My introduction to biophilic design principles was as a graduate student in Architecture at UVA. When I first started to learn about them, the aspect that most captivated me was the ability to connect people to nature using materials. I quickly learned that in biophilic design, there is art and science in the selection of natural elements—how they interact within a space and affect the well-being of its occupants. Materials can serve as an effective bridge, joining the environment with the designed and built world.
It can be very tempting to fill a space with vibrant green plants and eye-catching decor, but there is a sort of understated beauty that comes from curating a rich material board. The board serves as a sample, a reference point for the mind’s eye, and a home for ideas. Each element is touched by the natural world, from big to small, evoking the otherworldly shape of kelp almost as much as the smooth stone with which a hand might graze. The combination is artfully arranged, maybe not to anyone’s taste, but instead to curate a quiet and softly lit space that resonates with the beaten paths of nature one might wander.
Uncovering the Story and Texture of the Materials
When I start to create a material board based on biophilic principles, I think of it as a kind of exploration. What narratives do these various materials hold? What makes them special draws me in and compels me to work with them? One of the most gratifying aspects of this approach is how it makes me see materials and objects not simply as functional items but as something with a closer kinship to living ecosystems—extensions of the landscape, as it were.
Let me give you an example. I was recently working on a residential project, and the client wanted the space to feel serene yet grounded, with a strong connection to nature. Instead of going for nothing more than predictable choices like polished wood or generic stone tiles, I started by exploring the unique textures of reclaimed wood—a choice that brings me full circle to the materials I bubbled up hard into my imagination. Reclaimed wood in particular tells a not-so-certain story—weathered, marked by time, and shaped by its environment. It’s a material that holds a certain history within its grain and is a choice that goes above and beyond most generic “nature” choices.
Yet another substance I enjoy working with is cork. There’s something solid about it—its texture, its warmth, and the way it feels when you walk on it. Cork, harvested from the bark of cork oak trees (which regenerate, much like the human liver), is a sustainable and organic material. Its softness, both in terms of its physical yielding and its acoustic properties, makes it an ideal candidate for both floor and wall treatments. In my view, cork is really the dark horse of residential and commercial design, since I discovered that it can be used to create a truly stunning built environment, one in which warmth, comfort, and acoustics are palpably present.
I have a growing affinity for including natural stone in my material boards. Stone—which can be quarried, crafted, and exhibited like sculpture—embodies the solidity and strength you want any design project to have. A limestone wall, for instance, could effortlessly replace any number of painted partitions. It is the topography of the earth made manifest—and can be used to make the same statement in any building project as a giant sheet of solid, richly textured, and warm-colored material that occupies space within it. Stone can also be variegated and formed in much more complex ways that afford you a vast range of visual and textural effects.
This is only a small sampling, but it gets to the heart of the matter—the heart of the matter being to understand how each material contributes much more than an aesthetic. Each texture and grain, each natural imperfection, spins a yarn, and a good material board tells a narrative—that of nature’s built environment.
Creating a Biophilic Materials Board—Introducing Nature’s Color Palette Indoors
A biophilic material board is akin to a sensory symphony. Each element ought to evoke nature’s essence. A material board with biophilic qualities really must seem harmonious if its fundamental purpose in a space is to bring about a certain aesthetic and functional harmony without introducing any jarring notes. This aesthetic score the board tries to achieve speaks alongside the bottom-line benefits of biophilic design for the space’s occupants.
One of the essential factors in choosing materials that I understand is providing a tactile experience. I once conceptualized a hospitality project intending to immerse guests in a forest retreat within an urban context. To achieve this, I leaned into the use of textures like jute, bamboo, and river stones, each hand-selected to provide a calming, sensory experience for anyone walking through the space. When it came to assembling these materials on my presentation board, I felt each one was necessary to achieve the project’s goal. If touching a sample of my board led to the same experience as a person touching a full-size version of the material in the space, then my project was already half accomplished.
These boards also have a visual aspect that shouldn’t be overlooked. One of the most enjoyable moments in the design process is witnessing how various materials respond to light. The natural materials have an amazing way of behaving with light—whether softening or intensifying, depending on the time of day. Once, I created a material board for a wellness center, and I tested the materials under different natural and artificial lighting conditions. I chose a soft-toned linen that gently diffused the light, creating a cozy, inviting glow within the room. When paired with the polished stone’s shimmer, the board achieved a delicate equilibrium between softness and sophistication—one that could work within a wellness space. I could impart more on my board’s natural materials’ projected soft, whisper-light “siren call” and the natural materials’ confidence and calm space mood, but hey, at least I set it off in the last half of the month for the warm light mood top, too.
