In designing spaces for people to live in, particularly guest rooms, we strive to craft an experience that is both welcoming and restorative. We want the room to serve as a sanctuary—a haven for visitors and travelers that allows them to regroup, recollect themselves, and feel a sense of connectedness that rises above the mundane. Of course, we must handle this in design with a certain degree of thoughtfulness. The biophilic guest room is not something that can just be slapped together; every element has to allow the guest to approach nature in a manner that is both serene and revivifying.
In my view, biophilic guest rooms are beautiful because they simply and serenely transport their occupants into a natural setting. My design for a guest room at Pathfinder Ranch accomplishes this by incorporating both direct and indirect connections to nature: floor-to-ceiling windows that open to desert views, natural materials throughout the room, the sound of water, and even an opportunity to glimpse a small, petroglyph-style ancient stone art installation.
Part 1: Crafting the Experience – From Surface to Illumination
When creating a biophilic guest room, I always ensure to incorporate the use of natural textures and materials that essentially reintroduce guests to the natural world. Alan W. is a firm believer that the choice in materials shapes one’s perception and experience of a space. This is particularly the case when considering the opportunity for guests to interact with the materials of a space in a tactile way. For instance, in Wood Lodge—one of our newest projects in the Scottish Highlands—flaws, knots, and other visible imperfections in the natural wood of the guest room’s walls and ceiling give way to a story of rustic charm that’s told through nature’s handiwork.
The texture of weathered timber underfoot and the visual warmth of natural wood make for a guest room that’s inviting on every level.
In biophilic hotel rooms, the interplay of texture and natural light creates a unique atmosphere that connects guests to the natural world, and allows them to fully appreciate the beauty of their surroundings. The sun is the most powerful and beneficial natural light source, and I take great care in my designs to flood each biophilic room with as much direct sunlight as possible. This usually entails placing large picture windows at the room’s sunniest spot. When light enters a room, it interacts with the many textures present, and this interaction creates what I think of as a natural light show.
I’ve incorporated textures like this in my designs. They range from large to small and from simple to complex, and they’re all found in nature.
Yet, daylight isn’t always an option—especially in cities. In those cases, I like to simulate it with lamps that forecast the changes in a day. I use large up-lights in corner spaces that pretend to be morning and evening. Throughout the day, they get a little more dim and a little less warm, while the overhead lights get a little more warm and a little more up. Actually, the way the rooms are lit doesn’t really mimic the way the sun just goes across the sky. I was trying to make it work in half of one of another room’s up-light corners, and guessing that it just wasn’t really going to evenly light the bigger, more open space on the left side of the room.
Part Two: Auditory and Olfactory Experiences: Involving the More Delicate Senses
When people think of biophilic design, they usually think of its visual and tactile components. But two other, often-overlooked senses also play a huge role in crafting an immersive guest experience: sound and smell. The most arresting biophilic hotel rooms I’ve ever stayed in were quiet sanctuaries filled with natural sound. A few years back, at a remote eco-lodge deep in the Costa Rican rainforest, I woke up every morning to birdsong and the trickling of a nearby stream. Our room had no traditional windows; instead, it was “screened” so that the breeze could enter freely, along with the natural sounds of the jungle.
I remember thinking how much more connected I felt to the environment because of that. The architecture allowed the sounds of the natural world to penetrate the space, filling it with the kind of presence that no amount of visual design could replicate.
Certainly, it is not possible for every guest room to have walls that open up to a rainforest. In an urban context, or even in the more conventional home, I have found that introducing soundscapes—whether through speakers artfully placed in the room or natural water features—can achieve a close approximation to the kind of tranquility I found in my rainforest home. There’s something deeply calming about the sound of water in any form—flowing, dripping, or pouring. I’ve often recommended small, table top fountains or the sound of rain playing gently in the background.
It gives the room a sense of calm; you almost want to breathe a little deeper, a little slower.
