Nov. 10-25
A conversation with the Founder and Principal Designer of Open Atelier Mumbai about the intricacies of Indian design, the influence of tradition and materiality, and the sensory experiences that shape his work.
As Indian Design in Focus continues, we speak with Rahul Mistri, Founder and Principal Designer of Open Atelier Mumbai. For him, Indian design is defined by the way it embraces its various intricacies — from designing for multigenerational families to expressing different personalities within a single space. Context, climate, culture, and traditions all deepen that language, while the challenge lies in keeping spaces contemporary yet rooted in something familiar and enduring.
Traditional Indian design is a constant influence in his work, whether through materials like lime finishes or textiles such as handwoven cottons and silks.
He also draws from styles like Japandi and Wabi-Sabi, with a nod to the clean lines, uncluttered environments, and the freedom that comes from embracing imperfections. Across residential, workspace, retail, and hospitality, his approach embraces the pursuit of sensorily rich spaces shaped by how it feels to be there and what emotions the space evokes.
In our conversation, Rahul speaks about clients becoming more open to bold choices, how trust encourages innovation, his advice for young designers, and more.
I think what makes Indian design characteristic is the way it embraces its various intricacies. We design for multigenerational families, for instance, where different generations live together, and that naturally shapes how spaces are planned. Each personality needs to find expression in the space, which makes for a rich and immersive approach.
I think what makes Indian design characteristic is the way it embraces its various intricacies.
Add to that our context, climate, culture, and traditions, and the design language becomes even more nuanced. India is also moving forward in a modern way, so the challenge lies in keeping spaces contemporary while staying rooted in something familiar and enduring. That balance is what defines Indian design.
Traditional Indian design doesn’t just influence my work; it’s something I continually reimagine in today’s context. It could be through materials that have long been part of our culture, such as lime finishes, or textiles that convey a tactile richness, like handwoven cottons or silks.
In other cases, it’s the space itself that influences our design choices. For example, for our project, Vita Moderna’s Experience Centre, we transformed an old mill in Mumbai, known as Raghuvanshi Mills, into a luxury retail space. While we repurposed the intrinsic features of the building itself, we also subtly added elements, materials, and lighting design that not only complemented the original design of the mills but also accentuated it.
Traditional Indian design doesn’t just influence my work; it’s something I continually reimagine in today’s context.
When you bring these elements into a contemporary setting, they add depth and a sense of belonging to a space. For me, it’s about striking that balance so the design feels personal and meaningful rather than purely decorative.
Alongside this, I have also drawn inspiration from styles like Japandi and Wabi-Sabi at times. Japandi’s focus on clean lines and uncluttered environments resonates with my approach, creating spaces that are rhythmic and effortless. Wabi-Sabi, on the other hand, is about embracing imperfections, which I find liberating. Sometimes we achieve that through pairing two seemingly different materials, or allowing natural textures and finishes to speak for themselves.
Both philosophies remind me that design doesn’t need to be over-styled to be impactful or opulent; it’s often the simplicity and honesty of design elements that create a powerful experience in a space.
Whether it’s a residence, a workspace, a retail environment, or a hospitality project, the common thread for me is always the experience of the people using the space.
My approach to any brief begins with the idea that design should be sensorily rich. The scale or function might change, but the intent is the same: how does it feel to be there, and what emotions does it evoke? For example, a residence might call for a more intimate vision, where the materials and details are chosen to reflect the personality of its inhabitants.
A workplace, on the other hand, is about clarity and flow, creating an environment where employees can collaborate without losing focus.
My approach to any brief begins with the idea that design should be sensorily rich. The scale or function might change, but the intent is the same: how does it feel to be there, and what emotions does it evoke?
The contexts always vary, but what ties them together is the belief that every design element, from lighting to furniture, finishes, and spatial layout, should contribute to the larger narrative, creating an experience that is thoughtful for the user.
Yes, but I think it depends on what ‘bold’ means to the client. For some, it may be experimenting with a specific design style, while for others, it might be trying out a new material or finish. For me, the important part is always to bring the client’s personality through in the design.
For instance, in one of our residential projects called Casa Bohemia, the client wanted a strong bohemian identity. The challenge was to celebrate that style without letting it overwhelm the space, to find that balance where the space still felt like theirs.
If clients can see and understand how a material ages beautifully over time, or how technology can make their everyday experience more convenient, they’re much more willing to take a leap.
In another residential project, Kiyoma Crest, the idea of boldness was very different. The clients wanted a quiet sense of luxury expressed through a monochromatic palette. That didn’t mean sticking to one colour, but layering muted tones, from earthy browns to deep greens, and bringing them alive through murals and selected accents.
We paired these with materials like lime plaster, travertine, and metal details in copper PVD. For me, that’s where boldness lies: not in being loud for the sake of it, but in making choices that feel authentic while still pushing the design forward.
When it comes to innovation, I find it’s less about persuading and more about showing. If clients can see and understand how a material ages beautifully over time, or how technology can make their everyday experience more convenient, they’re much more willing to take a leap.
It’s about creating trust, giving them a glimpse of what’s possible, while reassuring them that the design will still feel like their own.
I think it’s important for young designers to first define what ‘design’ means to them. Once you understand this for yourself, authenticity and quality will naturally emerge in your work over time.
For me, the process has always been about learning and unlearning, staying open, questioning myself, and not getting too comfortable with one way of doing things. I think that’s something every designer should hold on to because design, our very environment, is constantly evolving. To evolve with it, it’s essential to keep an open mind.
I also feel that with so much inspiration everywhere today, it’s easy to feel the pressure to follow trends. But real growth comes from creating work that feels true to you and to the people you’re designing for. If you can focus on purpose, clarity, and joy in your spaces, you’ll naturally build a practice that has meaning and longevity.
Honestly, every project we take on is special in its own way. The ones that stay with me are those where design goes beyond form, where it really lives with the people and shapes their everyday experience.
Kiyoma Crest was special because we worked with Japandi and Wabi-Sabi design styles, but we got the opportunity to refine it in a particular context. The vision was to design a warm, uncluttered space for a young family of three, while also embracing minor imperfections. The challenge lay in finding that balance between quiet luxury and daily practicality.
Vita Moderna’s experience centre, on the other hand, was meaningful because we got the chance to work with a historical mill structure in Mumbai. With adaptive reuse at its heart, we reimagined the heritage building as a luxury retail destination. It became an exploration of how thoughtful interventions can create an environment where heritage and modernity converge, sustainability and opulence coexist, and design evolves into a cultural experience.
The residence Elysian Echoes in Kolkata is especially close to me because the principles of music became the thread that ties the design together. Every space was composed almost like a melody. It reminded me that design isn’t just about space, it’s also about emotion and memory.
With Kalpataru Radiance Clubhouse, the scale was different altogether. Here, the design had to bring a community together, creating spaces for leisure, wellness, and social connection, while still feeling elevated.
And Sweven, also in Kolkata, stays with me because it was about designing for multiple generations under one roof. Each space had to reflect individual personalities while still feeling like one home. That project reinforced for me how family life and design can converge in layered and meaningful ways.
Each of these projects not only created new experiences but also helped me hone my voice as a designer. They’ve each left behind a story, and those stories continue to shape the way I see design.
To learn more, visit openateliermumbai.com
All images provided by Open Atelier Mumbai
