Less design, more thoughtful space. Reflections from a two-week study trip to Japan with the Estonian Association of Architects — on what Japanese architecture can teach homes in Estonia too.

In Estonia, we overdo interior architecture. That is an uncomfortable thought that started to haunt me after the very first site visits.

One more special material. One more finish chasing a new kind of wow effect. One more perfectly resolved detail that smells of money spent. As if we constantly had to add something to a space for it to make an impression. And keep inventing new tricks so that the interior architect’s work looks “special” and original enough.

In Japan, I experienced again and again how little it actually takes for a space to make you stop. Sometimes even catch your breath.

This does not mean that Japanese architecture is simple. Quite the opposite. I was amazed by how exceptionally well thought out the spaces were. Yet the work never tried to draw attention to itself.

Space begins with the view, not the material

One of the strongest experiences for me was how Japan weaves space and nature together.

A small garden can feel much larger than it really is. A single, deliberately framed view can change the meaning of an entire room. Sometimes you see only part of the landscape; sometimes you are led through several rooms so that the next view opens up at exactly the right moment.

And the most fascinating part is that you may not notice this guidance at all.

On Naoshima and Inujima, I saw again and again how architecture, art and nature formed a single whole. At the Teshima Art Museum, however, there was a moment when the space felt almost otherworldly. You did not stand there as an observer of architecture; you became part of the space, the light and the surrounding nature.

It made me think about how often we start planning a home from the wrong end.

What should the kitchen furniture look like? What material should the wall be? Which light fixture should we use?

But what do you see when you step out of the bedroom in the morning? What do you see when you sit at the dining table? Does furniture hide the best view in the living room? How does the space change with the light over the course of the day?

Good home planning does not only mean that everything you need fits in. It also means noticing and bringing out what makes a space special. Or even perfect?

Japanese architecture: extreme precision and deliberate imperfection

That is how, in Japan, I put into words one of the most captivating contradictions for myself.

On the one hand, exceptional precision. Proportions, lines of movement, the way materials meet, the way light is guided. Everything seems thought through to the last detail.

On the other hand, the space leaves room for nature, time and imperfection.

Wood ages. Concrete carries the marks of its formwork. The placement of stones feels natural. Light moves across surfaces and changes the space hour by hour.

Some surfaces are rough, others silky. Some details are almost invisible.

What spoke to me was the honesty of the materials. The smell of wood, a texture you can feel under your hand, signs of wear, the natural character of each material. Even modest rooms could feel incredibly good.

At some point I realised: behind all of this lay an enormous amount of work.

That is mastery: when everything is thought through so thoroughly that the result does not feel forced.

The experience also made me rethink what high-quality materials mean in interior architecture. An expensive material does not make a space valuable in itself. What matters more is whether it is in the right place, in the right proportion and in the right combination.

Sometimes the most valuable material is the one we choose not to add.

A good space does not have to be big or perfect

One of my most surprising realisations concerned the size of a space.

In Japan, I found that a low ceiling or a small room is not necessarily a drawback at all. Yes, I was genuinely struck by this discovery! When proportions, light and views are skilfully resolved, a limited space can feel far more open and interesting than a large but poorly thought-out interior.

I also remember old, simple and at times quite worn rooms where it felt exceptionally good to be. Once again I was puzzled and kept wondering. I tried to understand how they had achieved it.

Not everything was perfectly finished. But the space had character. There was life in it.

More and more, I think that good interior architecture does not have to be visible all the time. Sometimes its value lies precisely in the fact that people feel natural and at ease in a space, without ever thinking about how much work it took to get there.

The trip to Japan also taught me a lot about hospitality. About how a carefully prepared welcome, attentiveness and a sincere attitude change the whole experience.

After all, a home is more than a beautiful interior. It is a place where people live, meet, rest and feel cared for.

What can Japanese architecture teach homes in Estonia?

I did not come back from Japan wanting to design Japanese-style interiors. After everything I experienced, that idea feels far too simplistic.

Estonian nature, light, climate and way of life are different. We do not need to copy Japanese architecture.

But we have a great deal to learn from it.

Especially when we are planning the interior architecture of a private house or the layout of a new home.

Before choosing finishing materials and furnishings, it is worth asking:

• Does the layout make use of the home’s best views and natural light?
• Is moving between rooms logical and pleasant?
• Does the furniture layout support the proportions of the space?
• Which materials age gracefully and will still look good years from now?
• Is there enough calm in the space, or have we tried to fit too much into it?

These questions matter most at the start of a new development or the design of a private house. That is when the layout, openings, lighting and the relationships between rooms can still be changed.

Later, a seemingly small decision can turn out to be very expensive.

For me, timeless, high-quality interior architecture means fewer and fewer showy one-off solutions and more and more holistic spatial thinking.

