The ceiling is often underrated in interior design, even though it has the power to transform a room. People refer to it as the fifth wall, yet they tend not to consider it much while decorating. When I think of ceilings, I often think of well-known examples in rooms like St. Peter’s Basilica, the Pantheon, or the Sistine Chapel. These spaces, and others like them, utilize a key design element: a well-designed ceiling can often make a room feel expansive, cozy, or even a bit magical. Still, with biophilic interior design, we are now asking: How can a well-designed ceiling make us feel more connected to nature?
Biophilic ceiling design is more than beautiful; it’s profoundly calming. It’s about how the ceiling can evoke sensations of the natural world, be it from the middle of a forest, looking up at a clear blue sky, or viewing the Milky Way while lying on your back in nature. Biophilic design at its easiest—think natural light spilling through an open window—may not have many ceiling-specific applications. Still, the more complex it gets, the more opportunities it offers ceiling designers to tap into ceiling-specific ways of inducing a sense of nature. Biophilia’s ability to deliver “the essence of the outdoors” translates beautifully into ceiling design.
I remember a restaurant project where we sought to create an atmosphere of dining in a forest clearing. The space was so tight that we didn’t have the luxury of expansive windows or much opportunity to include indoor greenery. Instead, we literally carried our idea to the next level with what we hoped would serve as a biophilic canopy. Our design team used highly skilled local craftspeople to produce organic wooden beams that, along with 3D-printed panels, nearly went from wall to wall as they mimicked the sheltering upper branches of trees—if the guests had looked up at any angle approaching straight up and if the space had been as tall as the trees in even the most modest forest. The lighting was crucial.
There are many ways to be biophilic, and what I love most about biophilic ceiling design is how adaptable it is. One ceiling design I worked on recently had to fit the wish of a client who wanted to feel as if he were living in a cozy mountain retreat. This client had a rigorous, slightly crazy work life that left him little peace, and he needed a refuge in his bedroom, somewhere he could go and feel immediately calmed.
We used wood slats on the ceiling, with a few key design elements that made the slat ceiling feel cozy and nature-like, though much of that woodsy vibe came from the slats and not being able to see the ceiling fan above them.
The structure and surface of ceilings dictate how we interpret the space. A space that has a ceiling of natural materials—wood, stone, or even a concrete surface with an artful finish—instinctively feels more authentic than one with a synthetic surface. These are just some of the aspects to consider when venturing into biophilic ceiling design. Our next stopping point is form and function. Whether you’re in the market for architectural upgrades or purely aesthetic ones, these choices should always deliver not just in appearance but also in performance.
There’s a tale I frequently recount regarding a certain spa endeavor where we utilized ceiling design to amplify the sensation of relaxation and the established connection to nature. The spa itself resided within a high-rise structure, offering no direct interaction with verdant elements; but we aspired for the interior to act as an existential escape to a naturally lush oasis. For the treatment rooms specifically, we devised a ceiling masterpiece that mimicked flowing water. We employed undulating, wave-like paneling made from sustainably harvested bamboo, combined with softly diffused lighting that might as well have been sunlight glittering off the surface of a gently meandering stream. The end result could only be deemed “pure magic,” as one satisfied visitor put it — a transportive moment where the otherwise confining spa space felt like a boundless airy retreat nonetheless.
Lighting is one of the most critical design elements. With biophilic design, the opportunity to mimic natural light with all the qualities that make it special becomes a huge bonus. How humans perceive and interact with light is deeply embedded in our biology. We understand that the sun moves across the sky, and the way that kind of light filters through spaces and changes the world around us is one of the most powerful opportunities for biophilic design to recreate in interior spaces. For more perfect examples, one must only look to the homes designed by Louis Kahn, where the light really is the most beautiful thing about the ceiling. The way to recreate those qualities today could be found in dynamic LED lighting systems. Using those to rehearse the movement of the sun across the sky is one way an interior designer could bring lighting into close conversation with a biophilic ceiling.
What excites me most about biophilic ceiling design is the limitless creativity it allows. At its most basic, biophilic design seeks to reconnect people with nature, and what better way to do this than to bring organic forms, living elements, and even dynamic organisms into contact with us overhead? That’s why I see the ceiling as the final frontier for biophilic design. Push it far enough, and these elements will cause a tectonic shift in how we perceive an interior.
One of my favorite projects involved designing a library space for a university that wanted to create an atmosphere in which students could study and relax. The complication was that the library couldn’t have windows—the only natural light in the entire part of the building came from a skylight way up on the other side of the building. The problem is that there’s a natural right there. The solution was a ceiling installation that simulated the movement of clouds. We used a combination of soft, organic forms suspended from the ceiling and indirect lighting that shifted back and forth throughout the day, giving the appearance of the kind of sky one might want to sit in beneath the kind of tree you might want to sit under, if you had to pick a natural place to relax and also work.
