by Kate Jonuska
William Smalley explores the quiet spaces of design
MEDITATIVE RATHER THAN OSTENTATIOUS, “Quiet Spaces” by designer William Smalley is an unexpected design book in several ways, including that aside from his own projects, the author features art galleries, artist studios and the private homes of other architects that inspire him. Rather than chapters themed around design concepts like color and scale, this book’s four sections are devoted to space, silence, shadows and life.
The result feels less like a designer portfolio and more like an exploration of Smalley’s aesthetic of calm and private quiet. In this conception, he explains, quiet does not mean a silent space and is instead about peace, balance and presence.
“In silence all is heightened and you appreciate the details of a space; the texture of the walls, the meeting of materials, how light strikes a surface,” writes Smalley, who is naturally drawn toward lime-washed walls over paint and loves the timeless texture of polished plaster. “It is hard not to find beauty in silence. Everything becomes important.”
While certainly minimalist, this introverted approach to design is specifically not modernist, which celebrates clean lines, ample light and using the latest materials.
These newer materials, the author notes, often look best when first installed and show wear as they age.
“Modernism’s concept of universal space, your piece defined with the minimum of means, feels to me cold and impersonal,” writes Smalley, adding, “There are no shadows, and there is nowhere to hide in modernism. And sometimes we all need to hide.”
“Quiet Spaces” travels the globe from Mexico and Sri Lanka to New York City and throughout the author’s native U.K. in search of spaces in which to live consciously, choosing only necessary objects and paying attention to how light interacts with the space over the day and over the decades. In Italy, Smalley features the uneven texture of the bricks in the granary of a 16th-century villa, a homely but wonderful space meant to be private, with as much love as the villa’s impressive loggia (gallery) and barchessa (service building). Even private spaces— shadowed places—deserve care and contemplation.
Humans love light and are social creatures, certainly, but Smalley writes, “We (also) need quiet, and shadows are quiet places. They provide comfort. My spaces are layered, and they make space for our humanity.”
Few design books dare to contemplate the nature of humanity inside the spaces we build, but “Quiet Spaces” not only dares but succeeds, offering a design philosophy with intellectual and artistic heft.