Biophilic design can use smell in effective ways. The scents of fresh pine, cedarwood, and even lavender, when diffused, can evoke specific natural settings, helping guests feel more present. I worked once on a project for a boutique hotel that infused the scent of fresh herbs in the guest rooms. It tied together the hotel’s aesthetic and was a nod to the surrounding countryside, where those herbs grew. The experience was calming in its subtlety. Guests would comment how the scent seemed to put them in a more relaxed state. I try to apply this to all my “high touch” designs in guest rooms: ensuring each scent has a purpose and is a part of an experience that ties back to the surrounding natural environment, even if it’s a somewhat reinterpreted version of it.
Section 3: Establishing a Sense of Place Using Biophilic Principles
One of the foundational elements of biophilia is place. Guest rooms should be unique to their environments and draw freely from the local landscape, flora, and even fauna. I’ve stayed in plenty of hotel rooms that feel almost oppressively generic—like it would totally freak me out if I even tried to think about what the room’s design might be inspired by. When I walk into those almost-cubical rooms, I can’t help but feel that the important sensory and aesthetic connections between me and the environment are absent. A biophilic room takes the opposite approach.
It looks to the local (and even the local wildlife) for inspiration and isn’t afraid to use that as a design aesthetic.
I remember my time at a small, family-operated bed and breakfast on the coast of Maine. The guestroom had a spectacular view of the rocky shoreline, and everything in the room—from the slate floor bathroom to the driftwood accents on the walls—was a tribute to the coastal environment’s breath-taking beauty. Even my sidebar filled with books about local marine life and birdwatching was a nod to that. It’s a design philosophy I carry with me into every biophilic guestroom I create.
A different project I was involved in had me working on a guesthouse located in the heart of a dense forest. For our architectural vision, we looked to the immediate environment for inspiration. Along with using locally sourced wood and stone, we designed the space in such a way that moss-covered features within the room helped to dissolve the boundary between the indoor and outdoor worlds. Large windows opened onto the forest floor, and I can only imagine how breath-taking it must be to look out and see all of the life that is abundant there. Fortunately, the design team’s intent has been well documented.
Hearing it straight from their mouths does not do any disservice to our understanding of the project.
When biophilic guest rooms are in the design stage, an important factor to consider is that guests typically come to a hotel seeking refuge. They want to momentarily disconnect from their frantic lives and enter a space that is both invigorating and tranquil. Incorporating elements from the local environment, be it through the use of native plants, local materials, or art inspired by nearby natural wonders, can help designers create rooms that give all who occupy them a sense of being grounded in their location. And this is vital, as hotels are not just places to sleep; they are way stations on the journey to an immersive experience in a particular region.
Even something straightforward as adding native plants to my indoor space can have a major impact. I’ve experienced this in the tropics, where my verdant “indoor gardens” are but a continuation of the vibrantly alive landscape out my windows. In that setting, I would’ve been hard-pressed not to incorporate any form of plant life. The contrast seems to come in arid, desert-like environments; those places also have a way of burgeoning with life. My cactus and succulent “garden” maintains the visual harmony of life between the inside and outside of the guest room. These plants serve as another natural tie to the local ecosystem.
Final Thoughts: A Guest Room That Endures Biophilia
In the end, a biophilic guest room must feel like a sanctuary where visitors can recover from the demands of everyday life. It is a space that can be made to engage the senses in ways that connect deeply with the natural world, or at the very least, the space can be made to engage the senses in ways that keep solace within its walls. Natural materials can be used in the construction of a biophilic guest room, as can elements whose only local presence would be within the room (for instance, the sound of a small, indoor water feature).
To the extent possible, the biophilic guest room should embody the natural world both to and within the guest.
Biophilic design, to those who experience it, has an almost ineffable quality. Its elements and aesthetics may not always be consciously recognized, but they are felt at a level that reaches beyond the mind. Designs that incorporate natural human elements—plant life, water, light—if done right, touch the very core of our existence and make us feel at peace, connected, and re-energized. They do what good design is supposed to do—make us feel better about being alive in the space that we inhabit.
