Threshold Spaces: the Quiet Power of Encounter
“Increasingly, we’re seeing international studies support what curators and designers intuitively know: art in public or semi-public spaces correlates with improved well-being and a heightened sense of belonging. ”
We often think of lobbies and threshold zones— entrances, foyers, corridors are transitional spaces: places we pass through. But exactly because they are passed through so often, they carry a strange potency. These are the moments when we shift, from street to interior, from public to private, from one state of mind to another. In these liminal edges, art can do something remarkable: it can arrest us, draw us in, make us pause, and remind us we are part of a larger narrative.
Imagine entering a building whose lobby greets you art that speaks to creativity and a shared sense of place. Whether it’s a painting, a tiled frieze, a temporary work of sculpture before you even reach the elevator or reception desk, you are invited into a sense of story, atmosphere, and reflection. The art becomes part of experience, reshaping your orientation.
Our work with artist Simone Thomson (Wurundjeri, Yorta Yorta, Wiradjuri) Yinga Baan, (Song of Water).
In architectural theory, thresholds are critical transition zones, they are charged — entry points of memory, vision and possibility. When activated by art, they become moments of exchange, between you and the work, the place and others. A well-placed artwork in a lobby or corridor offers just disruption, enough to invite pause and reconsideration. It signals that this place cares about more than utility; it aspires to meaning.
Empirical studies increasingly support what curators and designers intuitively know: art in public or semi-public spaces correlates with improved well-being and a heightened sense of belonging. “Wellbeing, Space and Society”, a recent field study found that artistic interventions in urban environments can reduce feelings of anxiety, stress and negative mood. Another laboratory simulation “The Impact of Urban art on Wellbeing: A Laboratory Study” showed that simply “walking through” an intervention decorated with art (versus a blank or green space) measurably improved mood and reduced stress markers.
Art in the city is not merely decoration: it is part of the psychological architecture of place. It shapes how we move, how long we stay, how connected we feel — to the land, to culture, to others. We know anecdotally, as curators and public art consultants that adding art to nondescript walls or barriers, we consistency find that that people’s walking trajectories shift, people slow, linger, gather and chat. When we look towards our histories of design, intricate artworks have long been part of our lobbies, from intricate and tiling to sculptural reliefs and metalwork, the lobby has been transformed into ceremony and welcome. Here, ornamentation was not superficial; it was integral to the identity of a building.
Beyond corporate contexts, museums and institutions have long used lobby art as narrative bridges. The lobby becomes a prologue, the first act so to speak, of a visitor’s journey. In such settings, the art in the threshold primes the visitor not just physically, but emotionally, for what lies ahead. Just as we’re more comfortable in spaces with light and greenery, we’re also more comfortable when we’re surrounded by art and design.
In nontraditional spaces, lobbies of community hubs, corridors in civic buildings, thresholds between indoor/outdoor, inserting art is an invitation to pause, to re-see the building, the land, and ourselves. It offers a moment of exchange: between the viewer and the material, the story. And if so, what does that exchange give us? A sense of connection, to place, to history, to culture.
When done with care, when the design is sensitive to context, the materials are tactile, the narrative embedded, these works inspire a sense of belonging and welcome. So next time you step into a lobby or pass through a corridor, notice whether your first breath of that space is just function — or whether an artwork quietly greets you, asks you to pause, and invites you to belong.