Inhabitants of the world’s urban centers can become cut off from nature. Nature doesn’t seem to have much place in the glass and concrete behemoths that rise over much of the modern city. But some architects and designers have taken to reassessing the apparent disconnect between city dwellers and the natural world. In doing so, they’ve developed a new design idiom: the biophilic tower. These innovative high-rise homes and offices integrate a number of natural elements into their often-unconventional designs. ?>”>
Biophilic towers aim to achieve designs that incorporate nature and living elements throughout the structure. At the base level, the love of nature is almost palpable, with inviting green spaces that include outdoor living areas covered by the canopies of trees—ideal for escaping the buzz of the urban environment. And, if anything, the levels above are even more astonishing, with walls built of living plants teeming with life, outfitted with outdoor balconies that also act as green spaces, and a configuration that has the double positive effect of casting shade down below while allowing light to penetrate to the deep core of the living tower.
As you enter the lobby, the tranquil presence of a large indoor water feature greets you. It, along with the natural stone walls and generous plant life, bring you immediately close to nature. One of the tenants told me that living in a high-rise often felt “boxed in by concrete and glass.” But the lobby’s calming waters and natural elements helped relieve that pressure. For her, those features led to feeling at ease in her environment, more connected to nature, and—she claims—more productive when working from home.
Biophilic towers do more than offer refuge. They create an environment where mental and physical well-being is prioritized. The presence of greenery imparts a sense of comfort and calm. It seems to be more than just an attractive façade; it’s evidently something we humans are hardwired to respond to positively. Sheltering in a space surrounded by plants and trees has been shown to reduce stress, elate our emotions, and even expand our cognitive abilities. In a nature-saturated urban area, these leafy high-rises may well become our best hope for thriving.
One project I worked on took biophilic design to new heights—quite literally. We developed a high-rise tower that was a green space on nearly every floor, with shared gardens that could have anything from flowers to vegetables. I had a conversation with one resident who had come from an upbringing in the countryside and had been skeptical about moving into a high-rise in the city. She had warmed to the idea of biophilic living, though, and it seemed to me that when I talked to her, she was much more well-versed in the theory behind it than I was.
She had taken up gardening on her terrace, and her explanation of how that served as a grounding and meditative practice for her was very convincing to me.
Her experience of city living had been transformed not just by the existence of greenery but by her direct involvement with it. One of the biggest problems cities face is the burgeoning rift between inhabitants and the natural world, and it isn’t hard to see how living in a metropolis contributes to that. Time spent in natural surroundings—whether it’s the sound of leaves rustling, the scent of fresh pine, or the feel of sunlight kissing your skin—was scientifically shown to reduce stress and anxiety long before researchers formalized those findings and wrote them up in journal articles.
Yet so many people live in urban environments that only serve to cut them off from nature in every way except through their screens.
For this project, the developer included community spaces where residents could come together for yoga, meditation, or just to chat—it was their idea of a “living room” in the sky. And the spaces, too, are surrounded by nature, with plant life and even water features. In this environment, one might expect to find something on the order of a Shinto shrine. If the towers’ orientation allows them to take advantage of natural light and ventilation, then the spaces within should be adaptable for use in communal activities that don’t require a lot of refinement.
Biophilic towers offer many advantages, but creating them is not easy. To achieve a successful result, it is necessary to assemble a combination of talent and discipline—a teamwork of sorts. The biophilic towers I have worked on were part of projects that took me—and the team I led—several years to complete, from initial conception at the drawing board to seeing them standing in the full light of day. The challenges we had to overcome—from the aesthetic aspect to addressing the long-term viability of the towers—were a big reason why we took our time in developing both the idea and the outcome.
For this project, we devised a system to collect rainwater. The system consisted of several gutters that directed the water to a series of sand and gravel filters, which then delivered the water to three storage cisterns. From there, the water was conveyed to an irrigation system designed to keep the rooftop plants alive. The system was small enough that it not only could be monitored in real time but also had the occupants of the building as a constant presence to ensure that it worked well.
