Stillness, Light, and Intention: Japanese Style Influences Through the Eyes of an Interior Designer
By Pavlina Campbell:
There is a silence in Japanese interiors that speaks louder than ornament. It is the hush between tatami mats, the pause between shoji screens, the breath held in a tokonoma alcove. For interior designers seeking emotional clarity and spatial poetry, Japanese style influences offer more than aesthetic cues — they offer a philosophy of living.
Unlike Western maximalism or even Scandinavian minimalism, Japanese design is not about subtraction for its own sake. It is about Ma — the space between things. A concept rooted in Zen and Shinto traditions, Ma teaches us that emptiness is not absence, but presence. It is the pause that allows a room to breathe, the margin that invites reflection.
As a designer, I find myself drawn not just to the visual language of Japan — the hinoki wood, the washi paper, the muted palettes — but to its emotional architecture. Japanese interiors are not designed to impress; they are designed to soothe, to humble, to reconnect. They remind us that beauty lives in restraint, and that the most powerful spaces are often the quietest.
1. The Philosophy of Space – Ma (間), Emptiness, and the Art of Spatial Tension
In Japanese design, space is not filled — it is held. Ma (間) is the concept of the interval between things, often translated as “gap,” “pause,” or “emptiness.” But in truth, Ma is far more than a void. It is a presence. A tension. A breath.
Ma is the silence between notes in music, the pause between words in poetry, the margin that allows a room to breathe. It is the space that invites reflection, the emptiness that gives form its meaning. In architecture, Ma guides how rooms flow, how light moves, how people transition from one moment to the next.
Unlike Western design, which often seeks to fill or decorate, Japanese interiors honour restraint. A hallway may be long and bare, not out of austerity, but to create anticipation. A corner may be left untouched, allowing the eye to rest. A single vase in a tokonoma alcove may carry more emotional weight than a gallery wall.
As a designer, I find Ma to be a kind of spatial mindfulness. It teaches us that function and emotion are inseparable. That the most powerful rooms are often the quietest. That beauty lives not in what we add, but in what we choose to leave out.
Book: Stillness: An Exploration of Japanese Aesthetics in Architecture and Design
Link: Concrete Caffeine – Stillness
Why: This book dives into the philosophy of stillness, Ma, and Zen principles in architecture — perfect for readers curious about spatial tension and emotional clarity.
Ma is the silence between
2. Material Intelligence – Wood, Paper, Stone, and the Tactile Soul of Japanese Interiors
Japanese interiors are built from materials that age gracefully. Hinoki cypress, with its pale warmth and subtle scent. Washi paper, softening light like a veil. Tatami mats, woven from rush grass, ground the body and soul.
These materials are not chosen for luxury — they are chosen for honesty. They speak of impermanence, of seasons, of touch. A Japanese interior designer understands that texture is memory. That the grain of wood can hold time. That stone, left raw, can anchor a room in quiet strength.
In my own practice, I often return to this tactile intelligence. It reminds me that beauty is not in perfection, but in patina. In the way a surface invites the hand. In the way a room invites stillness.
Wood, Paper, Stone, and the Tactile Soul of Japanese Interiors
3. Light and Shadow – Inspired by Tanizaki’s In Praise of Shadows
Jun’ichirō Tanizaki wrote that beauty lives in shadow. In the dimness of a lacquer bowl. In the flicker of candlelight on a paper screen. Japanese interiors embrace this chiaroscuro — not to obscure, but to reveal.
Light is never harsh. It is filtered, softened, allowed to pool in corners. Shoji screens diffuse daylight into a gentle glow. Alcoves are lit from above, casting quiet drama on a single ikebana arrangement or ceramic vessel.
This reverence for shadow is not nostalgic — it is radical. It challenges the Western obsession with brightness and exposure. It teaches us that mystery has a place in design. That not everything must be seen to be felt.
“Light and Shadow” or Tanizaki’s influence
Book: In Praise of Shadows by Jun’ichirō Tanizaki
Link: Concrete Caffeine – Japanese Design Books
Why: A foundational text in Japanese aesthetics, this book is essential for understanding the emotional power of shadow in design.
