Among the many elements of biophilic design, the table is one of the least noticed but most powerful ones. In a residence, place of work, or public space, a table is a site of assembly, a point where we convene to partake of food, to swap thoughts, or to catch a breather. When tailored in accordance with biophilic principles, a table can go far beyond merely serving a function, instead linking us to nature in an oddly table-like way. At a biophilic table, we sit and are somehow strongly seated in a natural world that, if not quite nourishing us in the way it does when we’re eating, is nevertheless sending out table vibes in a non-table way.
The concept that a table can conjure up visions of a profound relationship with the natural world has captivated me. Tables may seem ordinary enough, but they can exhibit an unusual craftsmanship that causes one to marvel, much like the fine layering of a beautiful loaf of sourdough bread. Tables can have a presence that makes one pause, inviting examination of the strange use of space that they represent. And the table is so central to interaction that it seems to form a kind of necessary umbilical cord to both nature and society.
The Influence of Materials: Creating Outdoor Spaces Indoors
When creating or selecting a biophilic table, the first thing to consider is the material. Natural materials like wood, stone, or even reclaimed materials can hold a presence that products made in factories can never match. Each material has its own story, its own connection to the Earth, and contributes to a sense of authenticity in a space. A well-crafted biophilic table made of reclaimed wood can bring the history of its past life into its new one—perhaps part of a barn, factory, or a windowsill in a house made 60 years before mine.
A particular table made from a large walnut slab stands out in my memory. It came from a naturally fallen tree, and yet the maker had not sacrificed the rich beauty of the tree’s past life for the table’s surface. I still remember the way my fingers tingled as they traced the edge of the table, where the raw wood and the maker’s undulations blurred the line between table and tree. That tactile memory is as vivid as the day I saw the surface of the table, with its colorful, radiating knots, swirls, and varied wood grain. If I were to tell someone about the beauty of that table, I would invoke the imperfect, vibrant beauty of the living tree.
Biophilic table design also includes the use of stone, and tables made from materials like marble or granite can connect us to the landscapes of the natural world in ways that few other materials can. That might be why, when I visited a friend’s home that was integrating biophilic design, their dining room made such a strong impression on me. The centerpiece of the room was an immense slab of limestone that served as both a table and a literal pedestal for cooling and prolonging life. The use of that massive natural stone combined with the use of living plants in the eked-out dining space was like two massive waves crashing together, producing sonorous aesthetics that made the room suffused with life.
The Craft of Woodworking: A Connection to Something Deeper
What I most appreciate about biophilic tables is the link they establish between the crafty human hand and the natural world. It’s one thing for a tree to die and for its wood to be molested—sorry, I meant “worked”—by the radical artist or the craftsperson. It’s another thing altogether for the table to have some sort of interactive intimacy with the user. Both the radical artist and the craftsperson can achieve this by making the unfinished table. And it is only achieving this by making the unfinished table—that sounds kind of silly, I know—that the maker can truly achieve the necessary intimacy.
An experience that stands out for me was working alongside a local artisan to make a table out of driftwood. Each piece of wood had been found along our coastline—an incredible number from just the stretch near my town—and each had its own complicated, beautiful story as to why it was shaped the way it was. I could go on about the details of the specific project, but what I think is most compelling about this is the link it creates with our local environment—we have a table made out of wood that was once floating in the ocean not far from our house. Talk about connecting with a place.
A coffee table that I saw in a studio serves as another example. The wood had come from a forest hit hard by a bark beetle infestation. Rather than throw away the infested trees, the artist had converted them into furniture, honoring the wood’s tenacity even after it had been harmed. The table held the one-of-a-kind designs made by the beetles, which formed stunning, complex lines in the wood. This piece of furniture is an exemplar of biophilic design in a way that I think is truly unique.
Including plants and natural features in the tabletop itself
Of course, it is not only about using natural materials to construct the table. I have witnessed some truly innovative designs wherein the very table structure becomes a home for living elements. One particularly striking example is a dining table with a built-in planter running the length of the center. Filled with succulents and small ferns, the centerpiece planter actively “sells” the dining experience by bringing nature into the moment. I wonder: Could the encore serving of that table be the next generation of dining table design?
An additional table I worked on included a miniature water environment—an elongated, shallow channel that hugged the edge of the table. Soft, trickling water served as a gentle auditory backdrop, adding an almost imperceptible sound that heightened the meditative quality of the dining room. Our brains are wired to respond to the sound of running water. For millennia, flowing water has been all around us, in the caves of our ancestors, who huddled by warm fires; in the palaces of the kings and sultans of so many empires; and in our gated communities. Some of us have lived, or are living now, beside the kinds of watercourses that can dominate so much of our world—roaring, thundering rivers; Calm, lowing man-made canals; mahogany-smooth ponds, or the berserk babbling of a mountain stream in a desert canyon.
Being centers of connection, tables are about togetherness. I think about them in the context of my family, as I’m sure most people do. And as nurturing spaces for informal conversation, they are hard to beat. However, when I think about this, I sometimes wonder if the table I have in mind really can serve as a biophilic structure. Is it easy to imagine a conversation being held around the kind of table that lends itself to conditions of both health and happiness? Well, a long wooden table in an outdoor pavilion is an excellent candidate for biophilia. I have this image burned into my memory. The space was simple, and yet it was perfect for catching the sunset.
The biophilic table captures the very essence of life. It’s not merely the materials or design that set it apart; rather, it’s the experiences that it facilitates, drawing individuals and groups into the moment to share time and space together. Whether an indoor or outdoor table, beside some necessary canopy of design or function, it is also a gathering place—buoyant in its conviviality, even if the table is bare aside from what the gatherings might require (as they often do). Biophilic tables can be put to work indoors or outdoors, and thus they defy easy categorization, floating instead along the boundaries of solitariness and sociability.
When it comes to indoor tables, natural materials are often the focus, and for good reason; their warmth and comfort can’t be replicated. I’ve worked on large swathes of glass that bring natural light into an interior and that have near views of greenery. But what about outdoor biophilic tables? I love the idea of a simple side table next to a chair in an outdoor room. It’s so much easier to unwind with the element of fire when the dining experience is in an outdoor kitchen as opposed to an indoor one. And how about a dining table made from local stone or reclaimed wood in a pathway that leads to an outdoor dining area? An outdoor table allows us to commune with the natural world and with the fire element almost as well as an indoor table does.
The outdoor dining experience, with the sounds of nature resonating in the background, takes the act of eating to another level. It enhances the dining experience as something quiet, special, and restorative. The table represents an invitation to nature, to craftspeople, and to one another. In its design—whether meant to occupy the indoor or outdoor space—the biophilic table represents an aesthetic connection to nature. It allows dining to happen in the kind of quiet, beautiful spaces where nature becomes a backdrop. It also resists the notion that indoor dining must happen in a purely utilitarian way. In both the biophilic table’s design and the act of dining itself, there are aesthetic connections to be explored.
The possibilities of biophilic design continue to unfold, and the table, as a basic and almost archetypal element of our habitat, remains one of its most potent expressions. The table is central to our species’ way of life. No matter where in the world you set it down, the table will serve in some manner, sooner or later, as a space communal, a space utilitarian, a space contemplative. Each incarnation of the table—each biophilic version—expresses, in its own way, both the simplicity and profundity of that basic fact.