Inhabitants of the world’s urban centers can become cut off from nature. Nature doesn’t seem to have much place in the glass and concrete behemoths that rise over much of the modern city. But some architects and designers have taken to reassessing the apparent disconnect between city dwellers and the natural world. In doing so, they’ve developed a new design idiom: the biophilic tower. These innovative high-rise homes and offices integrate a number of natural elements into their often-unconventional designs. ?>”>
Biophilic towers aim to achieve designs that incorporate nature and living elements throughout the structure. At the base level, the love of nature is almost palpable, with inviting green spaces that include outdoor living areas covered by the canopies of trees—ideal for escaping the buzz of the urban environment. And, if anything, the levels above are even more astonishing, with walls built of living plants teeming with life, outfitted with outdoor balconies that also act as green spaces, and a configuration that has the double positive effect of casting shade down below while allowing light to penetrate to the deep core of the living tower.
As you enter the lobby, the tranquil presence of a large indoor water feature greets you. It, along with the natural stone walls and generous plant life, bring you immediately close to nature. One of the tenants told me that living in a high-rise often felt “boxed in by concrete and glass.” But the lobby’s calming waters and natural elements helped relieve that pressure. For her, those features led to feeling at ease in her environment, more connected to nature, and—she claims—more productive when working from home.
Biophilic towers do more than offer refuge. They create an environment where mental and physical well-being is prioritized. The presence of greenery imparts a sense of comfort and calm. It seems to be more than just an attractive façade; it’s evidently something we humans are hardwired to respond to positively. Sheltering in a space surrounded by plants and trees has been shown to reduce stress, elate our emotions, and even expand our cognitive abilities. In a nature-saturated urban area, these leafy high-rises may well become our best hope for thriving.
One project I worked on took biophilic design to new heights—quite literally. We developed a high-rise tower that was a green space on nearly every floor, with shared gardens that could have anything from flowers to vegetables. I had a conversation with one resident who had come from an upbringing in the countryside and had been skeptical about moving into a high-rise in the city. She had warmed to the idea of biophilic living, though, and it seemed to me that when I talked to her, she was much more well-versed in the theory behind it than I was.
She had taken up gardening on her terrace, and her explanation of how that served as a grounding and meditative practice for her was very convincing to me.
Her experience of city living had been transformed not just by the existence of greenery but by her direct involvement with it. One of the biggest problems cities face is the burgeoning rift between inhabitants and the natural world, and it isn’t hard to see how living in a metropolis contributes to that. Time spent in natural surroundings—whether it’s the sound of leaves rustling, the scent of fresh pine, or the feel of sunlight kissing your skin—was scientifically shown to reduce stress and anxiety long before researchers formalized those findings and wrote them up in journal articles.
Yet so many people live in urban environments that only serve to cut them off from nature in every way except through their screens.
For this project, the developer included community spaces where residents could come together for yoga, meditation, or just to chat—it was their idea of a “living room” in the sky. And the spaces, too, are surrounded by nature, with plant life and even water features. In this environment, one might expect to find something on the order of a Shinto shrine. If the towers’ orientation allows them to take advantage of natural light and ventilation, then the spaces within should be adaptable for use in communal activities that don’t require a lot of refinement.
Biophilic towers offer many advantages, but creating them is not easy. To achieve a successful result, it is necessary to assemble a combination of talent and discipline—a teamwork of sorts. The biophilic towers I have worked on were part of projects that took me—and the team I led—several years to complete, from initial conception at the drawing board to seeing them standing in the full light of day. The challenges we had to overcome—from the aesthetic aspect to addressing the long-term viability of the towers—were a big reason why we took our time in developing both the idea and the outcome.
For this project, we devised a system to collect rainwater. The system consisted of several gutters that directed the water to a series of sand and gravel filters, which then delivered the water to three storage cisterns. From there, the water was conveyed to an irrigation system designed to keep the rooftop plants alive. The system was small enough that it not only could be monitored in real time but also had the occupants of the building as a constant presence to ensure that it worked well.
