ALKI DESIGN

architecture studio
wānaka, NZ

CLOSE

ALKI DESIGN

architecture studio wānaka, NZ

The Timber Series - Volume l: People
This year, I want to write about timber. Not as a stylistic preference or an aesthetic shorthand for warmth, but as a material that continues to sit at the centre of how humans build, inhabit, and understand space. Timber occupies a rare position in architecture: it is structural and sensory, technical and cultural, measurable and deeply felt. This series explores timber through four lenses — People, Planet, Performance, and Poetry — not as separate ideas, but as overlapping ways of understanding why timber persists across time, climate, and culture. This first piece begins with people, and with a question that is often implied but rarely examined carefully: Why do timber spaces tend to feel good to be in?
Humans do not experience buildings as neutral

The relationship between humans and natural materials has been studied extensively across environmental psychology, neuroscience, and health design. Within this field, biophilic design has emerged as a useful framework — not because it offers tidy answers, but because it acknowledges something architects have long intuited: humans do not experience buildings as neutral containers.

"Architecture operates on the nervous system, whether we acknowledge it or not."

We respond to them physiologically, emotionally, and subconsciously. Architecture operates on the nervous system, whether we acknowledge it or not.

Timber as a direct expression of nature

Timber is one of the most immediate ways nature enters the built environment. Unlike manufactured materials that strive for uniformity, wood carries visible evidence of its origin. Grain direction, growth rings, density variation, knots, and imperfections are not decorative overlays; they are intrinsic to the material itself.

In this way, timber quietly communicates that it once belonged to a living system. That recognition appears to matter more than we often give it credit for.

Charred cypress forms a protective skin — a deliberate burn that shields the timber from UV and environmental fluctuation, echoing the innate survival strategies trees develop in fire-prone landscapes.
Biddi Rowley
What the research actually supports

A growing body of research suggests that exposure to natural materials, including wood, can be associated with reduced stress responses and increased feelings of comfort and calm. In some studies, these responses are measured physiologically rather than through self-reporting alone, indicating that material environments may influence the nervous system at a level below conscious interpretation.

"..wood, can be associated with reduced stress responses and increased feelings of comfort and calm."

At the same time, it is important to be precise. Timber does not automatically create wellbeing, and it is not accurate to suggest that timber buildings are inherently restorative or therapeutic. Many studies are small in scale, short in duration, or context-specific. Cultural expectations, climate, detailing, and use all play a significant role in how a space is perceived and inhabited.

But dismissing the research entirely would also be a mistake.

Inside, the same cypress is re-expressed as crafted furniture, held in quiet restraint against clay plaster and other natural materials, allowing texture, weight, and honesty to lead.
Biddi Rowley
A more useful reading of the evidence

When read carefully, the evidence supports a more subtle and arguably more valuable conclusion. Timber-rich environments appear to be less physiologically demanding. They place fewer demands on our attention. They soften acoustic and visual conditions, and contribute to spaces that are easier to occupy over time.

"Timber’s strength lies in its restraint. It does not compete for attention or demand interpretation."

This matters because much of contemporary life is already overstimulating. Architecture does not need to add to that burden. Timber’s strength lies in its restraint. It does not compete for attention or demand interpretation. Instead, it supports a background condition of calm, allowing other aspects of life — conversation, rest, focus — to come forward.

conclusion

Timber’s relevance is not rooted in novelty. It endures because it aligns with how humans perceive, touch, and move through space. Its appeal is not symbolic; it is experiential.

The materials we build with shape how we feel long before we articulate why. Timber’s quiet capacity to support comfort, familiarity, and calm may be one of the reasons it continues to matter — not as a solution, but as a companion to thoughtful architecture.

Next month, this series will turn toward Planet, examining forests, growthcycles, carbon storage, and the responsibilities embedded in choosing wood as a building material.

For now, this first lens offers a grounded starting point:

If architecture is ultimately about people, then materiality deserves to be considered not just for how it performs — butfor how it is lived with.