If you’ve ever walked into a room and instantly exhaledlike your shoulders finally got the memothere’s a decent chance the space was doing something
nature does best: balancing light, air, texture, and time. That’s the heartbeat of “designing from nature,” and it’s exactly what London-based architect
and artist Spencer Fung talks about in his Remodelista interview. His approach is calm without being bland, rustic without being theme-park-y, and
modern without feeling like it was assembled by a committee of robots. (No offense to committees. Or robots. Okay, maybe a little.)

Fung’s work is often described as organic modernismspaces that feel contemporary but grounded in natural materials and human-making. Think stone,
wood, plaster, linen, branches selected by hand, and finishes that don’t hide the story of how they were made. In other words: the opposite of
“perfectly perfect.” More like “perfectly lived-in,” even on day one.

Who Is Spencer Fung, and Why Does Remodelista Care?

Remodelista met Fung in New York at the 1 Hotel Brooklyn Bridge, where he designed the Bamford Haybarn Spaan “oasis in the city” concept that mirrors
his larger philosophy: bring the outside in, and let materials do the talking. Fung grew up in Hong Kong, surrounded by dense urban life, but he also
remembers the pockets of nature he could findgranite boulders, dragonflies, small parksand those early experiences shaped the way he designs now.
His portfolio includes Daylesford’s organic farm shops and spas in the UK, along with hospitality and wellness spaces that lean into craft, restraint,
and tactile calm.

What makes this worth your time (even if you’re not remodeling a spa beneath a fancy hotel lobby) is that Fung’s advice scales down beautifully.
You can apply it to a full renovationor to a weekend tweak that makes your living room feel less like a storage unit with Wi-Fi.

The Big Idea: “Slow Architecture” and Organic Modernism

Fung uses the phrase “slow architecture,” and it’s not about taking forever to finish a project (although, honestly, sometimes that happens).
It’s about designing in a way that respects process, craft, and the way materials age. The goal isn’t a showroom freeze-frame; it’s a space that
feels better over time because it was built with time in mind.

Organic modernism, in this context, isn’t a strict rulebook. It’s a mindset: modern forms + natural materials + human touch + a little grace for
imperfection. If your space can handle a scratch and still look good, you’re doing it right.

Spencer Fung’s Nature-Led Design Principles (And How to Use Them at Home)

1) Start with the basics: natural light and fresh air

Fung’s projects begin with two deceptively simple questions: Where can we bring in natural light? Where can we bring in fresh air?
It’s the most “duh” advice that’s also the most ignoredbecause it’s easier to buy a new lamp than to rethink how a room breathes.

• Quick win: Open up what’s already thereclean windows, swap heavy curtains for linen sheers, and use mirrors to bounce daylight.
• Fresh air upgrade: If you can’t add windows, improve ventilation and filtration (a quiet bath fan, a properly sized range hood, or a quality portable HEPA unit).

2) Don’t hide the processcelebrate it

Fung loves “work in process.” In his own home, he made sure plaster showed the plasterer’s hand trail. In the spa, he stopped craftspeople mid-polish
on concrete floors because the patterns looked like leaf shadowsmarks created by the making itself.

• Try this: Choose one visible surface to be honest: limewash, hand-troweled plaster, wire-brushed oak, or even a matte paint that shows subtle texture.
• Small-scale version: Commission one handmade objecta lamp shade, a rug, a ceramic vesselsomething you can take with you if you move.

3) Learn from ancient techniques (they survived for a reason)

Fung points to carved wood patternsscale-like texturesused in Latin American and Native American traditions, made with similar tools across cultures.
His point isn’t “copy this exact motif.” It’s: pay attention to techniques that evolved through real use, local materials, and generations of trial-and-error.

• Design move: Pick one heritage technique to anchor a space: basket weaving, timber joinery, plasterwork, block printing, or stone setting.
• Modern twist: Pair that technique with simple contemporary forms so it reads intentional, not costume-y.

4) Design for touch, not just photos

Fung thinks about how a space feelsliterally. Texture matters because people interact with rooms through their bodies, not just their eyeballs.
(Your hands know if a chair is welcoming long before your brain decides it’s “on trend.”)

• Make it tactile: Mix rough + smooth (linen with honed stone, brushed wood with matte metal, wool with plaster).
• Keep it human: If every surface is slick, shiny, and wipeable, your room may feel like it’s waiting for a lab inspection.

5) Reuse materials and give “forgotten” things a second life

Fung tells a story about holly wood: he found an estate near Hampstead Heath that cleared holly each year, and he arranged to collect the felled wood.
That’s the spiritreuse isn’t just eco-friendly; it’s also a shortcut to character.

• Where to look: Salvage yards, architectural reuse centers, stone remnants, leftover hardwood from local mill shops.
• Nature-inspired reuse: Driftwood as sculpture, fallen branches as display rails, or reclaimed timber as shelving.