Part 2: Accepting Biophilia via Thoughtful Spatial Arrangement
An often-neglected aspect of biophilic design—especially in guest rooms—is spatial arrangement. That is, how rooms are laid out and designed to optimize the health and wellness of their occupants. In a guest room, designs can be made to support biophilia, and one of the most overlooked opportunities for that design work is in the spatial arrangement of the room. Specifically, how does the space within the room itself contribute to health, wellness, and a sense of connection to nature?
I recall an occasion when I inhabited a remote dwelling nestled within the Colorado Rockies. Although the structure was homely, its arrangement held an intuitive quality that spoke to me. The bed was placed in a position of prominence, fronting a large picture window that offered a direct line of sight to the mountainous topography. In fact, I felt more like part of the landscape than a mere guest in a room. Whether I was at rest or in a propped-up reclining state with a book in hand, the morning light, the afternoon light, and oh, the sunsets!—the play of light was mesmerizing.
Even the furniture, low to the ground and rounded in form, seemed to create soft transitions with no sudden movements in the design.
When designing a biophilic hotel room, it is crucial to consider the view a guest will have of the natural world. This could be as simple as a view of a garden or courtyard. Biophilic design allows us to foster this sort of immediate connection with nature even in hotel rooms. I was once assigned to a project in an urban hotel that had no such immediate connection—it was surrounded by other buildings and even included some rather unattractive parking lots. We solved the problem by creating exterior “living walls” on the side of the neighboring building.
That gave guests a view of vertical gardens, with plant life unfurling in different patterns, and even a view straight down an interesting “pathway” made of plants.
This concept of prioritizing views also applies to the arrangement of the overall room layout. For instance, positioning the bed or the seating area so that it fully capitalizes on the natural landscape can maximize the biophilic effect. We once designed a room with floor-to-ceiling glass doors that opened directly onto a terrace. Speaking of that room, the project’s lead designer, Jennifer Yen, called it “a design that not only embraces views but also encourages moments of connection with nature.” Yen’s terrace room certainly does that, but how many of us have rooms in which we are literally this close to the great outdoors?
Another vital factor is the use of biomorphic forms and patterns. In the natural world, few straight lines or rigid structures exist—everything is organic, flowing, and interconnected. I’ve often found that incorporating organic, natural shapes and forms into architecture and furnishings can make a guest room feel more harmonious and inviting. Curved, gentle, and flowing forms lend themselves to the overall aesthetic of a room. Fabrics and furnishings can be undulating, even in patterned form. Or, one could think of asymmetrical elements of design that mimic the shapes found in nature—especially that of the human body.
One needn’t be a naturalist to appreciate the attractiveness of these biomorphic elements!
In a specific project, we drew from the design of tree bark and used that as an inspiration throughout the guest room. The headboard had detailed carvings that mimicked the natural grain of the trees outside. As for the wallpaper in the “water closet,” it had a pattern that echoed the delicate veining of leaves. What we did was bring subtle, natural patterns inside to do what good design should do: make a “room” into a “water closet” without obvious separation. You should experience continuity through good design.
Part 3: Improving Wellness by Utilizing Nature’s Elements and Sustainability
The idea of well-being is central to biophilic design, especially in the context of a guest room, where one certainly aims to create an atmosphere that promotes relaxation and space for renewal. It is imperative to keep in mind, however, that well-being in biophilic design considers far more than mere aesthetics. It also involves the intent and effort to create a guest room that is positively impactful in all aspects related to sustainable design—especially because it can serve as a model for potentially millions of similar spaces found throughout the world.
Biophilic design is one of my favorite aspects of biology, and I love the natural, sustainable materials that it brings to us. I’ve become more and more passionate in recent years about using materials that draw on nature and look beautiful but are also kind to the environment. I love that biophilic design encourages us to use materials that are good for the environment, like sustainably managed wood, which I used in a guest room at one of my recent projects. The trees in the sustainably managed local forest were cut down; the wood was kiln dried and planed so that it could be used for some super high-end art.
