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Y O U R E Y E S O N L Y
Step into one of his spaces, and you’ll notice it
immediately. The way the air moves. The way light
filters through natural materials. The way your
body, instinctively, feels different. It’s subtle, but
it’s there—a sense of calm, of clarity, of balance.
In an age where cities are designed around
efficiency, and glass towers rise in endless, soulless
uniformity, Precht is fighting for something more
human.
“We talk a lot about sustainability in architecture,”
he says, “but not enough about health. The two
are connected. The materials we live with, the way
spaces breathe, the way buildings interact with
nature—it all affects how we feel.”
Wood, Air, Light: A Blueprint for Better Living
Science backs him up. Studies have shown that
natural materials like wood lower stress, reduce
heart rates, and even improve cognitive function.
One experiment out of Japan found that people
working in timber-lined offices had lower cortisol
levels than those surrounded by artificial materials.
Scandinavian studies have linked natural light
exposure to better sleep and productivity.
Even air quality—the silent killer in many urban
environments—is directly tied to the design of our
spaces.
And yet, most modern buildings choke us with
synthetic materials and artificial lighting that
wrecks our circadian rhythms.
Precht’s architecture does the opposite.
He designs spaces where the walls breathe, the
materials are alive, and the lighting is intuitive, not
invasive. His timber towers, bamboo pavilions, and
modular wooden homes aren’t just beautiful—
they are designed to make people feel better.
“I don’t want to create buildings that look healthy
but actually aren’t,” he says. “I want to design
spaces where you walk in and your body just
knows—this is good for me.”
Beyond the Object: Architecture as an
Experience
But well-being isn’t just about materials. It’s
about how we experience a space. Precht’s
work prioritizes flow, rhythm, and connection to
nature—elements often lost in contemporary
design. His buildings feel less like isolated objects
and more like ecosystems, each one shaped
around the way people actually move, rest, and
interact.
Take his latest project in Bali, where architecture
and nature are fully integrated. Instead of a
standard, enclosed structure, he’s designing a
pavilion that breathes with the climate, where the
air moves naturally, the materials age beautifully,
and the space encourages a slower, more mindful
way of living.
“Bali has this incredible relationship with nature,”
he says. “It’s not about control; it’s about harmony.
That’s something architecture everywhere can
learn from.”
The Future of Well-Being is in Design
For decades, we’ve treated architecture as
separate from health, as if buildings were just
backdrops to our lives. But as anxiety levels spike,
urban stress rises, and more people seek escapes
from synthetic environments, the conversation is
changing.
“We design our diets, our workouts, our
mindfulness practices,” Precht says. “But the
places we spend our lives? We accept whatever’s
given to us. That has to change.”
If Chris Precht has his way, the architecture of
the future won’t just be sustainable—it will be
alive, responsive, and fundamentally designed for
human well-being.
And that might just be the most radical idea in
architecture today.
• The Feather House rethinks solid wood construction—minimal impact, maximum
character. A raw, sculptural form that feels both grounded and totally natural.