The Hidden Self in Space
Exploring the psychological interplay between architecture, memory, and our inner world.
The role of the unconscious mind in interpreting architecture is fascinating. Our experiences of spaces and buildings go far beyond conscious understanding; they tap into deeply rooted neural networks and unconscious, forming impressions that linger long after we leave. Architecture, then, becomes not just a physical space but a psychological and emotional landscape that can shape how we think, feel, and even dream.
The Mind’s Impressions on Space
As we experience a building, our brain forms neural connections, constructing an “image” that keeps working in the background, even after we’ve stopped consciously focusing on it. Our mind replays these sensory interactions, which subtly shape our memories and influence our moods and perceptions. This is why certain spaces feel comforting while others are unsettling: our brains have already categorized them based on past experiences and ingrained biases, which we then project unconsciously onto these spaces.
These unconscious biases come to the forefront particularly in architecture, affecting both the creator and the user. Architects, for instance, embed personal preferences and lifestyle choices into their designs, often without realizing it. This phenomenon is seen in subtle choices like form, scale, and color—each of which communicates a psychological message that users experience on a visceral level. We could say that “architecture is a lifestyle”: how we live and what we value unconsciously project themselves into the spaces we design and inhabit.
Interestingly, this unconscious projection can sometimes cloud our objective understanding of a space. We might seek clarity in our designs, yet end up embedding our own subjective interpretations. This creates cognitive biases, especially when architects try to reconstruct or reinterpret past works, as they often project their own ideals and values into these reinterpretations. Just as we unconsciously bring our biases to design, users bring theirs into interpreting the final product, forming a continuous, evolving interplay.
The design, in a perpetual state of "becoming," emerges not solely from the architect's vision but through the combined forces of intent and inhabitation. It is shaped by conscious decisions as much as by unconscious projections, resulting in a space that is both crafted and continuously redefined by those who dwell within it.
The Psychological Influence of Color and Form
One powerful example of this psychological dynamic is the role of color. According to color theory, colors are associated with particular moods and emotions: red suggests warmth or excitement, blue evokes calm, and gray conveys gloom. When an architect uses these colors in a space, they create a certain psychological atmosphere, and users react emotionally and unconsciously. Similarly, form and scale create spatial tension that the human mind absorbs and interprets, often without conscious effort. Users may not realize why they feel drawn to a certain corner or why they avoid a particular room, yet these unconscious reactions are the mind’s response to the architectural cues embedded in the design.
Reciprocal Influence: Architecture as a Mirror
The mutual projection between individuals and space is reminiscent of Nietzsche’s thought-provoking statement: “When you gaze into an abyss, the abyss gazes back.” As we dwell within a space, it begins to dwell within us, shaping our internal experiences just as much as we project our thoughts onto it. This back-and-forth interaction between self and space raises an interesting question: what else might spaces be unconsciously projecting back to us?
Fictional Parallels to Architectural Projection
This idea is explored in fiction as well, such as in Haruki Murakami’s Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. Murakami’s novel presents overlapping narratives, where visuals and elements from one story seem to spill into the other. The experience is a lot like inhabiting a space whose design leaves impressions in the subconscious—creating a sensation that what’s familiar from one environment is echoing back in another. This fictional parallel invites a deeper inquiry: how might architectural spaces be creating unconscious associations, altering our perceptions in ways we barely recognize or we barely realize?
I recently came across a story about a man who had spent his entire life in the bustle of the city. One day, while walking through the countryside, he was struck by an overwhelming wave of nostalgia. Memories of his childhood began to resurface—moments he’d forgotten even existed. Intrigued and unsettled, he returned to that place repeatedly, searching for the source of these long-buried memories. Eventually, he realized it was the faint, earthy scent that had unlocked them. That familiar smell drew him back to his grandmother’s house in the countryside, where he’d spent summers as a child, grounding him in a past that had faded but never truly disappeared.
Projection and Dream Symbolism
Similarly, Carl Jung’s work on the unconscious mind and dream symbolism touches upon the concept of projection. Jung believed that our dreams reflect symbols and elements that hint at unexpressed aspects of ourselves. Architecturally speaking, as certain spaces evoke symbols or meanings in our minds that go beyond conscious interpretation. Buildings and rooms might trigger emotions or memories in us that we can’t immediately rationalize, as though each space were a “totem” from which we draw meaning, much like in the movie Inception.
In the film, totems act as anchors between dream and reality, and each person knows their totem’s exact weight, shape, and texture as a grounding point for their perception. Similarly, architecture becomes a kind of totem, anchoring our senses and giving us a sense of place while subtly guiding our experience and grounding us in reality.
The Lasting Dialogue Between Mind and Space
As much as we consciously experience architecture, an entire world of perception operates below the surface. We unconsciously project, interpret, and absorb the essence of spaces, and in doing so, architecture becomes more than a static entity—it becomes a powerful tool for shaping our psychological landscapes. Spaces do not simply house us; they engage in a constant dialogue with us, leaving impressions, evoking memories, and sometimes even becoming symbols of our own hidden self. In architecture, the unconscious mind finds a medium, and through its silent influence, every space we inhabit lives on within us.
If this exploration into the hidden layers of architecture has sparked a deeper curiosity in you, why not join the journey further? Subscribe to uncover more insights that go beyond walls and facades, into the silent dialogues that shape our experiences, memories, and identities. Together, let’s continue revealing how architecture speaks to the mind and, in turn, how we project our inner worlds onto the spaces we design and dwell in.