This episode is a little different from the others and touches on several design choices I observed while traveling. The first half of the episode describes the Oodi library in Finland, and the second half describes interior decor and space saving strategies in Japan and Swedish homes. I briefly discuss other designs along the way.

Hello everyone, and welcome to the sixth episode of Baggage Allowance. This episode is going to be more relaxed than some of the more recent episodes. The focus is on design, and will be about things I encountered that seemed completely obvious to the locals, but struck me as ingenious. The focus again is on things, not ideas, not behavior, not people, but things. Now, I am speaking purely from my perspective, so you might find some of this, well obvious, in which case humor my learning experience. So, let’s begin with Finland.

In the capital Helsinki, there is a place called Oodi. It is a library that my host called the nation’s living room, which perfectly describes the place. In this three story building, only the top floor resembles a library, so let’s start there. This room had the highest ceiling, I would say about three stories high. The ceiling was not flat, but wavy and plastered to look like the inside of a cave with all the stalagmites removed. A design choice I noticed right away was that the bookshelves were only 4 shelves tall and spaced far apart. This was a great design choice. Floor to ceiling bookshelves make sense along the perimeter of a room. However, in the center of a room, it obstructs line of sight, and in excess it could give the feeling of a warehouse or shopping aisle. I visited many modern libraries (or renovated old ones) that made the same design choice, so it isn’t revolutionary, but I felt this one was particularly well done. Many libraries with this aim made their bookshelves 2 layers tall. Anything taller, and short people and tall people might have a different experience of the space. They only do this in high traffic areas of the library, because doing this everywhere would reduce too much shelving space.

Oodi bookshelves were 3 layers tall around sitting areas, and 4 layers tall elsewhere. The 4 layer bookshelves were of the exact height, where I could see over them from a few steps back, but blocked my peripheral vision when up close. This gave a sense of privacy when I was looking down at a book, but then when I was finished and looked up, I had the ability to scan the horizon again. The shelves were spaced far enough apart that this ability should exist even for those shorter than me, to an extent. Now I didn’t pause long enough to be sure, but I have a suspicion the floor was slightly inclined, and the bookshelves were of different heights trending up in opposite direction. From afar it looked like all the shelves were of the same height, but up close the tallest shelf ended at my eye level, while others fell just below my shoulder. This might have been to accommodate people of different heights as well, or maybe it was part of some grand design of the architect that I didn’t pick up on. Anyhow, I hope this illustrates how much thought and precision can be put into the design of a space. After all, its been a couple of minutes and I only spoke about bookshelves. Yeah, let’s move on.

So anyhow, the third floor also had the children’s area which contained a large play rug and some toys for kids to play with. A little bit to the side were a bunch of board games for slightly older children and adults to play with. The play area itself was nothing spectacular, but while we are on the subject, there is something about Finnish children that is worth mentioning on the topic of good design. Not the children themselves, but the maternity kits the mothers receive. The Finnish government sends every expected mother a maternity kit with all the essentials needed to raise the child. They provide sleeping wear, inner wear, and outwear (which changes based on the season of the expected delivery). These cloths should satisfy all the child’s needs till about 12-14 months of age. In addition it contains plenty of blankets, towels, and bedding, a pacifier, baby bottle, breast pump, nipple cream, a “baby manual”, basically anything you could think of; the list is pretty long. Even the box that everything is delivered in is cushioned to serve as crib for the newborn. Some companies even formed to try and export these maternity kits to other countries. Mothers have a 1000 things on their mind when expecting a child, so this just takes some the pressure off. They are now free to busily try to baby proof the house, which by the way is another interesting observation. All homes in Finland and Sweden are required by law to be constructed with a locking cabinet to store bleach and other household chemicals.

Now onto the 2^nd floor of Oodi library. This floor does not resemble a library at all. I call it the extra-curricular floor. There was a makerspace with a 3D printer, lasercutter, textile machines, soldering stations complete with air outtake valves, and a bunch of equipment that I didn’t even know what it was. There were also a bunch of meeting rooms, recording studios, and rehearsal rooms for bands or theater troupes. There was even a section dedicated to video games, which resembled something like a cross between an internet cafe and an arcade. Finally, on the ground floor, was a movie theater, a stage for live performances, restaurants, and a huge lounge area.