The community college in my small New England city brought together artists and architects to design a new, high-tech, LEED-certified building on its campus. The idea of using the natural world as a reference for creating a vibrant environment extended to the building itself, although this would be an abstract interpretation since the building might likely have to be used at any time of day, during any weather, and for any purpose. Our first idea was to make the exterior mimic the changing sky. A concept drawing showed the layers of the skin differentiated not by color but by the types of materials used, referencing the perceived depth of the atmosphere when looking up from the ground. A look-up diagram detailed the building’s top-down and cross-sectional views—how it might look if you were an astronaut hovering over it at any time of day, with any sort of weather, and for any purpose.
Biophilic ceiling design can take many forms. One approach that I particularly like is the use of natural materials like wood and bamboo to form structures that make you feel like you’re outdoors. There’s a project I often refer to when discussing this approach, and my aesthetic preferences are certainly influenced by a wonderful yoga studio I worked on with a very involved owner. She really had her heart set on creating a space that felt as though you were practicing underneath a tree canopy. So much so, in fact, that we actually hung a few tree branches in the space to get the effect started. Consequently, when we designed the ceiling, we sought to make the slats of wood (and lighting) provide an effect that would make you think tree canopy and not “artificial yoga studio.”
This approach brings an aspect of motion and texture to the ceiling that I adore. It’s not just about seeing a flat surface above you, but it’s also about a portion of your environment that feels active and alive. And it’s these kinds of designs—there’s only so much one can do with a ceiling, after all—that engage the senses in a way that’s both immediate and somehow underneath your skin. You see it, and then you understand it in a way that almost doesn’t require conscious thought. A ceiling that mimics nature in some way is going to be good for the space, if only because it gives your eyes a pleasing path to follow as you direct them upward.
One of the most novel techniques I’ve had the opportunity to work with is incorporating living elements into ceiling design. It’s something that’s still relatively new, but it has tremendous potential. Fortunately, I’ve worked on a couple of projects where we integrated living plant systems into ceilings, allowing for a true indoor-outdoor experience. In one project, we installed recessed planters into a wooden ceiling. These planters were filled with trailing plants like ivy and pothos, which eventually grew to cascade down toward the walls. It was a living ceiling, constantly changing and evolving, bringing living greenery into a space that would otherwise feel sterile and static. What was particularly interesting about this project was how the plants not only softened the aesthetics of the room but also improved sound and air quality.
Maintaining a living ceiling can be difficult, but when done right, they can serve as a stunning, sustainable connective feature that reinforces an interior’s biophilic aspect. For one project, we created a living ceiling in a corporate wellness room that combined a medley of moss with ferns in what we designated as a “wellness coming facility.” This implied a layering concept as well, where we could combine low-light plants with a next-to-no-irrigation setup on account of the humidity present throughout the space (controlled via the efficient Mister in the pipes above, which only required some fullness for the water tank). It was a next-gen living room, if you will, that maintained a high level of humidity without any real problems.
Biophilic ceiling design can completely transform the acoustics in a space. This is something I always try to introduce to clients who are new to the concept. Good biophilic design, which is essentially a close interpretation of how nature does things, allows for and even encourages a close interplay between form and function. To this end, a recent project I worked on, a meditation center, serves quite well to illustrate this point. The goal of that project was to create a space in which the nearly always-present, urban ambience could be utterly and completely left behind, where one could take time to meditate and really never experience “true silence.” We were to ensure “quiet” was a component of the design.
Biophilic ceiling design can create a real sense of scale and proportion in a space. For instance, take a hotel I once worked on that had a really high lobby ceiling. It was kind of a cold, impersonal space, really. We designed a suspended installation made of natural fibers that was arranged in a soft, flowing curve just below the ceiling. That broke up the height and made the room feel more intimate. The tactile, organic quality of the installation also helped bring the space into the realm of the human. You walk into an installation space, and these should be words that pop into your head: “grounded,” “comfortable,” “cozy.” That’s what the evolution of the lobby is aiming for.
In the end, ceiling design that employs biophilic principles is about much more than being “nice to look at.” It’s also about crafting the room’s environment to involve all our senses, making it—quite literally—their uppermost part—a way of connecting to nature, of employing elements familiar to it. Sound, for one, is a big player here. Natural materials like wood don’t just carry vibration in a way that makes a guitar sound like a guitar; they also carry vibration in a way that makes a room sound, to our ears, like a room rather than a factory or tunnel.
Pragmatic aspects and upcoming directions in biophilic ceiling design.
I adore delving into the creative side of biophilic ceiling design; however, it is just as essential to explore the practical side of things. When one sets out to create a biophilic ceiling, it’s not only vision and creativity that must be exercised but also the good sense that comes from experience and an understanding of function, maintenance, and sustainability. What I have come to appreciate during my years in this field is that some of the most innovative designs are also the most practical, serving the whims of both aesthetics and everyday building operations.
My first consideration when crafting a biophilic ceiling always comes down to choosing the right materials. Biophilic design favors natural materials, but not all of them are great in ceiling applications. Take wood, for instance. It’s used everywhere, and for good reason—it’s beautiful, versatile, and way easier to work with than most things. But real wood can swell and warp in humid environments, which is a nonstarter for a bathroom ceiling. I’m really into using treated or engineered wood these days, which allows me to enjoy the look and texture of wood in a way that doesn’t feel like I’m inviting disaster into my design. Wood (and by extension, a fake version of it) has too much of the right kind of good stuff to be omitted from the conversation.