Biophilic boards convey emotional sentiments. One instance example involved a client wishing to sense the essence of the ocean in their space, not simply as a façade but as something they could feel. We wanted to affect them on the same level as the ocean does, for which we had to select materials that could replicate the qualities of the shoreline. We planned to use driftwood for roughage, but in an area already smooth enough to contain sun-baked sand. Much of the work glass deserves a secret patina for being such a natural product. And then, to keep our suggestion of an alternate reality on solid ground, we used wood to frame our board.
It’s important to understand that the board we create with biophilic materials transcends personal taste. It targets something far deeper—our understanding of how nature achieves the balance and organization that make life possible. I often use nature as a touchstone when selecting materials, considering efficiency, durability, and life cycle. For example, I use a lot of wool felt, which is both biodegradable and incredibly versatile. In my estimation, it is one of most the useful natural materials available to us. It has phenomenal sound absorption properties, which is something I really value in an increasingly noisy world. Wool felt adds an almost fragile, soft texture to walls or seating, without being “overly” anything. It makes a purely aesthetic selection a highly functional one.
In the same way, natural fibers like sisal or hemp not only have a connection to the outdoors that is aesthetic but also have sustainable attributes that are strong and reliable. For instance, sisal is a plant-derived fiber that I’ve used in both floor coverings and wall panel applications. Its sturdiness, durability, and texture—if we were to use the term “rustic elegance” to describe it, one could hardly do better—bring a sense of refinement and in-the-country honesty to interiors. Pairing sisal with organic cotton, linen, or hemp creates, by the way, a pretty brilliant texture cocktail in biophilic interiors.
Next comes color, and it’s of the utmost importance. A biophilic material board might typically lean toward the texture and natural quality of materials, but the color selection is just as vital, if not more so. The Noll & Tam design team made a true-to-nature color selection for the material board of our biophilic design project. Working off the palette of the surrounding landscape, we pulled earthy tones of brown, forest greens, and delicate sky blues. We felt the colors selected for the biophilic material board promoted a calming, grounding, and stable mood—each piece thoughtfully and intentionally influencing spaces in the project to echo the outdoors.
I champion the combination of modern, artificial materials with natural elements, provided they are in harmony. In my design work, I have frequently used concrete alongside wood or stone. On the surface, this pairing might appear to be biophilic design’s worst offender. Concrete is not warm. It is not particularly tactile. It certainly isn’t anything you’d want to curl up next to on a winter night. But when you contrast it with wood, and especially with rough-hewn wood, the two materials’ inherent oppositions make their partnership pretty compelling.
Ultimately, a biophilic material board is a tactile, visual manifesto of a design philosophy that aims to balance the modern built environment with the natural world. To say modern design strives for this balance might seem a stretch—this kind of design has actually pushed quite hard (and for the most part, effectively) in recent years to try to achieve this elusive sense of harmony. This space between nature and modern design is a continuum from one divergent extreme to the other, and materials play a central role in determining a kind of aesthetic peace that reins in potentially fractious contrasts.
Putting a Biophilic Material Board into Place—From Concept to Actualization
The real test begins when the materials are meticulously chosen, and the board is formed; then it’s time to see if the translation of the material board into the built environment can capture the material board’s essence. This transition requires patience, planning, and autopilot on the biophilic principles (which are varied but, in essence, about creating spaces that allow humans to flourish). It’s a tough task, and the strategy is as much important as maintaining the virtues of the pivot-to-practice principle on which the boards are built.
Remembering to prioritize function over form is an integral part of the design process, especially when it comes to the selection of materials. I’ve been in situations where beauty has taken precedence, only for the project to come almost ruefully to a realization that what we chose was not appropriate for the space. Take the lovely, reclaimed wood flooring we selected for a commercial space in which we had to make a serious, costly, and time-consuming right-angle turn to the left after installation. We chose flooring that was laboriously sanded, stained, and finished to the nines prior to installation, and that didn’t show its age until we had to walk across the expanse of it on a daily basis. In no time at all, the unwalked-upon portions of the floor were still looking magnificent, while the walked-upon portions had started to show (heavy) signs of non-beautiful function.
