The first time I heard about biophilic design, it felt like a light bulb moment: I had always known this, but I had never articulated it before. My mother has always had a green thumb, and I grew up with herbs just outside my kitchen window—my mother’s garden. Yet, I don’t think I fully appreciated the impact that connection to nature, to something alive and growing, had on my life until I started designing spaces for other people. Once I got behind that part of the equation, the factor of how profoundly this connection with nature could be expressed in the very places where we live, work, and play.
I began to see the kitchen as biophilic design heaven.
I remember one client in particular, an exceedingly busy professional, who often worked from home. She expressed a certain sense of disconnect and stress within her domestic environment. While she loved to cook, her kitchen—despite being replete with the latest appliances, a sleek finish, and an open design—was incongruous with her cooking style. It felt both cold and impersonal; if anything, it was just the opposite of what a warm, welcoming kitchen should be. And that was the big issue right there: warmth was one of the missing ingredients, but life was the other. My client didn’t express any desire for a kitchen that was obviously “green,” but she gravitated toward environments that felt leafy and alive—and therein lay the potential to realize her biophilic kitchen dream.
The outcome was a total change—not only in her kitchen but also in her mindset. The author described feeling much calmer and more at ease when she was cooking, and even when she was just enjoying her morning coffee. This kind of effect on the psyche makes sense, right? When people work with nature instead of against it, isn’t it natural to feel good about it? This is what biophilic design is all about—having a space where it feels like you are living inside of nature rather than apart from it. But what is a biophilic kitchen? A kitchen designed with biophilic principles in mind incorporates natural elements in a way that makes them feel like the integral part of the space that they are, rather than an afterthought.
My experience has taught me that a biophilic kitchen isn’t just about putting a few well-placed plants on your countertop (though that can certainly help). A biophilic kitchen is about creating an entire ecosystem within the home that mirrors the outside world in meaningful, and in some cases, even profound ways.
A fundamental component of biophilic design is the use of natural materials. I had the opportunity to work with a couple who are passionate about sustainability and wanted their kitchen to reflect their values. That meant the materials we worked with needed to not only be environmentally friendly but also to have a natural element to them—something that would pay homage to the world beyond their four walls.
We chose reclaimed wood for their cabinets, which definitely reduced the environmental impact. But more than that, the wood had a beautiful, aged presence—an unmistakable character that made the kitchen warm and inviting. I think now about the natural materials we used for the countertops—we went with natural stone, which was somehow both smooth and innovative yet also rustic in its earthiness. From what I gathered from the flooring, the natural countertops seemed heaven-sent.
One of the most potent components of biophilic design is water. While water features may not be commonplace in kitchens, one of my most ambitious designs includes a small waterfall adjacent to a dining area. The family I designed for had a profound appreciation for the sound of flowing water, and they wanted a calming kitchen that reminded them of their favorite hikes by the river. This unconventional feature became a focal point—an immersive conversation starter that provided a unique sense of tranquility to the kitchen. Not every biophilic design I create involves this literal interpretation of water, of course.
In some of my other projects, I’ve used much simpler—but no less effective—methods, such as a small herb garden with a self-watering system. The water pump used to nourish the plants provides a gentle, rhythmic sound that, unlike the waterfall, is inconspicuous but no less meditative.
Using color is key to biophilic design in the kitchen. Warmth and a connection to the outdoors can be conveyed using color and can be entirely absent without it. Kitchen appliances can be high-tech and have a high sheen and still be decidedly untouchable when they’re monochromatic. In fact, I’ve worked with a few tempted to paint appliances in camouflage (formally, “nature’s colors”) to make them a bit less eerie and a bit more inviting. But it’s not really about painting the stove a leafy green or the dishwasher a beachy blue. It’s about using color thoughtfully to create a layered effect of warmth and connection.
It is truly amazing to witness how such uncomplicated modifications can stir such deep sentiments. Here, we see a family spending newfound quality time in the kitchen. We see their children captivated by the little herb garden perched in their kitchen window. And we see the parents, even as they work within the kitchen, in an environment where it is easy to lose touch with the outside world, feeling as if they’re almost camping in the comfort of their own home—enthralled by the scene of the therapeutic forest that surrounds them. We helped turn a previously undifferentiated space into one within which the family can actually thrive.
And I think these parents would agree with me that the next image that figures prominently into the space—which is really just the absence of an image in the actual scene outside the window—was almost as key to the design.
Furthermore, we arranged plants and other organic materials in and around the space, augmenting the literal greenery of the hanging plants and filling the void of nature in sight with life at all levels. This simple change seemed to have a profound effect on the client’s emotional state, turning a once oppressive kitchen into a place that one would want to be in at the end of a long day. Nature, too, is more than just what’s available at a visual or olfactory level. Nature can also be experienced through sound, taste, or texture. Biophilic design can make the kitchen an emotional haven.
One way I do this is by pairing plants with kitchen experiences of the multisensory variety. One way to do that is to hang fragrant herbs above a kitchen island, so that when one ambles about in the space, one touches a plant and releases the calming scent of mint and/or lavender.