4. The Quiet Power of Colour – Japanese Combinations and Emotional Resonance
In Japanese interiors, colour is never loud. It whispers. It recalls moss on stone, the blush of ume blossoms, the patina of aged copper. These combinations are not chosen for trend or spectacle — they are chosen for harmony, for memory, for the way they make a space feel like a poem.
Traditional Japanese colour theory is deeply tied to nature and seasonality. Designers often draw from the kasane no irome — ancient layered colour pairings used in Heian-era court garments — where combinations like soft plum over pale grey, or indigo over ivory, evoke emotional depth and seasonal transitions.
In contemporary practice, Japanese interior designers often lean into:
Earthy Neutrals – Taupe, sand, and warm greys that echo tatami mats and clay walls
Muted Greens – Shades of bamboo, olive, and moss that connect interiors to gardens and forests
Soft Whites and Off-Blacks – Not stark, but softened by texture and light, creating contrast without aggression
Dusty Pinks and Ochres – Inspired by sakura, persimmons, and autumn leaves — used sparingly, like punctuation
These colours are rarely used in isolation. They are layered with natural materials to create a tactile depth that goes beyond the visual. In Japanese design, colour is not decoration. It is an atmosphere. It is emotion.
Book: Kasane: The Colours of Japan (if you mention kasane no irome)
Link: Architecture Lab – Best Colour Theory Books
Why: This roundup includes historical and contemporary colour theory texts, ideal for readers wanting to understand palette psychology and seasonal nuance.
5. Nature as a Design Partner – Seasonal Shifts, Borrowed Scenery (Shakkei), and Impermanence
Japanese interiors do not shut nature out — they invite it in. Through open engawa corridors, through garden views framed like paintings, through materials that breathe with the seasons.
Shakkei, or borrowed scenery, is the art of framing external landscapes within the interior. A distant mountain, a neighbour’s maple tree, a glimpse of sky — all become part of the room’s composition. This practice reflects a deep humility: the understanding that design is not isolated, but relational.
Seasonality is honoured through subtle shifts — a change in textile, a new flower in the tokonoma, a different tea bowl. These gestures remind us that impermanence is not loss, but rhythm. That beauty is not fixed, but fleeting.
“Nature as a design partner” or “Shakkei”
Book: The Japanese Garden
Link: Concrete Caffeine – The Japanese Garden
Why: A beautiful exploration of borrowed scenery, seasonal flow, and the relationship between architecture and landscape.
Japanese interiors do not shut nature out
6. Japanese Style Influences in Contemporary Practice – How Interior Designers Reinterpret Tradition
Today, Japanese style influences ripple through global design — not as mimicry, but as philosophy. Interior designers reinterpret these traditions with sensitivity, blending them into contemporary homes that honour both function and feeling.
In my own studio, I’ve found Japanese principles especially resonant in Cambridge and Letchworth homes. A muted palette paired with dark wood. A layout that prioritises flow and quiet zones. A lighting scheme that celebrates shadow. These choices are not aesthetic trends — they are emotional strategies.
Whether through a single material, a spatial gesture, or a moment of restraint, Japanese design teaches us to listen. To edit. To honour the soul of a space.
7. Closing Reflection – A Call to Design with Humility, Restraint, and Emotional Clarity
To design like a Japanese interior designer is to design with humility. With reverence for silence, for nature, for the unseen. It is to understand that a room is not a stage, but a sanctuary.
In a world of noise and novelty, Japanese style influences offer a quiet rebellion. They remind us that beauty lives in restraint. That emotion lives in space. That clarity lives in shadow.
Japanese flower arrangement
If this philosophy speaks to you — if you’re longing for a home that feels calm, intentional, and emotionally alive — I’d be honoured to help you shape it. Whether you're drawn to Japanese style influences or simply seeking a space that restores and reflects who you are, I invite you to book a consultation. Let’s begin designing with stillness, beauty, and purpose.
