The Subtle Power of Texture (And a Few of Our Creative Director’s Current Favorites)

Texture is often the most powerful element in a room — and the least overt. Here, our fearless leader waxes eloquent on how texture shapes emotional experience across residential, hospitality, retail, and wellness spaces.

Textures don’t have to be loud to be impactful, as seen in this Kenwood primary bathroom.

You often say texture is something you “feel” more than see. What do you mean by that?

SARAH: Texture is the layer that makes a space human. You may not consciously name it, but you feel it immediately.

Of course, some textures are obvious — a crushed velvet lounge chair or a hand-knotted rug. But texture also works visually. A honed Calacatta Viola marble with dramatic veining reads warm and dimensional, even though it’s cool to the touch. A hand-raked plaster wall in a muted earth tone can soften an otherwise architectural space. 

Even hard materials carry emotion when they have depth. Light grazing across fluted oak millwork or a ribbed limestone backsplash creates shadow and rhythm. That movement is what keeps a room from feeling flat.

Texture isn’t just crucial in one area of design — it sets the tone in projects across the many verticals of the industry.

Kuchar works across multiple verticals. Does texture show up differently in residential versus commercial work?

SARAH: The emotional goal shifts, but our philosophy doesn’t.

For a private Kenwood residence on Chicago’s South Side, we recently installed a horizontally stacked, linear ceramic tile in a primary bath, finished in a matte oat glaze. When lit from above, it creates this meditative rhythm. It feels calm, almost spa-like.

In a hospitality setting, the application can be more expressive — or layered with varying levels of impact. For the design of Gallery Cafe, a coffee shop in the West Loop, the goal was to let the art take center stage. In the gallery area, we chose a clean white backdrop accented only by plants, allowing the rotating monthly installations to introduce color and energy into the space. In contrast, the coffee shop features warm paint tones and textured tile, creating an inviting interior that welcomes guests in from the street.

Retail and showroom environments require even more restraint. Here, texture should elevate, not compete. For example, if we’re showcasing a highly textural product — say, a boucle sectional or sculptural kitchen and bath fixtures — the surrounding materials have to support it. Maybe that means limewash walls in a soft greige, understated wide-plank white oak flooring, and display surfaces that hold interest without stealing the show. In a nutshell: Not every element can (or should be) the star.

Texture is a large part of what transformed this financial office from utilitarian to statement-making.

How do you approach layering without overwhelming a space?

SARAH: Hierarchy. Some textures whisper; others speak up.

We often begin with a single anchor piece — a rug, a slab, a textile — and build outward. In a recent financial office in Amsterdam, our North Star was the city itself: its textures, tones, and artistic legacy. We translated the iconic Girl with a Pearl Earring (Vermeer, 1665) into custom conference room lighting and drew from Self-Portrait (Van Gogh, 1887) for the café’s palette. Walking the city, we studied tiled doorways, brick canal bridges, and the gabled silhouettes of canal houses, abstracting those rhythms into wall textures, restroom tilework, and the broader architectural language. Soft wood tones throughout ground the space, creating warmth and cohesion.

In 2026, we’re seeing designers lean into contrast: horsehair wallcoverings against polished nickel, fluted travertine paired with high-gloss lacquer, raw silk drapery next to patinated bronze. The key is editing. If everything is textured, nothing stands out. We edit constantly, and then we edit again.

In this spa treatment room, Venetian plaster paved the way for grounded relaxation.

There’s a cultural return to authenticity right now. How does that influence your material choices?

SARAH: There’s a strong desire for materials that feel honest, not overly processed or synthetic. That’s part of why plaster, unlacquered metals, and natural stone are resonating so deeply.

The 2026 theme at Maison & Objet, “Past Reveals Future,” captures this perfectly. We’re revisiting heritage materials, but applying them in contemporary ways.

We’ve incorporated hand-troweled Venetian plaster in projects like Tricoci Salon & Spa and Haddon Hub [a hub for local businesses in Humboldt Park, Chicago] — not as a trend, but as a craft moment. The beauty is in the variation. You see the artisan’s hand.

Unlacquered brass is another favorite. We’ll use it on cabinet hardware or plumbing fixtures and allow it to patina naturally. It evolves with the space. That aging process tells a story. Luxury today isn’t about perfection. It’s about character.

The unique character of this custom-pressed metal panel added a water-like texture to this bar.

Where are you seeing unexpected texture emerge?

SARAH: Metal is having a moment — but not the sleek, flat metals of the past decade.

For a bar installation for the Scandinavian Spaces showroom at The Mart, we used a custom-pressed metal panel with a soft, undulating surface. It looks like wind moving across water. The material is inherently hard, but visually fluid. That tension is compelling.

We’re also seeing ceilings become more expressive. For a sushi bar in Chicago, we clad the ceiling in narrow wood slats stained a deep walnut. It completely transformed the intimacy of the room. When you engage the ceiling, the space becomes immersive.

And I love subtle tactile surprises: leather-upholstered cabinet fronts, a velvet-wrapped mirror frame, even grasscloth inside millwork niches. These moments aren’t always expected, which makes them memorable.

Sometimes, a building’s existing materials provide the most authentic texture imaginable.

How does sustainability intersect with texture?

SARAH: Often, the most sustainable move is preservation.

For Haddon Hub, an adaptive reuse project, we kept the original concrete and brick surfaces exposed rather than covering them. For The Link PHX, a ground-up luxury apartment high-rise located in downtown Phoenix, the existing concrete walls in a party room had such strong texture and presence that removing them would have stripped the space of its identity.

Concrete, especially when lightly honed and sealed, carries history. Brick with irregular mortar lines tells you something about where you are. That authenticity can’t be replicated with new materials. The texture becomes part of the sustainability story because you’re honoring what already exists.

If texture were a personality in the room, who would it be?

SARAH: Effortlessly cool. Quietly confident.

Texture isn’t usually the loudest voice in the space. It doesn’t need to be. But it’s the reason you want to stay a little longer. It’s the softness of a mohair chair against a plaster wall. The shadow line in fluted millwork. The way light hits a chiseled marble edge at golden hour.

You may not walk into a room and say, “The texture is incredible.” But you’ll feel that it’s layered. Considered. Alive. And that’s the goal.