I have seen multi-media libraries before, but this library really takes it to another level. It seems like an awesome place to hang out after work or school, because it is open relatively late, closing only at 10pm on weekdays and 8pm on weekends. Put together, the place sort of reminded me of what an indoor shopping mall would look like. Imagine an American mall without all the clothing and department stores; you would be left with a children’s play area – possibly with something like Lego Land or a toy store nearby – a Barnes and Nobel, a movie theater, an arcade, some cafes and restaurants, and finally a few electronic shops. This got me thinking about the merits of such a library. Instead of tax dollars and trying to figure out what exactly should or should not be included in the building, would it be better to just have a mall and let the free market decide?

Well, I don’t know. If I had lived in Helsinki, I could totally imagine visiting this place just to hang out, possibly joining one of the many club and activity groups here. On the other hand, inviting my friends to hang out in a shopping mall does not seem to have the same sort of appeal. I think its because when you are at a mall you are always surrounded by advertising (some more subtle than others) and the constant buzz of commerce. Its like visiting a webpage that presents only the information you need versus one that contains a bunch of gimmicks to keep you on the site longer and show you more ads. The former is always the better experience. That being said, it is possible for private companies to give people this same superior experience while still making a profit. There are bunch of incubator spaces that make money by selling coffee and food to customers, but you are under no obligation to buy anything in order to work or meet someone there. However, the problem with these places is that they tend to be expensive, as the people who are buying something are subsiding the cost of the space for those who are not.

A better solution is the entry fee solution, where you charge people to enter a space, but the use of anything and everything inside is free. This the Disney Land solution, but in order to make this work, people need to feel they are not being bombarded by advertising or have to still pay for most things beyond the entry fee. Disney Land fails both these tests, but I have seen other places more successful. For example, in the Czech Republic I went to a place where you pay to enter, but after that everything inside was free. This included tea, coffee, juices, and even some tobacco products. Though many people don’t ask for any of this, they just want to hang out and play board games. So Barnes and Nobel, if you are listening, please visit the Oodi library in Finland and be inspired.

Now there is one last thing at Oodi I want to talk about, and that is the basement restrooms. First thing to note is that it is a single giant restroom that it is not gender separated. In the center of this rather large square room were a bunch of sinks to wash your hands. On the perimeter were all the stalls. They all contain floor to ceiling doors. The lighting in the stalls were such that you can see the shadow of the person inside when they were near the door, but not when they were sitting on the toilet. Now why does all this matter. Well, I am merely pointing this out because compared to basically every other country I have been, American public toilets seem to have the least privacy. Like seriously, there is a huge gap under the door and a rather large space around it as well. I always though the reason for this was so that it is noticeable if someone passes out on the floor from a drug overdose, but I later learned that American restrooms have had this design long before drug overdoses became the epidemic it is today. Besides, there are other ways to handle that concern. Like I said, every single country I have been to use much more private doors, with the widest gaps being a few centimeters above the floor – that’s it. Another advantage for doing this is that it allows for single unisex restrooms, which resolves a whole lot of ridiculous debate and restroom policing.

And while we are on the subject of toilets, I just have to talk about Japanese toilets. The rumors are indeed true. I came across toilets in Japan with so many buttons I had no idea what was going on. Now fortunately for me, they all also included a stupid button with which I could just flush and move on. So I am afraid I won’t be able to describe all the wonderful features of Japanese toilets, as I never got the courage to find someone to explain to me all the wonderful features. Now, that being said there was one toilet feature I did notice, and I thought was awesome. Some toilets, though not all, had a sink built on top of the toilet tank. Once you flush the toilet, instead of refilling the tank directly, the toilet will automatically start the sink, and the water drains directly into the tank. I don’t think this was meant to be water saving feature as much as it was meant to be a space saving feature. In most of the world, toilets are in a separate room from the shower and bathtub, always. Japan is no different. Now together, the toilet plus shower or bath room is about the same size as a small all in one bathroom in the USA, but Japanese people seem to really like their baths, because while the bathroom is relatively spacious, the toilet is literally a closet. The smallest one I used was about 3 feet / 90cm wide and 4 feet / 1.2 meters deep with a folding door. My knees sitting down are about a centimeter away from touching the door, and turning around a full 180 degrees without touching the toilet or the door was a bit of a circus. In other words, there was no place for a separate sink. So put it on top of the toilet.

