Bill Browning knows a little something about biophilic design — well more than a little something.
When introducing Browning before his keynote at the “Designing Wellbeing: Neuroaesthetics, Biophilia and the Healing Power of Beauty” symposium, Mike Peterson called Browning “perhaps the most accomplished specialist in biophilic design in the world today.” (Peterson’s Science in Foundation firm co-presented the symposium April 25-26 along with High Point x Design.)
Browning’s message to interior designers and other attendees was that biophilia is proven by research to improve our health and well-being. And, he said, it’s about more than adding plants and water features to a space. (Though plants and water features are great.)
Browning, Hon. AIA, LEED AP, is co-founder of Terrapin Bright Green, a New York City-based architectural and design consulting firm. Terrapin Bright Green’s clients include Disney, Lucasfilm, Google, Bank of America, Salesforce, Portland International Airport and J.P. Morgan Chase & Co., as well as several hospitality companies. Browning is also the author of several books and publications, including “14 Patterns of Biophilic Design: Improving Health and Well-Being in the Built Environment.” (The book, free publications and case studies are available on his firm’s website.)
Early studies in biophilia were done in medical settings, where researchers learned that something as simple as giving patients a view of trees from a window can measurably improve their health by, say, reducing their need for pain medicines and allowing them to go home sooner. Subsequent studies have shown that biophilic additions to interiors can reduce heart rates and inflammation, improve parasympathetic nervous system activity and promote general well-being.
When many designers think of biophilic design, they first think of adding plants and natural materials to a space. But there’s more to it than that, Browning said.
He contends that there are 15 patterns of biophilic design divided into three key areas. His signature book still has the title “14 Patterns of Biophilic Design” but he’s recently added the 15th — awe.
Nature in the space
1. Visual connection with nature
2. Nonvisual connection with nature
3. Nonrhythmic sensory stimuli
4. Thermal and airflow variability
5. Presence of water
6. Dynamic and diffuse light
7. Connection with natural systems
Natural analogs
8. Biomorphic forms and patterns
9. Material connection with nature
10. Complexity and order
Nature of the space
11. Prospect
12. Refuge
13. Mystery
14. Risk/peril
15. Awe
For architects and designers, the goal shouldn’t be to incorporate all 15 principles into a design. “You don’t have the budget and it’s actually not effective,” Browning said. Instead, focus on one or two.
Browning highlighted some of the biophilic patterns that may be less familiar, encouraging designers to think about them as they take on new projects.
For instance, the desire for prospect and refuge are innate in humans, perhaps traced to our early days on the savannahs of Africa where we sought the shelter of a tree, rock outcropping or cave so that we could look out over the landscape for danger and opportunity. A modern version of this: An inviting front porch that stretches across the expanse of a Craftsman bungalow. These same principles explain why people often prefer a booth to a table in a restaurant.
We’re also drawn to biomorphic forms like fractals, which are repeating patterns, but with slight irregularities. Think fern fronds or the flames of a fire. Their “midrange complexity” promotes restoration and relaxation, Browning said. Fractals can make their way into upholstery fabrics, wallpapers, art and even lighting fixtures, which can cast patterns into the surrounding space.
“My favorite is the dappled light under a tree,” Browning said, adding that his firm is doing a project with Westin hotels that will incorporate dappled light into entryways of hotel rooms to create an immediate sense of calm as weary guests open the door.
Contour orientation — the colinear, curvilinear, parallel and radial patterns found in nature — have a similar effect on our well-being. Think wood grains or waving grasses, which can be replicated in a rug, wallpaper or piece of artwork.
“We’re hardwired for all this,” Browning said. “We’re so attuned to these sorts of patterns that when we see them in human-designed objects, we get an instantaneous drop in stress.”
Much of these principles appeals to our visual sense, but biophilic design addresses other senses, too. That’s why water features have become a ubiquitous part of biophilic design: Research shows that water — specifically the sound of babbling water — helps us to drown out other, less pleasant noises and calms us. Birdsong has a similar effect.
“Why water? Let’s go back to that savannah hypothesis. We’re on the savannah of Africa. We can go almost a month without food, but we can only go about 72 hours without water,” Browning said. “There’s not a lot of water and not all of it is clean. What’s going to be our safest, cleanest source of drinking water? A little stream or waterfall.”
Browning also encouraged architects and designers to consider an often-overlooked part of biophilic design: thermal and airflow variability. When we’re outdoors, our skin is brushed by winds and breezes (unless you’re in the Southeast in August when all the air seems to stop moving). We also experience temperature variations as we move from sunshine to shade.
“Let’s design spaces that have a variety of (possible) thermal conditions and airflows. We know students do better in classrooms where they can move to the thermal conditions that suit them best,” he said. “We can even adjust thermal conditions using different materials: We know a piece of fabric and a piece of metal in the same room are the same temperature, but we perceive one as being warm and the other as being cold.”
Awe — that 15th pattern Browning recently added to his list of principles — “is that experience you have when you walk up to the rim of the Grand Canyon for the first time, or when you go into one of the great cathedrals in Europe,” he said. “The brain gets completely overloaded … and the entire body hits the pause button. It’s not a fear response. It’s not the heart rate going up, not the blood pressure going up. It’s just the entire body on pause.”
“And after people have the experience of awe, they exhibit more pro-social behaviors,” he continued. “They’re happier. There’s this whole cascade of really positive, interesting things that happen.”
Browning ended his talk by giving symposium attendees a PowerPoint tour of a reconstruction and expansion of the Portland International Airport in Portland, Oregon. A key goal of the project was to reduce travelers’ stress. The project began by mapping how various types of typical travelers — a businessperson, a family, an elderly couple, etc. — move through an airport and where pain points might be for them.
Keeping biophilic principles in mind, the team created a “living forest” of trees with massive skylights above to greet and sooth travelers. Wood slats just under the skylights create that dappled light Browning favors. As travelers move toward the TSA screening lines, a video wall projects nature scenes that evolve with the seasons, time of day and current weather.
“The scenes move, but they never move more than three miles an hour because that’s the speed of someone walking,” Browning noted, adding that a faster pace for the shifting scenes would have created more stress, not less.
There are no ugly, uncomfortable silver benches in the TSA section of the Portland airport. Instead, travelers emerging from passenger screenings repack their bags and put their belts and shoes back on at a rock-like planter that has benches tucked into it, providing a bit of privacy. Hanging gardens greet travelers throughout the area.
If Browning and his team could help bring a sense of awe to an airport, just imagine what you can bring to your clients.