A project I worked on involved creating a ceiling using repurposed wood. The wood came from deconstructed barns—structures with a useful, but limited, lifespan. Everything about them—from their location, to the stories told by their unique history, to the magical properties of the wood inside—made them perfect for settings where the design team desired impressively rustic ceilings that would also reach high marks for environmental responsibility. This isn’t to say barn wood is the only or best material for responsible design, but it is a good case study for the sort of thoughtful materiality that those participatory methods aim to instill in designers.
Biophilic design is based on sustainability, and I think about that especially in relation to ceiling design. Ceilings are a chance to use not just sustainable materials, but also materials that contribute to beauty and functionality. I am seeing more and more people use cork. It’s not just a trendy thing; cork has a lot of properties that make it excellent for use on ceilings. First, it is extremely lightweight. Second, it is acoustically excellent. We used cork ceiling tiles in an office project to use as something that would make the space quieter because, guess what, open workspaces are not quiet. Our layout was algorithmic in the sense that it followed a rule of design, but it also composed a picture that was natural enough to please the eye. Not quieting down the space was not an option.
Biophilic ceiling design most immediately benefits sound quality in a room. And that’s crucial in many commercial spaces, from loud restaurants to open-plan offices, where walls are unnecessary and undesired. I often incorporate sound-absorbing panels made from natural materials like wool, felt, or even plant systems (including living walls) to create ceilings that enhance room acoustics. One of my favorite projects was a restaurant where we suspended planters filled with ferns and moss to create a green ceiling that not only looked fabulous but also absorbed a significant amount of the sound that the busy dining room was generating.
Along with material choice and sound considerations, maintenance is a practical matter that cannot be overlooked, especially when integrating living elements into ceiling designs. Although living ceilings—like green walls that extend onto the ceiling or installations with hanging plants—can provide incredible aesthetic and environmental benefits, they do require care. Automated irrigation systems and low-maintenance plants can help reduce the amount of time and labor necessary to tend to a living ceiling. But how do you access and maintain these systems over time? And if you choose plants that need a bit more attention, how do you ensure they’re tended to without adding too much of a burden to the maintenance staff? In a recent project, we didn’t have to wonder about these matters because we were working with a team of horticulturists—green ceiling experts who have likely worked through the practical matters associated with that sort of installation and their upkeep.
I’m especially excited about a trend in biophilic ceiling design that might be called “smart ceilings.” These are not your average, everyday LED-lighting-topped ceilings. Smart ceilings are becoming more common, but they are also, quite frankly, rare enough that one might go the entirety of a college education without seeing a single example of one. Integrating lighting, sound, and even temperature control in ways that mimic natural environments and render a space as “tuned” as possible to the diurnal rhythms of natural elements is what I’m imagining when I think of the not-too-distant future of biophilic design. And, hey, if a ceiling can pull it off, then why can’t interior designers make it happen for an entire room?
I have also kept track of the acoustic panels being developed from natural materials that are not just functional but also sustainable. One company I work with is looking into mycelium—the root structure of mushrooms—as a potential constituent for making acoustic ceiling panels. Mycelium is incredibly lightweight, fire-resistant, and biodegradable, which makes it an excellent candidate for a sustainable ceiling design. But what’s even better about mycelium is its ability to grow into different shapes and forms, which allows for a ceiling with custom designs that could even mimic organic patterns found in nature. I’ve seen prototype mycelium panels that look like they were grown in a lab to resemble honeycombs or coral formations, and I’m excited to see how this material evolves and becomes broadly employed in biophilic design.
One area with a lot of future potential is the integration of biophilic ceiling design with wellness technology. As more and more architects take an interest in the wellness movement, they’re starting to consider how to design spaces that tangibly boost well-being. One idea that’s intrigued me lately is the concept of Circadian Living, which revolved around the idea of having lighting systems that adjust the color temperature and intensity of the light throughout the day so that it better aligns with the body’s natural sleep-wake cycle. The wellness movement in architecture has gone a long way toward foregrounding the importance of lighting—for health and otherwise.
A foundational concept in biophilic design is creating a connection to the natural world, especially in the urban and enclosed environments. In creating biophilic spaces, one must pay special attention to the ceilings. After all, they are not only one of the largest surfaces in any room but also one of the most structurally significant. To render a room biophilic, it isn’t enough to just paint a tree on the ceiling. One must create the illusion of a natural scene. But what would a truly biophilic ceiling look like, and how would one go about constructing it?
Biophilic ceiling design transforms the once-forgotten fifth wall into an immersive, nature-inspired experience that promotes health and well-being. A creative ceiling can similarly reach into the biosphere to foster indoor ecosystems with anything from tech-laden surfaces to living systems full of plants and even – in one ambitious case – insects. “I think there’s a huge potential to design more interactive ceilings, in a way that the ceiling invites people to look up and have a more enjoyable experience with the everyday environment,” said Joshua H. Tobin, an architecture professor at Roger Williams University in Bristol, Rhode Island, and a ceiling design enthusiast.