Now I admit that having such a small toilet was a bit of an inconvenience; however, I do like the idea of separating the toilet from the shower and bath. I used to enjoy long showers as a teenager, which was upsetting for everyone else in the house because I closed off the toilet. I also think American bathrooms are just too big. In fact, everything in American homes: living rooms, kitchens, bedrooms: they are all just too big. Not just that, they are poorly designed, so despite being big in terms of square area, they still feel small and cramped. To get you an idea, in Tokyo, I stayed at a flat where a family of 4 was living in a 50 sq meter home. To give you an idea, that is about the same area as a large two car garage. Now this did feel like a tight squeeze, and the only reason why I was able to stay over was because the children were away on a school trip, and I used one of their rooms. When I try to imagine what family life would be like with all four of them at home (and I am not), it still seemed reasonable though. The son and daughter each had a separate room with a desk and futon, and the parents had their own space which I did not see, but seemed reasonably sized.

One reason why they were able to pull this off is because Japanese buildings use a lot of sliding and folding doors. By using these, it is possible to avoid the dead space around the opening of the doors. They also just made all the appliances smaller. The fridge could fit under the counter, the washing machine was supper narrow so laundry was done even on weekdays, and they had no dryer. The dining table was also used as a space to prep food when cooking. They also never bought in bulk. I am not certain, but it seemed the wife was shopping almost everyday, by walking to the nearby store. I think that is another big reason why people in Europe and Japan can pull this off. It is one thing to go shopping everyday when you can wander into a nearby store in pajamas, but another if it is 15 to 30 minute drive to the nearest grocery store.

Now that was a little extreme, but I wanted to show what was possible. I should also note that apart from the sliding and folding doors, the furniture of this house was all Western: twin beds, dining table with chairs, etc. I also stayed at more traditional Japanese homes where you sat on the floor to eat dinner from a low rise table, and rolled out a futon to sleep at night. The cool thing about these homes was that because a person could be in a room sitting down on the ground or standing up, there are two layers of decorations. One layer is in the line of sight of someone on the floor, while the other is on the line of sight of someone standing tall. I saw a similar decorating pattern in India and Qatar, but this was often limited to only the altar room or praying corner. By contrast, traditional Japanese homes had this throughout. These more traditional homes use tatami mats for flooring, which I must say I fell in love with. It felt like walking on tight-knit carpet, but more importantly I like how they looked.

Unlike carpet flooring in the United States, where the goal is to make the carpet appear like one continuous rollout, tatami mat flooring is made up of “tiles” of this tatami material, with each tile being about the size of a double bed. The edges between these mats are knitted with black cloth, which contrasts with the light pale color of the tatami mat. This is what makes it awesome. My bedroom in one of these places looked huge, but I realized after a bit of walking around that it actually was about the same size as my bedroom back home, about 10 feet by 14 feet, or about 13 sq meters. What made it appear huge was the tatami mats. Now, I am no interior designer, but I think what is happening is the following: when I enter a large room, say my American bedroom, the floor is all uniform. So my eye ignores it, which in turn draws my attention to the wall or furniture. Because I am looking at objects or obstacles, it makes the space feel small. On the other hand, the tatami mats draw my attention to the dark lines between the mats. So instead of my eyes drifting to an obstacle, my eye is looking at empty space, which make the room appear bigger. Furthermore, I compared the size of a tatami mat to a double bed on purpose, because in the old days, people used to sleep on them, and they were sized accordingly. This intentionally or accidentally partitioned the room into human friendly areas. My mind considered each tatami mat as big enough to handle one activity, so this room had space for about 8 activities. That’s a large space. By contrast my bedroom at home was poorly partitioned, so it seemed like there was room for only one activity. Of course, the reality was different. Despite having a king bed, there was still plenty of space next to it to iron cloths, do yoga, or something else, but because there was no visual indicator partitioning the space, my mind just treated it as a walkway, and thus not usable space. Upon this realization, I began thinking about just how much space back home was really just dead space. Some of this is due to my poor interior decorating skills, but some of it is also because homes in other countries, not just Japan, have much fewer hallways than in America.

