the stair that just feels right
One day, our client sent us a message about the staircase in her house.
The house had been completed a year before. When we first started designing it, their two older children was already in elementary school. They were entering a new stage of family life and wanted to create a house where they could raise their child as the family grew.
During the design process, they became pregnant and had another baby. By the time the house was completed and they moved in, their little baby had become a toddler who was learning to crawl, walk, and climb.
The house is a two-storey house on a beautiful site, with three open sides facing the park and garden in the neighbourhood. The staircase connects the two floors and sits naturally within the daily movement of the house.
At first, the mother was concerned about it. Her toddler was becoming increasingly active, so she asked us to provide a temporary gate at the staircase to prevent him from going down by himself.
A year later, she sent us a message.
She thanked us for making a very comfortable staircase.
When we first designed it, she thought it was simply a standard staircase. There was nothing particularly unusual about it. But after using other staircases in stores, restaurants, and other buildings, she began to notice the differences.
The height of the steps felt right. The width was comfortable for her feet. Even though she usually walked barefoot at home, the proportions felt natural.
She also told us about her toddler. He had learned to climb the staircase by himself and had gradually learned to go back down. The proportions of the steps allowed him to find his balance and become confident enough to use the staircase independently.
Her message made us think about how easily we overlook ordinary architectural elements.
A staircase is something we encounter almost everywhere. Houses, schools, offices, hotels, restaurants, malls, and public buildings all need stairs. We usually think of them as a basic functional element that connects one level to another.
As architects, we often approach stairs through dimensions and regulations. We calculate the riser, tread, width, slope, handrail, and other technical requirements. Once these things are resolved, the staircase can easily feel like a problem that has already been solved.
But there is another part that cannot be fully described by a drawing.
It is the experience of using it every day.
The history of the staircase began with a simple need to make changes in terrain easier to navigate. Stones were stacked and surfaces were shaped to create steps. Over time, stairs became part of temples, monuments, castles, houses, and public buildings.
They also became symbols of importance and hierarchy. Grand staircases were used to create a sense of arrival, ceremony, and status.
In modern architecture, stairs have largely returned to their practical role. They are expected to be safe, efficient, accessible, and functional.
Yet the basic experience remains very simple. A person places one foot on a step, shifts their weight, and continues to the next.
Small differences in proportion can change that experience significantly.
A step that is slightly too high can feel tiring. A tread that is too narrow can feel uncomfortable. A staircase that is too tight can make passing another person difficult. A well-proportioned staircase, on the other hand, can become almost effortless to use.
This was what our client noticed after living with the house.
She had used many stairs before, but she had never really compared them. Living with this particular staircase made her aware of the differences. She began to recognize what felt comfortable and what did not.
Her toddler experienced the staircase in a different way.
For him, the staircase was part of learning to move independently. He first encountered it as something that required help and supervision. Gradually, he learned how to climb it, how to go down, and how to balance himself on each step.
The temporary gate that once protected him eventually became unnecessary.
The same staircase that initially created concern became part of his growing independence.
This is one of the things we find interesting about designing a family house. A house is not experienced in the same way throughout its life. Its users change, children grow, routines change, and spaces take on new roles.
A staircase designed at one point in time can become part of many different stages of a family's life.
For this family, it became part of their child's transition from crawling to walking, from being assisted to becoming independent.
For the mother, it became something she could compare with the many staircases she encountered outside the house.
The staircase was still a simple architectural element. Nothing about its function had changed.
What changed was the way they experienced it.
This made us think about the value of paying attention to ordinary things in architecture.
Not every successful design decision needs to become a visual statement. Sometimes it is found in a dimension that feels natural, a piece of furniture that sits at the right height, a passage that is comfortable to walk through, or a staircase that simply feels good to use.
These decisions may not always appear in photographs.
They may not become the most recognizable part of a project.
But they become important when people live with them.
For us as architects, the feedback was a reminder that design does not end when the building is completed. The building continues to teach us through the way people use it.
Our client's experience made us want to look more carefully at the ordinary elements of architecture. It reminded us that even something as familiar as a staircase can have a level of thoughtfulness that people may only recognize after living with it.
A stair is a simple connection between two levels.
But when its proportions are right, it can become effortless, comfortable, and intuitive.
It can support a mother carrying her child.
It can give a toddler confidence to climb independently.
It can become part of the everyday rhythm of a home.
And perhaps that is enough.
The staircase does not need to be spectacular.
It does not need to be the centre of attention.
It just needs to feel right.