This does not mean giving up beautiful materials or details. Quite the opposite. It means that every choice must have a reason.

Less designing. More thinking.

The trip to Japan gave me much more than architectural role models.

It made me think about what kind of space I want to create myself. What feeling it should give people. And how much it really takes for something extraordinary to emerge.

The thought that stayed with me most strongly is that the value of a space does not come from how much we add to it, but from how precisely we can recognise what matters.

I came back wanting to design less. But to think much more. To think about what really matters.

Good house planning decides more about a home than any finish ever will. Some time ago, I had two full-service private house projects with author supervision running at the same time. One was in the general construction phase, the other had reached the point of ordering custom furniture. And in both cases the same thing came up again: people want to talk about the finishes of a home much earlier than about the decisions that actually determine the quality of the space.

That is completely understandable. A floor, a wall colour, a light fixture or a sofa are easy to imagine. They are visible and emotional choices. Layout, building services, passageways and furniture dimensions seem more technical next to them.

But these are exactly what should come first.

If the logic between the rooms does not work, no high-quality materials, good furniture or large budget will save the result.

1. House planning starts with how the rooms relate

In house planning, don’t judge a layout room by room. What matters is looking at the whole home as a sequence.

How do you get from the hallway to the kitchen? Where is the utility room? How do you move from the kitchen to the terrace? How far are the children’s bedrooms from the parents’ bedroom? Does the location of the bathroom support everyday use?

These relationships determine whether the house will later feel natural, or whether you will be making small, awkward detours every day.

2. Furniture placement

Don’t leave furniture as the last layer of the layout. Especially in a private house.

The positions of the sofa, dining table, beds, wardrobes and larger custom furniture affect walls, passageways, sockets, lighting points and sometimes even the positions of windows or doors.

In practice, a room may be big enough on paper, but the question is what actually fits in it and how much free space remains once the furniture is in place.

3. Doors and passageways

A layout mistake does not have to be big. Sometimes a door that opens in the wrong direction or a passageway that is too narrow is enough.

Mistakes like these may not bother you on a drawing. In everyday life, though, you notice them every time one door bumps into another, there is not enough room in front of the wardrobe, or two people cannot comfortably pass each other in the kitchen.

These problems are easy to solve on a drawing. In a finished house, they are not.

4. Storage

Storage is not a cupboard added wherever nothing else would fit. Storage is part of the layout.

The hallway, walk-in wardrobes, kitchen, utility room, bathroom and bedrooms all need their own logic.

The more everyday things can be stored naturally within the space, the less you later have to compensate with furniture or random storage solutions.

5. The kitchen and building services

Work out the final logic of the kitchen before you lock in the water, ventilation and electrical points.

The sink, hob and fridge are not just three elements on a plan. What matters is the distance between them, the length of the worktop, how the appliances open, the passageways and how the kitchen is used day to day.

When the building services are already in place, the interior architecture too often has to adapt to them. It is better the other way round.

6. Electrical and lighting

The electrical and lighting plan depends on how the space actually works.

For example, where does the sofa stand? Where will the dining table go? At what height are the bedside tables? Where is task lighting needed? Which surfaces do we want to light, and which can stay calmer?

That is why, for me, lighting is part of house planning, not the last choice after everything else has been solved.

If you make the lighting plan before a proper furniture layout, you will very likely need compromises later.

7. Custom furniture and technical details

Custom furniture often seems like the last stage of furnishing. In reality, its requirements can affect construction much earlier.

Integrated lighting, sockets, ventilation, curtain tracks, cornices, built-in appliances, hidden doors and other details only work if you plan for them early on.

The later you discover these issues, the more likely it is that you will have to replace a good solution with the one that is simplest to build.

Why house planning comes before the finishes

Because finishes can usually be changed. You can repaint a wall, swap a chair or replace a rug.

A wall, an electrical point, the plumbing or custom furniture ordered for the wrong place are much harder and more expensive to change.

This is also why involving an interior architect is most valuable before the important decisions in construction start locking in one after another.

When to have your house planning reviewed by an interior architect

Ideally, before you give final approval to the general construction and engineering solutions. But a consultation can also be useful when the architectural design already exists. An architectural design and the spatial logic of interior architecture are not quite the same thing.

Before construction, it is worth checking at least the layout, furniture placement, storage, the logic of the kitchen, the principles of lighting and the technical decisions that are hard to change later.

You don’t have to decide everything at once. What matters is knowing what to decide now and what can wait. For me, that is one of the principles of a good project. Not more options, but the right decisions in the right order. That is the core of my approach, and it is also what I brought back from a study trip to Japan.

If your house is being designed, about to go into construction or already under construction, you can have your plans reviewed by an interior architect before confirming the next decisions.