Vargas Penagos—working alongside various architects and designers—has executed this vision brilliantly in her design.
One of the elements of biophilic bar design that stirs me the most is that it connects with all of the senses of those stepping inside. This makes it far more than what we just see or touch. Rather, it’s a truly successful biophilic design that can immerse you in a multi-sensory experience. It stimulates sight, sound, and smell (and even taste) in subtle ways that nudge your brain without demanding your attention. And when all of those elements come together? It’s the truly successful biophilic bar. It’s a one-way ticket to feeling suspended in a natural setting—a place where every detail is aligned to make you feel connected to the natural world, no matter where you are.
Consider, for instance, sound. The majority of bars place their emphasis on the playlist. Whether it is live music or carefully curated background songs, most people consider these to be the most important aspects of a bar’s auditory experience. However, what if we could take inspiration from biophilic design and pay more attention to natural sounds that could be layered into a bar’s ambiance? One of my favorite examples of this comes from a bar I visited in Vancouver. This establishment installed speakers in various locations in order to play the near-subliminal sounds of birds chirping and wind rustling through leaves.
One would not necessarily even notice these sounds, but they were present, and really gave a sense of a peaceful garden space in a bar located right in the middle of downtown.
Sensory engagement also includes the smells that fill a space. Most bars focus on the mouths watering with the scents of food or the heady aromas of cocktails, but a biophilic bar takes it one step further to engage the olfactory sense by integrating subtle natural scents. In one bar project I worked on, we used essential oils diffused through the HVAC system—scents like pine, cedarwood, and citrus—that mimicked the freshness of the forest. While this was definitely not an overpowering or artificial aroma, it did provide a light hint of fragrance that filled the space and created a clean, bracing environment.
You wouldn’t be able to tell whether or not patrons were aware of the scent, but you could definitely see the way they breathed more deeply and relaxed as they entered the bar when the natural aroma was present.
Taste is just as important, and that’s where the bar menu comes in. A well-designed biophilic bar will often inspire the drinks themselves. Cocktail menus commonly mirror the natural elements. I’ve seen and experienced it in bars. For instance, a bar I visited in Amsterdam using biophilic design created drinks based on different local ecosystems. The cocktail menu ranged from simple drinks to some really extravagant ones. Each drink was designed around a specific ecosystem found near the city, with medicinal properties and other characteristics. Biophilia and ecosexuality are just some motifs you’ll find in bars, with immersive experiences and servings that can range from an earthy, forest-inspired drink to something a bit more adventurous, like an aquarium-themed concoction.
Biophilic bar design isn’t just about materials, light, sound, and scent. It touches on something much more elusive and emotive. Why do we go to bars? To unwind, to celebrate, to connect. We go to bars for many of the same reasons we might commune around a campfire, a communal kitchen, or the hearth of a home. After all, bars are inherently social spaces, right? But have you ever thought about the psychology of a bar? I think about it a lot, especially during bar design projects. What makes a bar good? Aesthetically, for sure. You want people to love how it looks, which makes them kind of love being there.
But you also want it to be… gasp… emotionally satisfying. When people are surrounded by elements that remind them of nature—whether it’s the tactile texture of wood, the sound of water, or the presence of greenery—it has a calming effect.
I recall a bar in the heart of Copenhagen that personified biophilic design. The bar’s ceiling displayed an intricate latticework of branches, akin to sitting under the shade of a tree. Nearly every surface was encrusted with natural materials like stone and wood, giving the impression that you were dining al fresco somewhere in the great wide open. Despite the bar’s apparent naturalness, I found it to be an entirely civilized setting. There was peace in a crowded bar, and people spoke in near whispers. Laughter was more common than you would find in a great number of Cheers!-like bars, and contentment was practically dripping from the rafters.
A bar I visited in Cape Town provided yet another truly unforgettable example. The designers took cues from the surrounding natural landscape, using colors and textures that echoed the region’s rocky cliffs and coastal flora. A massive stone structure served as the centerpiece of the establishment, doubling as a bar top and art installation, with so-called natural plants growing from the stone’s crevices. Stone carvings and rough-hewn wood added to the establishment’s “natural” feel, as did the soft, sandy tones of the walls, which could have been mistaken for the actual bar counter in a “natural” bar.
I remember looking at the face of a wood carving and trying to imagine the human figure that must have been part of the wood’s original design before a bar top became the “natural” state of the wood in a bar aesthetic. But that wasn’t all!
Ultimately, the reason biophilic bar design holds such oomph is that it creates a space that feels as good as it looks. It elicits something deep within us that has evolved over millennia—the desire to connect with nature, to be around organic elements, and to find ease in the natural world. Whether it accomplishes this via the use of familiar scents (a bar should smell good), natural materials (a bar should be sturdy), considered lighting (a bar should be bright when needed, otherwise softly lit), or even sounds one might hear in a forest, biophilic design has the potential to elevate the basic environmental envelope of a bar into something glassy and ethereal.
