Designing for Experience

Gamble House porch – Greene and Greene, Architects (photo by Mattnad, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

 

Architecture transcends form and function. It is a lived experience that shapes how we perceive, feel, and belong in spaces. The environments we inhabit influence our emotions and sense of place, extending beyond mere aesthetics and utility. A phenomenological approach to design places the human dimension at the forefront, focusing on how individuals engage with and experience their surroundings over time.
 
When I first studied architecture, human experience was not at the forefront of my design thinking. Instead, I was drawn to the conceptual abstraction found in the work of certain architects I admired. These practitioners seemingly focused more on abstract theories than principles founded on experientiality or sensory engagement. Their designs distilled complex ideas into seductive forms, while emphasizing intellectual rigor over emotional or physical resonance. I found their cerebral and aesthetic approaches captivating.
 
This perspective shifted during my studies at the University of Oregon under Professor Bill Kleinsasser. His course, Experiential Considerations in Architecture, introduced a transformative lens, emphasizing a design approach that prioritizes human needs and contextual harmony over theoretical abstraction. Bill highlighted the dynamic, subjective nature of existence, a view I later recognized as aligned with phenomenology.
 
Martin Heidegger’s 1951 essay Building, Dwelling, Thinking provided a profound framework for phenomenology and understanding architecture’s role in human existence. He shifted the focus from buildings as static objects to environments that facilitate meaningful dwelling, fostering a deeper connection between people and place. This concept of dwelling, grounded in physical and existential experience, influenced later thinkers and architects who have built on the idea of engaging all the senses in design.
 
In his book The Eyes of the Skin (1996), Juhani Pallasmaa critiqued architecture’s tendency to overemphasize the visual, advocating for a more holistic, multisensory approach to design. In this regard, Pallasmaa’s critique builds on Heidegger’s notion of dwelling, further expanding the architectural experience beyond sight to include other senses that foster a more holistic engagement with space.

Interior, Therme Vals (photo from 7132 Hotels: Experience Serenity: Peter Zumthor Thermal Baths at 7132, Vals, Switzerland)

 

Peter Zumthor’s Therme Vals (1996) project in Switzerland exemplifies this emphasis. Its subterranean stone corridors, muted light, warm humidity, and resonant acoustics engage the body holistically, creating a multisensory experience that goes beyond the visual. For Zumthor, the materiality of stone, wood, and concrete is not just a visual experience; it invites tactile, acoustic, and even olfactory engagement, reminding us that true dwelling happens not only in the mind, but through the full spectrum of our senses.
 
Similarly, Steven Holl’s Chapel of St. Ignatius (1997) in Seattle prioritizes spatial experience over visual dominance. The sequence of intimate, textured volumes—rough concrete meeting smooth wood—combined with acoustic stillness, fosters contemplation and creates an atmosphere that is felt as much as seen.
 
Architectural taxonomists categorize Charles W. Moore as another well-known architectural phenomenologist. Charles, whom I had the privilege of working with and knowing during my years in Los Angeles, applied an experiential approach to his work, fully embracing playfulness and narrative. The Oceanside Civic Center (1986) exemplifies this approach. Rather than adhering to rigid modernist formulas, the Civic Center creates a dynamic and engaging experience. Vibrant colors, layered references, and an interplay between interior and exterior spaces make the environment feel both engaging and accessible, fostering a strong civic identity while being inviting. The design underscores the idea that spaces should evoke emotional connections, as an environment that fosters community and well-being.

 

Just as the work of Zumthor, Hall, and Moore emphasizes the emotional and narrative dimensions of space, the focus on human experience also extends to the urban context. Kevin Lynch explored how people perceive and navigate cities, emphasizing elements that create coherence, meaning, and a sense of place. In The Image of the City (1960), he identified legibility—the ability to mentally map and emotionally connect with one’s surroundings—as an essential component of urban experience.
 
Christopher Alexander’s theories strongly support design with experiential considerations in mind. He championed intuitive, emotionally resonant, and contextually grounded design processes, opposing mechanistic approaches that prioritize abstraction over lived experience. In A Pattern Language (1977), Alexander and his co-authors, Sara Ishikawa and Murray Silverstein, identified intuitive patterns that contribute to livable, meaningful spaces. The enduring appeal of these patterns lies in their ability to form a bridge between past experiences and the design of new environments.
 
Alexander asserted that certain spatial arrangements—such as small public squares that encourage gathering or window seats that invite reflection—resonate with people on an elemental level. His book The Timeless Way of Building (1979) introduced the concept of the “quality without a name,” an indefinable yet deeply felt essence that makes spaces feel alive and meaningful. This essence aligns with Heidegger’s notion of dwelling and Pallasmaa’s multisensory focus. 

An experiential approach to design is clear in the Gamble House (1908), designed by Greene and Greene. The house features rich, tactile materials like wood, stone, and copper, creating an intimate and sensory experience. The design incorporates carefully crafted details that invite touch, such as handcrafted furniture and textured surfaces. Carefully placed openings frame views to the surrounding landscape. The Gamble House emphasizes comfort, warmth, and an organic sense of dwelling—qualities that resonate with Heidegger’s notion of place and belonging (despite predating Heidegger's ideas).  

More contemporary applications of these principles extend this legacy. Frank Gehry’s Maggie’s Centre Dundee (2003) in Scotland, a cancer care facility, features an undulating roof, warm timber interiors, and garden views, offering solace through tactile comfort and natural soundscapes. Tadao Ando’s Church of Light in Japan is a minimalist example, a simple yet profound exploration of concrete, light, and shadow. The meditative space encourages introspection and spiritual engagement. The experience of moving through the space and encountering natural light is both physical and emotional, making it a deeply phenomenological.  

The spaces we occupy shape our emotions, memories, and sense of identity, deepening the significance of place. The patina of weathered materials or the rhythm of spatial transitions can deepen these connections, making a place feel lived-in and meaningful.  

Buildings are not static; they are shaped by human life and interactions, evolving through experience and adaptation to new needs and contexts. In an era when globalized design tends toward uniformity, phenomenology offers a vital framework to prioritize the human dimension, crafting spaces that resonate deeply with their inhabitants.