But we used it as the basic material for the furniture in the guest room. And I’d say I would love to have that kind of furniture in my own home because it’s beautifully made and totally unique.
Sustainability isn’t solely about the use of appropriate materials—it is very much about the spatial experience of the guest. The biophilic designs I create do incorporate energy-efficient lighting and programmable thermostat systems. These two components of design have the power to dramatically reduce the energy draw of the guest room while maintaining a comfortable environment for the occupant. I have had experiences as a guest in eco-friendly resorts that have inspired me to create the same biophilic designs that promote an understanding of sustainability among the guests who will inhabit the spaces I design. By way of a remarkable contrast, I recently stayed in a contemporary resort in Durango, Colorado, where the only light that was present in the hallways was light that was emitted from the guest room doors…
When it comes to air quality, I’ve become a proponent of including plants in clever ways as living, breathing elements of the room—rather than just as the kinds of decorative elements that might be seen in a classical interior. Plants not only bring an organic beauty, but they perform as natural air filters and purifiers. Certain plant species, such as peace lilies and snake plants, are especially good at filtering out harmful formaldehydes and other volatile organic compounds from the air. And so, in some of our more recent guest room prototypes, we have integrated living plant walls into the architecture of the room to stunning and healthful effect.
Yet another way to increase occupants’ well-being through natural elements is the use of natural ventilation systems. Where I can, I like to design rooms for guests that can be naturally ventilated—they can receive a steady, fresh airflow without being solely reliant on mechanical systems. There’s something inherently nice about being able to feel a room’s “airscape.” If the breeze could be bottled and sold, I’d be one of the first in line. In some climates, however, natural ventilation and airflow aren’t so feasible; in those instances, I recommend to clients that they open up the possibility of having operable windows (even if just a simple sash window that allows for a top-down or bottom-up opening).
Being able to use a window to let in some fresh air (once it’s not too cold or too warm for a guest) is a feature that guests tend to appreciate.
To sum up, the biology of the biophilic guest room is not just about putting plants or organic materials into a structure. It is about a design strategy that incorporates the seemingly simple five senses into a guest’s experience. You can create the illusion of space with sound or the use of light. You can use sustainable materials to create safe environments for guests, and you can (and should) weave the natural world into a guest’s experience using textures that evoke what they might feel on a hike or in a garden. But most importantly: Every decision you make in a biophilic design should promote health, happiness, and a deeper sense of connection to the natural world.
Part 3: The Guest Room’s Natural Influence on the Mental State of Guests
Biophilic design is more than just making buildings resemble nature and filling them with things like light and air. More profoundly, it’s about offering psychological relief and a sense of well-being to inhabitants through the design of space. In my years of experience in biophilic design, I have found it to be most beneficial in spaces where people are seeking respite—like in guest rooms of hotels or hospitals, for example. Biophilia—invented as a term by biologist E.O. Wilson—combines living things (biology) with a love of (philia), or attraction to, the natural world, which we all have to some extent.
Biophilic design is compelling because it can reduce stress. A study once found that even a small amount of natural elements, such as a view of a tree, could lower your stress levels. I’ll take it one step further: If you’re in a natural setting, you’re probably not stressed at all. I stayed in a cabin that hugged the contours of a mountain and overlooked a lush valley. The retreat had used natural wood, stone, and soft colors in the interiors. I felt as though I was being wrapped in Mother Nature’s comforting arms.
I didn’t have a single worry; it was the calmest I’ve ever been. And here’s the kicker: After two days, I still hadn’t touched my phone. I was in a cabin in a mountain landscape for two whole days, and my only access to the outside world was through a window.