I suspect the reason for this is that compared to most other countries, American homes are very elongated. They are rectangles with a hallway running down the middle and rooms on either side. By contrast, most homes in other countries are more square, with a common room that occupies the center and private rooms surrounding it with doors leading directly into the common room. Part of the reason for this is that Americans demanded more square-footage, so developers filled all the space they could in whatever shape the lot happened to be, and unfortunately these lots were often elongated rectangles, because that minimized the amount of road that needed to be built. By contrast, developers in other countries had to conform to local standards of what was considered auspicious, which often involved measurements based on the human body (like the tatami mat being about the size of a double bed). Thus the rooms were a lot more appealing to a human eye and human use.

One way to think about this is what happens if you increase the size of your bedroom on one side by just one foot. Does that really change anything? Most likely it will only change the size of the walkway. If the walkway was narrow, it is an improvement, but if it is already wide enough, it does nothing. Maybe it allows you to squeeze in a shelf or expand storage space, but it does not improve the space for you the person. In order to do that, you will need a space big enough to perform one more activity. In Japan, that would be one extra tatami mat.

One other thing about Japanese rooms is that because they use sliding doors, it makes it possible to use decorative panels with simple paintings as the door itself. When closed, the door simply becomes part of the wall. This is advantageous especially in common rooms, where many doors directly enter the common space. If this was just wall of doors it would feel like an apartment block or hospital ward. With the sliding door though, it is possible to make the door invisible.

Now, tatami mats only work in homes where there is no Western furniture, because that would collide with the partitioning strategy of the mats. The Western culture that does the best job of partitioning space belongs to the Swedes. They have a concept call lagom, which means “not to much, not too little, just right.” In interior décor, it is all about making a place cosy. Wall to wall carpets is a no no, instead rugs are used, which partitions the floor into separate areas. Sometimes rugs a layered to subpartition spaces. Another way to partition spaces is by using furniture that is tall enough to partition space, but low enough that you can see over it. I mentioned this technique already when describing the Oodi library in Helsinki (which yes is in neighboring Finland, please don’t kill me, dear Finnish friends).

One finally thing I must mention with both the Japanese and lagom design is the importance of preserving a single style throughout the entire line of sight. If there are two very different colors, textures, or even activities happening in the same field of view, it can make the place feel cluttered. Swedes like accomplishing this by using white throughout the whole house. They then use aluminum or wood to draw the edges, and finally add a bright accent color on a pillow or rug. If the accent color or texture is removed though, Swedish homes look like a sanitized hospital ward, so that step is important. Keep that in mind before running to IKEA, which by the way, I don’t recommend anyways unless you know exactly what you are doing. More stuff is usually not the answer to achieve lagom. Back in Japan, traditional Japanese rooms accomplish this uniformity almost automatically with tatami mats and uniform sliding doors. For decoration, paintings or small ornaments may dot the room, but they all tend to follow a minimalistic design that mimics the nature outside. They use different ones for each season and keep the same design throughout, again maintain uniformity, and allowing the mind’s eye to see the whole area as one continuous space.

That’s all for this episode. I hope you enjoyed this lighter episode, and maybe even took away a few design tips. The topic for next week is children, and how growing up in different cultures can vary so significantly. One of the subtopics that will be discussed is children’s safety. I have gotten messages from many listeners asking about safety while traveling. I can not do a full episode on that topic, so I will use the topic of children’s safety to just briefly touch on that topic as well. So, until next time.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | RSS