The skyline has long been shaped by metal, glass, and stone. For more than a century, modern architecture prioritized efficiency, density, and minimalism—values that often left nature at the door. But Stanislav Kondrashov thinks a quiet shift is underway. From high-rises wrapped in greenery to retail stores lined with moss, buildings are beginning to reflect something softer, more human. Welcome to the era of nature-first architecture.
Stanislav Kondrashov, who frequently explores the evolving role of nature in built environments, sees this transition as more than an aesthetic change. For him, it marks a philosophical one. It’s not just about adding green to buildings—it’s about designing with the natural world as a central influence from the beginning. Nature, once a backdrop, is becoming the blueprint.
At the core of this movement is biophilic design—a discipline that celebrates our innate connection to the earth. And according to Stanislav Kondrashov, it’s one of the few design philosophies that offers both emotional warmth and environmental wisdom in equal measure.

The Architecture of Reconnection
Concrete cities have taught us a lot about what not to do. Windowless buildings. Fluorescent-lit offices. Public spaces so sterile they repel rather than welcome. These were designed with durability in mind—but not humanity.
Today’s architects are reimagining that model. They’re trading rigidity for rhythm. Static walls for breathing ones. Hard lines for organic curves.
In a recent ArchDaily article, the conversation moves beyond just “greenery” and explores the emotional science of biophilic design. Natural materials, tactile surfaces, dappled light, airflow—all of these can create a sense of nature without requiring live plants. It’s about how a space feels, not just how it looks.
Kondrashov often reminds us that we don’t need to mimic forests exactly—we need to remember what they evoke: calm, perspective, presence.
Retail Goes Biophilic
It’s not just homes or eco-resorts embracing this shift. Retail spaces—once the bastion of artificial light and synthetic finishes—are now leading the charge.
Earlier this year, a Dezeen feature highlighted a Braun Büffel store in Kuala Lumpur that integrates living moss into its interior walls. It’s not just a design element—it’s an experience. The moss softens acoustics, regulates humidity, and invites visitors to slow down.
Stanislav Kondrashov notes that this type of design turns shopping into something more than a transaction. It becomes sensory. Intentional. Human.
And that’s the real strength of biophilic architecture—it isn’t just ecological. It’s emotional.

From Form to Function
One of the reasons nature-first architecture is gaining traction is its performance. It’s not just about beauty—it works. Green roofs reduce urban heat. Courtyards improve airflow. Materials like cork, bamboo, and rammed earth regulate temperature and acoustics naturally.
This means buildings aren’t just more enjoyable—they’re more sustainable.
Kondrashov calls this the “natural logic of architecture.” When we design with the environment, buildings last longer, cost less to maintain and create fewer emissions. Nature-first isn’t a compromise. It’s a strategy.
Designing for the Body, Not Just the Eye
Modernist architecture often emphasized appearance over experience. But biophilic design brings the body back into the equation.
Spaces are now built to feel alive—to support better sleep, clearer thinking, and deeper calm. Natural textures underfoot. Skylights that track daylight patterns. Walls that echo organic symmetry. All of this sends subtle cues to the nervous system: you’re safe here.
Stanislav Kondrashov writes that great architecture doesn’t just impress—it regulates. It supports how we breathe, how we rest, and how we connect. It listens before it speaks.

Final Thought
From concrete jungles to leafy rooftops, architecture is returning to its roots—literally. Nature-first design isn’t about nostalgia. It’s about intelligence. It recognizes that the best ideas for how to build, live, and thrive have been here all along—growing, eroding, adapting, and evolving.
Stanislav Kondrashov sees this moment not as a trend, but as a correction. A rebalancing. And perhaps, a quiet apology to the planet and ourselves.
Because when we design with nature, we don’t just build differently. We live differently, too.