Poetik des Raumes – Light, Objects, and Memory

The Subtle Language of Interiors

Some books change the way you see the world. Poetik des Raumes by Gaston Bachelard is one of those for me. It’s not a book about architecture in a technical sense, nor is it about interior design in the way we typically think of it. Instead, it’s a book about how we experience space—how our homes, our rooms, and even the smallest corners in them hold emotions, memories, and meaning.

In Poetik des Raumes Bachelard explores the way spaces shape us, not just physically, but emotionally. He speaks about the poetic nature of a well-loved armchair, the way a small attic room can hold entire worlds, the deep sense of security found in a childhood home. Reading it, I was reminded that a home is never just a collection of furniture, nor is it only about aesthetics. It is about presence, about emotion, about how a space allows us to be.

I have always been drawn to this idea—that interiors are not just designed but felt. That the way light falls in a room, the way objects interact with their surroundings, and even the textures we choose all influence our state of mind.

This is something I think about constantly at MAMO INTERIORS, where I curate spaces with the same intention that an artist composes a painting. I want a room to feel like it belongs to the person inhabiting it, to carry a quiet presence rather than being just a staged setting.

Design That Breathes

A space should breathe. It should expand and contract with the rhythm of daily life. Too often, design becomes rigid—rooms are arranged in a way that looks good in a photograph but doesn’t live well. The best interiors are fluid, responsive, changing with time and use.

The Plia Chair by Castelli, which sits in my space, is a perfect embodiment of this philosophy. Designed in the 1960s, it is a study in lightness and flexibility. Its transparent frame allows it to blend into its environment, almost disappearing at times, and yet it has an undeniable presence. It is there, but it does not impose.

PLIA CHAIR BY ANONIMA CASTELLI

This is something I admire in design—the ability for a piece to exist in harmony with its surroundings rather than demanding attention. Too often, we are told that interiors should impress, that they should be filled with statement pieces and bold gestures. But I believe that the most powerful spaces are often the quietest. They don’t shout. They don’t overwhelm. Instead, they unfold, revealing themselves slowly over time.

This is why I always return to natural materials, soft neutral tones, and furniture that allows space to exist around it. There is beauty in restraint, in choosing objects that enhance rather than dominate a room.

The Poetry of Interiors in Everyday Life

I often think about the small, intimate moments that make a space feel like home. The way the light changes throughout the day, creating shifting patterns on the walls. The comfort of a chair that has molded itself to your body over time. The weight of a book resting on a glass tabletop, waiting to be picked up again. These details may seem insignificant, but they are the very things that define the atmosphere of a space.

Bachelard speaks about how a home is not just a structure—it is a collection of experiences, a container for dreams. A well-designed space should never feel like a showroom; it should feel like a place where life happens.

This is why I resist fleeting trends. Trends tell us what is "in," but they rarely tell us what feels good. A space should not be dictated by what is currently popular but by what resonates.

When I design, whether it is for a client or for my own home, I ask myself:

• Does this space allow for stillness? Can you sit here and breathe?

• Is there a balance between structure and softness? Does the room feel harmonious?

• How does light interact with the space? Does it shift beautifully throughout the day?

• Do the objects here feel intentional? Are they meaningful rather than just decorative?

• And most importantly: Does it feel like home?

The Role of Memory in Design

One of the most beautiful ideas in Poetik des Raumes is that spaces hold memories. The creaking of an old wooden floor, the way a childhood home still smells familiar decades later, the comfort of a room that has seen years of life unfold.

I think about this often when curating interiors. The best rooms are not just designed—they tell a story. An antique table that has seen generations gather around it. A handwoven rug that has been passed down. A ceramic cup with imperfections that make it feel deeply human. These objects carry presence. They connect us to something larger than ourselves.

This is why I love working with collectible design, pre-loved pieces, and objects that are made to last. There is something incredibly special about surrounding yourself with pieces that have meaning—whether they are vintage finds or contemporary works by artisans who pour their soul into their craft.

A home should never feel static. It should evolve, accumulate layers, and grow with time.

MAMO INTERIORS: A Space That Reflects This Philosophy

At MAMO INTERIORS, this is what I strive for. Whether through interior design projects, curated objects in the shop, or exhibitions in the gallery space, my goal is always to create environments that are more than just beautiful—they should feel like something.

I want people to walk into a space and sense its quiet power. To notice the way textures interact, the way certain pieces create a rhythm, the way a well-placed chair invites you to sit and stay a while.

And more than anything, I want people to understand that design is not just about how something looks—it’s about how it makes you feel.

So I ask you: What does your home say about you? What objects in your space hold the deepest meaning for you?

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Drop a comment below or send me a message—I always love connecting over design that is thoughtful, personal, and deeply human.

Maresa