6) Walk for ideas (yes, walking counts as research)

Fung and his wife, designer Teresa Roviras, take walks in Hampstead Heath and hike in the Pyrenees. He paints in situ using pigments made from
water, soil, and moss. The point: nature isn’t just “a look”it’s a practice of paying attention.

• Design exercise: Take a 15-minute walk and notice three textures, three colors, and one pattern (bark, stone veining, leaf shapes).
• Bring it home: Use that “found palette” to guide paint, textiles, and wood tones.

7) Collect thoughtfullylet objects tell stories

Fung and Roviras collect rocks, sand, seeds, unusual driftwood, iron segments, and small finds from travel. When done well, collecting turns a home into
a personal landscapeone that doesn’t need to shout.

• Rule of three: Display collections in groups, not scattered everywhere like design confetti.
• Use drawers and boxes: Not everything needs to be on open shelves. “Curated” doesn’t mean “always visible.”

8) Let weather and time be part of the design

Fung loves wood weathered by time and naturelike cedar that sat outside for years and turned a grey you “can’t recreate.” In a world that wants
everything to look brand-new forever, he treats patina as a feature, not a failure.

• Material strategy: Choose finishes that age well: natural stone, solid wood, unlacquered brass, linen, leather, wool.
• Mindset shift: A scratch on real wood can be a story. A scratch on fake wood is a tragedy. Choose accordingly.

9) Use “noble materials” that last (and can be reused)

Fung prefers “noble materials” like marble, stone, timber, bronze, iron, leather, and linenmaterials that can be reused and develop patina.
He frames it as a reaction against throwaway culture: a higher upfront cost can mean a longer lifespan and a second or third life down the road.

• High-impact swap: Replace flimsy, trendy finishes with one enduring upgrade (a real wood table, a stone remnant shelf, a wool rug).
• Budget hack: Use noble materials in smaller doses (a marble threshold, a solid oak stool, a linen Roman shade).

10) Keep “organic modernism essentials” simple and natural

Fung’s essentials are refreshingly un-fussy: white paint as a neutral backdrop, natural linen fabrics, esparto grass fiber rugs, and even Ikea linen
curtains and woven pendant lamps. Organic modernism isn’t about rare objectsit’s about thoughtful ones.

11) A tiny step: grab a handful of leaves and steal their palette

Fung’s advice for bringing nature indoors can be as small as this: take fall leaves from a local park and use their colors as your palette.
That’s nature-led design at human scaleno demolition required.

12) Embrace imperfection

Fung says it plainly: imperfection is beautiful. In practice, that means welcoming the marks of craft, patina, and real lifebecause a home isn’t a
museum diorama. It’s where you eat toast over the sink and talk to your plants like they’re coworkers.

How This Connects to Biophilic Design (Without Turning Your House Into a Jungle)

Designing from nature overlaps with biophilic design, which focuses on integrating nature into built environments through direct experience (light, air,
plants, water), natural analogues (wood grain, stone patterns), and spatial experiences (refuge, prospect, mystery). The goal is not “add more plants”
(although plants are lovely). The goal is: build spaces that support human well-being by borrowing nature’s cuesvariation, texture, rhythm, and balance.

Also, a gentle reminder: air quality isn’t solved by one heroic fiddle-leaf fig. Fresh air, ventilation, filtration, and source control matter.
Nature is inspiration, not an HVAC system.

A Room-by-Room Nature-Led Playbook

Entryway: set the tone with texture

• Use a woven mat, a wood bench, and a single natural object (branch, stone, or ceramic vessel).
• Choose warm, low-gloss finishes that feel calm when you walk in tired and overstimulated.

Living room: build a “touch map”

• One tactile anchor: wool rug, linen slipcover, or a solid wood side table with visible grain.
• Layer lighting like nature: ambient + task + a warm accent (not one overhead sun-of-doom).

Kitchen: let honest materials work hard

• Wood, stone, and matte metal age well; glossy everything ages… loudly.
• If you can’t redo cabinets, upgrade pulls and add a natural runner to soften the acoustics.

Bedroom: keep it breathable

• Linen bedding, soft window treatments, and a muted palette drawn from nature (sand, bark, fog, moss).
• Reduce visual noise: fewer objects, better objects, and storage that closes.

Bathroom: “spa logic” on a normal-person budget

• Natural textures + good ventilation = instant upgrade.
• Use a small wooden stool, a woven basket, and a simple robe hook for ritual and function.

Home office: steal nature’s focus tricks

• Put your desk near daylight if possible, and keep your immediate view calm (one plant, one object, one texture).
• Choose materials that reduce glare and feel steady: matte surfaces, wood grain, linen pinboards.