The introduction of textures in our kitchen design is bringing a new kind of variety to our space. We have added bar stools woven from rattan, stone polished to a glass-like finish on the island, and wooden beams across the ceiling that look like they were hewn by hand. Each of these elements was chosen for the sake of biophilic design—interiors that help people experience a greater connection to nature. The kitchen is the most biophilic part of our house. It does not just look good; it feels good. When we are in it, we have a greater sense of ease and comfort.
Since our kitchen remodel has been complete, we have noticed changes in our behavior. We linger longer over meals. We are more experimental with ingredients. Cooking is more enjoyable.
A client told me that they now wake up each morning with enthusiasm to enter their kitchen. The kitchen used to be just another part of the house. But now it is alive with connection, thriving with a presence that the design truly reflects. And this kitchen is biophilic! A kitchen can be biophilic, too. Why not? It can be well designed, with good Feng Shui, and still be biophilic. Biophilic design upholds the Kitchen Work Triangle as a sacred principle but redefines the components of the triangle in a way that connects the person making food to the natural world.
The first and most important thing in any biophilic kitchen is to soak up as much natural light as possible. The biophilic kitchen creates a strong connection to the outdoors, and nothing does that better than abundant natural light. Most of us are not privy to the kind of kitchens that best connect with the natural world, a la the parkside kitchen in the first image (above) by French designer Philippe Starck (Ferguson, 2017). However, abundant natural light can be achieved in almost any kitchen because, by code, most kitchens have windows; moreover, there are dispersed light sources, such as skylights, not just near the stovetop but also way back near the refrigerator.
If your kitchen boasts a large window, think about what else you can do to maximize its space. Consider the windowsill: it should be clear and tidy, for one. But what about the light? To let in more of it, you might need to transition to more sheer window treatments. These aren’t a bad idea for any room, really. But in a kitchen, where good, even, and well-distributed light is so important, a clear path for sunlight is vital to the space feeling just as it should.
If you cannot replace your windows or doors, try using reflective surfaces like mirrors and glossy tiles to amplify the existing light. When my cousin remodeled her narrow kitchen, she obtained a series of mirrored backsplashes, which helped distribute light throughout the space. My cousin’s kitchen feels much larger and is much more connected to the outdoors. Mirrors in a space can give almost a panoramic effect. Plants are also a good way to bring the outdoors in, and there are ways to incorporate them into a kitchen that are more creative than simply putting a potted fern on the counter.
By using herbs and wall planters, for instance, you can make the kitchen a healthier, more attractive, and more fragrant space.
If you’re tight on space, using plants that hang can be a great alternative. Species like pothos and philodendron look fabulous draping down from a kitchen island or sunny window. They add verdant dimension to the kitchen; the eye is drawn upward, and the layers of plants create a delightful green space. My mom has a pothos hanging in front of a sunny window that is so long, it practically touches the counter. It makes the kitchen feel inviting and a little wild, which I love. If you’re worried that you can’t keep plants alive, don’t be dissuaded from including them in your kitchen.
Low-maintenance plants like succulents and air plants can thrive in bright or indirect light without a lot of attention.
**3. Employ Familiar Elements and Patterns from Nature** Another vitally important component of biophilic design is using materials that occur in nature, which certainly look nice and help to bring a little of the great outdoors into your home. Wood is a major player amongst kitchen surfaces, and for good reason. It can lean warm to the touch and in appearance, and it also gives kitchens a homey feel. The most obvious choice is to go with solid wood, but there are many higher-end engineered woods that can be good substitutes. According to a recent story in the New York Times, there are solid and engineered wood options that are good for a variety of kitchen surfaces.
Quartersawn wood is certainly a better option for a countertop than plainsawn wood, but either requires maintenance to keep it looking good and to avoid warping and splitting. …
Incorporating natural materials isn’t always practical, but you can always try adding natural patterns. Botanical designs are a nice way to add an element of nature that is both visual and thematic. I once worked on a project that used ceramic tiles with a slight leaf motif as a backsplash. The effect was surprisingly powerful in making the space feel more natural and in tying it in with the nearby potted plants and wood finishes. You could do something similar with a wallpaper or tile mural that depicts a field of plants.
Make It a Sensory Experience
A biophilic kitchen engages a person’s senses at a level deeper than just visual stimulation. The olfactory properties of fresh herbs or a baking loaf of bread mix with the richer scents of wood (including bamboo, which I sometimes specify) and metals such as copper or stainless steel. The cooking process itself is nearly a performance art. The sounds of food cooking, chopping, mixing, and the bizarre plop of a soufflé hitting the pan should provide a symphony for the kitchen (although my husband and I argue about just how loud this performance should get).
Being on the same page about this is important when you’re collaborating with a partner. During the planning process, we’ve got to work together to create this optimal kitchen symphony.
The kitchen is an excellent opportunity for biophilic design. While this may not be a common understanding, the kitchen environment is one of the most conducive spaces for such transformative design because it can easily lend itself to becoming either an indoor or outdoor living area—or a hybrid of both. And why not? If a kitchen can become an easy transition to (and from) the indoor and outdoor spaces of a home, then it can also exist comfortably and profitably as a part of both realms. Whenever I have visited a kitchen that makes the huge visual and experiential transition between cooking as a mundane task and as a sensory experience in which one sees the larger outdoor environment, I have always been impressed.