Testing and prototyping are essential for us. We arrange materials on boards, but that is just the first step. We must also see just how well those materials hold up when used in the real world. For instance, when creating a design, I often test stone finishes and natural wood grains in mock-ups right inside the project space. I want to see (and I hope the client will too!) how the materials hold up and look in whatever conditions they’ll be used. (Though I certainly hope you don’t go banging on my mock-ups!) One of my favorite tests involves how natural daylight affects different finishes. Stone can look completely different in just a meager 12 hours, depending on whether it’s bathed in morning sunlight or shadowed by afternoon shade.
Sustainability is another important consideration. By its very nature, biophilic design calls for a kind, respectful relationship with our shared planet, and that extends to the manner in which we procure our materials. One of my former projects sought to create a serene, nature-inspired spa. The project’s initial material board proposed such things as imported marble and exotic hardwoods. Though beautiful, the aesthetic of those materials came with a seriously hefty environmental price tag. After some serious thinking, my project team decided to pivot away from the initial scheme. We proposed, instead, locally quarried limestone—a much more environmentally friendly alternative. For wood elements, we suggested using bamboo, a rapidly renewable resource, instead of endangered hardwoods. The end result was a space that went beyond biophilic design as merely something beautiful, and a kind of touching tribute to sustainability that went Lewis and Clark one better by not importuning environmental opponents.
I’ve also discovered that it’s critical to educate clients about the benefits and upkeep of natural materials. They sometimes fall in love with a specific material and don’t realize that it’s not going to look the same after a few years or even months. Unlike synthetics, natural materials have a level of care that they require to age gracefully. Natural wood will patina and likely not look the same in a few years. The same is true for a sealed natural stone. If living with the kind of impermanent art that was found in the cave system in Chauvet, France, is not for you, then maybe reconsider how much you are into biophilic design or the sustainability of natural materials when unsealed, when wood isn’t sealed and is being used in a natural space, when tiny creatures that kind of dark exists in a space covered by natural wood.
Let’s not forget about the budget. To be truthful, the natural, high-quality materials we think of as ideal can be pricey. I recall one project, a biophilic design for a small boutique hotel, where the budget was limited but the vision expansive. The material board we presented had lovely options: tiles made by hand, wood sustainably harvested, and textiles made by artists. These options were perfect in theory, but they were not perfect for the project’s bottom line. Instead of scrapping the concept, we looked for alternatives. We opted for reclaimed wood and bamboo veneer, used in tandem, to give the appearance of absence of paneling—a decision that made our three walls feel more like the sides of a room than a box. We used organic cotton and linen for our textiles—nice enough to keep on display and cheap enough that the hotel could afford to display them. The room was beautiful. It was an obviously biophilic space, and it was a budget-friendly space too.
A well-executed biophilic material board can provide various options for a project. Material boards are flexible rather than rigid. Indeed, they are perhaps best seen as living documents that can evolve alongside the project. A material board shouldn’t be viewed as a template that delivers final design choices. Instead, it’s a guide to the design process, helping navigate decisions concerning what the design will look like, with what it will be made, and, in general, how it will perform. And, as Karen Williams sees it, if a Guide for Living Spaces can help orchestrate the kind of natural, pleasant, and restorative experiences its occupants are meant to have, then a material board’s realm of possibilities can help achieve that as well.
A vital part of carrying out a biophilic material board is teaming up with talented artisans and craftsmen who know the ins and outs of natural materials. One of the projects I’m proudest of involved a local carpenter whose specialty was reclaimed wood. Taking our biophilic material board samples as his starting point, he created shelving and furniture that both served as the functional epiphanies we’d hoped for and, more important, embodied the selections’ textures and tones in a way that, truly, we hadn’t anticipated. Working with highly skilled, wood-loving collaborators adds yet another layer of authenticity to the biophilic design process.
At last, when the project reaches its fruition and the materials board stands completed, it is a sheer delight to witness how people interact with the designed environment. Spaces with biophilic materials invariably invite touch and engender a haptic connection to place. I’ve observed this phenomenon most intensely in spaces that feature tactile natural materials, which naturally seem to beckon people to touch them. There’s something about the way natural textures exist in the world that asks to be explored. Biophilic design, and the choice of materials that comes with it, is not about creating beautiful spaces. It’s about creating beautiful moments that occur at the intersection of people, natural materials, and the designed environment.
Ultimately, a board of biophilic materials is something more than just a bunch of samples; it is the way of making a good connection to the natural world for the people in the built one. Biophilic materials allow for the bringing of restorative nature experiences into the everyday. Think of how a biophilic material board lets you play with space-making and the solar performance of a naturally illuminated environment.