Creating a psychological environment is more complex than simply putting plants or natural materials into a space. It’s about concocting an atmosphere that subtly resembles the complexity and variety of nature. My designs try to do that by employing what researchers might call “natural fractals.” These are patterns found in nature—like the branching of trees or the rippling of water—that our brains seem hardwired to find calming. I might display wall art featuring organic, repeating patterns, or use textiles and fabrics that echo the shapes and lines of nature. When I designed a guest room for a retreat, I painted a big mural of a stylized mountain range.
The real mountains just beyond the windows served as a point of direct reference for the contours of my mural.
Biophilic design benefits human psychology in many ways, with one of the most important being the ability to increase creativity and mental clarity. I find this especially relevant for the guest rooms we design for business travelers or those using our hotels for personal retreats. Studies and just plain common sense tell us that nature boosts brain function. I’ve found that when I spend time in nature—whether hiking through a forest or simply sitting on a beach—I have more and better ideas. When we design guest rooms, we try to include elements that will boost nature’s beneficial effects on the human brain.
Whether it’s a desk positioned to face a garden view or a nook that’s cozy enough for a guest to finish a book, we aim for rooms that rejuvenate the mind.
In a project I did for a boutique hotel in the Pacific Northwest, we aimed to create an environment that would enhance guests’ mental clarity and focus. We drew our color palette from the surrounding landscape—deep greens, cool blues, and warm earthy tones. They were colors that, when combined, evoked a sense of calm and sharpened the mind. We also placed small indoor gardens in each room, stocked with a selection of plants known for their air-purifying properties, that could be easily maintained by the staff. The result was a space that not only looked beautiful but also had a tangible, positive impact on guests’ mental states.
One of the amazing things about biophilic design is its ability to make people sleep better. My hunch is this has something to do with how it naturally leads us into deeper, more restorative slumber. And while I think any hotel room can benefit from biophilic design elements (of which there are many), I also believe some biophilic cues are more suitable for enacting the sleep part of a guest room’s function. That’s because certain cues are better at helping regulate the olfactory system and circadian rhythm and at fostering a peaceful, calm state of mind that’s conducive to the kind of sleep everyone wishes to have when staying in a hotel.
These design principles have guided me in my own work to craft a sleep-friendly environment that feels like a retreat into the natural world. Soft, breathable, and natural materials like organic cotton and wool often populate my spaces, in the form of bedding and rugs. I pay close attention to lighting and use dimmable fixtures, as well as a few good tricks for designing with light and using blackout curtains in natural fibers, to help guests feel comfortable in the sensory relationship they have with light, day or night. I view the way I’ve used materials and light as an opportunity to create a space that hugs the occupant, a cocoon where one can literally and figuratively rest easy.
Besides sensory elements, biophilic design can tap into the psychological benefits of feeling connected to a larger ecosystem. This is something I appreciate more and more. When we feel connected to nature, we also feel more connected to something bigger than ourselves. For guests staying in unfamiliar places, this sense of connection can be incredibly grounding. The best biophilic guest rooms create a subtle yet powerful sense of place—is it the local materials, the artwork that reflects the natural landscape, or the way the views highlight the unique features of the surrounding environment?
I recall being in a coastal guest room in Iceland that typified this notion impeccably. The room was a minimalist, nearly stark, but it showcased a large window that put forth a commanding view of the nearby cliffs and ocean. Inside, the design was simple to the point of being almost too straightforward, with local wool blankets and stone accents and driftwood furniture. Note the combination of these elements created a space that felt both intimately connected to the landscape and incredibly personal. It wasn’t just a guest room. It was, in every sense, a room in the world, and I left thinking that something very special had been wrought.
To summarize, biophilic design may not be the only aspect of design that evokes beauty, but it is certainly an approach to design that has a direct, positive impact on mental and emotional well-being. This consideration is especially relevant within the context of the guest room, a space that is all about rest, recharge, and reflection. By literally designing with nature—using natural materials, engaging all five senses of the guest, and artfully using the presence of water, plants, or natural light—we can create a room that serves more than just the basic function of shelter.
We can create a room that facilitates healing, reflection, and reconnection with nature, not just a respite from the relentless pace of modern life.
