Too often, art is treated as the final flourish in interior design, chosen to match the sofa or fill a blank wall. But what if that’s the exact moment we get it wrong? In this thought-provoking piece, abstract artist Viki Thorbjorn challenges designers to rethink the role of art – not as decoration but as a powerful design tool that breathes emotion into space.
Interior designers are masters of atmosphere. You shape feeling from form and mood from materials. From the moment someone steps into a space, you’ve already decided how they’ll move, what they’ll notice, and what they’ll feel. Nothing is accidental. Every decision—from architectural rhythm to the tone of the flooring—carries intention.
And yet, in so many projects, one design element gets chosen last. Rushed. Matched to the palette and treated like a finishing touch instead of a foundational layer.
The art.
But here’s the truth: the last thing you want to put on your wall is something that simply “goes.” Art that just fills a space. Art that says nothing.
In considered interiors—where the structure, furniture, and flow all speak the same language—art has the potential to be the element that changes how a room feels on a visceral level. It should never be an afterthought. It should be part of the architecture of the space itself.
When art is approached with the same depth as the rest of the design process, it does something powerful. It creates an energy shift. It doesn’t just reflect what’s around it—it deepens it. It introduces stillness. Friction. Mystery. Presence.
As an artist, I work with interior designers and design-led brands who want more than a decorative solution. My practice focuses on emotional resonance. Every piece I create is made to hold space. To speak softly or powerfully—but never generically. Because I don’t believe art should complete a room. I believe it should complicate it—in the best possible way.
The most impactful rooms often hold a sense of contrast. That tension between structure and softness. Between formality and emotion. Art, when chosen intentionally, becomes the threshold between those states. It grounds a space, but it also ungrounds the people in it. It slows them down. It opens them up.
This is why, in my collaborations with designers, we approach the art with the same reverence as the flooring material or the spatial flow. Whether we’re working with a bespoke commission or curating from my studio’s existing work, the aim is always the same: to let the artwork function as a layer of feeling in the design narrative.
It might whisper. It might provoke. But it will do something.
Too often, art is chosen late in the project timeline—after the larger architectural decisions have been made and the colour schemes have been locked in. And by then, the art becomes about matching. Filling. Completing.
But “completing” is not the same as elevating.
When you reduce art to an accent colour or scale filler, you strip it of its power. You make it ornamental instead of intentional. And while that might be enough in trend-led spaces, it’s not enough for the kind of spaces that stay with people long after they leave.
My invitation to designers is this: let art in sooner. Don’t wait until everything else is in place. Think of art not as a postscript but as a provocation. Let it inform the room’s tone as much as the material palette. Let it open emotional doors that the structure alone cannot.
Because when you get the art right, the room breathes differently. It expands. It sharpens. It softens. It feels.
And isn’t that what your clients come to you for? Not just something beautiful—but something meaningful. Something they feel connected to. Something that reflects who they are, not just what they like.
Whether you’re designing a residential retreat, a brand’s flagship space, or a private office that carries its owner’s legacy, art can be the most personal and influential element in the room. But only if it’s given the weight it deserves.
So before you hang that final piece, ask yourself:
Does it elevate the room or just match it?
Does it provoke thought or fade into the background?
Does it speak for the space or simply decorate it?
Because “nice” isn’t the goal. “Nice” is forgettable.
Emotion endures.
And the most unforgettable interiors are the ones that don’t just impress—they imprint.
If your walls could talk, would they whisper… or would they breathe?
www.vikithorbjorn.art | IG: @vikithorbjornart