Mistakes to Avoid (A.K.A. How to Not Turn “Organic” Into “Confusing”)

• Buying “natural-looking” stuff that’s basically plastic cosplay. If it can’t age well, it’ll age weird.
• Overdoing rustic. A branch can be sculpture. Ten branches is a haunted forest.
• Confusing beige with calm. Calm comes from balance and texture, not just removing color like it offended you.
• Ignoring air quality. A beautiful room that smells stale is like a gorgeous cake made of cardboard.

Conclusion: Designing From Nature Is a Practice, Not a Purchase

Spencer Fung’s Remodelista advice can be distilled into one sentence: start with light and air, honor craft, choose materials that last, and let nature
guide your palette, texture, and sense of time. Whether you’re planning a full renovation or just trying to make your apartment feel less like a
stress sandwich, nature-led design is surprisingly doablebecause it’s based on attention, not excess.

You don’t need a spa budget to design like you respect the planet and your nervous system. You just need a few honest materials, a willingness to let
imperfection breathe, and maybe a short walk that “accidentally” turns into research.

Extra: Nature-Led Design “Experiences” You Can Try (Hands-On, Real-World, and Actually Kind of Fun)

To make the idea of “designing from nature” stick, it helps to treat it like a series of small experiments. Designers and homeowners who adopt this
approach often describe a similar learning curve: at first, you focus on the look (colors, materials), but over time you start noticing how the room
feels (sound, air, light shifts, and how your body moves through the space). Below are practical experiences you can create in your own homeno
special credentials required, just curiosity and a little patience.

Experiment 1: The Leaf Palette Challenge

Grab 8–12 fallen leaves (or pine needles, seed pods, or small stones) from a local park. Lay them out on white paper near a window. Now pull three
colors from the collection: a light, a medium, and a dark. Use those as your color rules for one corner of a roomthrow pillow covers, a vase, a
book stack, a small rug. The “experience” here is discovering that nature palettes are rarely pure. They’re dusty, complex, and calming because they
have built-in variation.

Experiment 2: Texture Overhaul in One Square Yard

Pick a tiny zone: the spot next to your sofa, your bedside table, or the entry bench. Add three textures that feel good to touch: linen, wool, raw
wood, stone, woven grass, matte ceramic. Live with it for a week. Many people notice the same thing: their eyes relax because the space stops
relying on shiny surfaces and hard edges to “look finished.” Texture becomes the visual interest, which means you can own fewer objects.

Experiment 3: “Show the Process” Without Renovating

Choose one item that visibly shows handwork: a hand-thrown mug, a woven basket with irregularity, a lamp shade made by a local maker, a vintage stool
with worn edges. Put it somewhere you’ll interact with daily. The experience is subtle: you start valuing objects for their making, not just their
styling. That shift naturally reduces impulse purchases, because machine-perfect decor starts feeling a little… emotionally flat.

Experiment 4: The Fresh-Air Ritual

For seven days, open windows (even briefly) at the same time each daymorning if you can. Pair it with a micro-routine: water plants, wipe the
kitchen counter, or do a two-minute stretch. You’re not just “getting air”; you’re training your home to feel alive and cyclical, like nature.
People often report that the ritual makes the whole space feel cleaner and more intentionaleven before anything looks different.

Experiment 5: Patina Appreciation Week

Walk around your home and identify three “imperfections” you usually want to fix: a small scratch, worn wood, slightly uneven plaster, faded fabric.
For one week, treat those marks as character, not failure. If something is genuinely damaged, repair itbut don’t erase history just because it isn’t
Instagram-smooth. The experience can be surprisingly freeing: you stop living like your furniture is on probation.

Experiment 6: Nature’s Lighting Lesson

Spend one evening using only layered, warm lightingno harsh overheads. Use a floor lamp, a table lamp, and one soft accent (like a small shaded lamp
or wall sconce). Notice how your mood changes, how conversation feels, and how textures suddenly matter more than “decor.” Nature never lights a
landscape with a single ceiling fixture; it uses gradation and shadow. Your home can too.

Experiment 7: “Noble Materials” in Miniature

If budget is tight, don’t chase full upgradescollect small doses of lasting materials. A stone trivet that becomes a countertop landing pad.
A solid wood cutting board that lives out on display. Linen napkins instead of disposable paper. A wool throw that replaces three synthetic blankets.
The experience is cumulative: your home starts feeling grounded because the materials have weight, texture, and longevityqualities we instinctively
associate with nature.

Put together, these experiments create a bigger outcome: you begin designing like nature designsthrough layering, adaptation, and time. That’s the
real lesson behind Spencer Fung’s work. The goal isn’t to mimic the outdoors with fake vines and plastic “wood-look” everything. It’s to let your home
function like a supportive habitat: breathable, tactile, calm, and built to age with youwithout falling apart the moment life shows up with shoes on.

The post Expert Advice: Thoughts on Designing from Nature with Spencer Fung appeared first on Global Travel Notes.