Have you ever been trapped in a story? Equipped with logic, curiosity and playfulness, each creature in the respective room can creatively unfold together on an adventurous journey of escape. The special part about the so-called Escape Rooms (EXIT) is that the players are locked in a room for a certain period of time and have to independently explore the rooms and work out solutions to be able to leave them again later.
Behind each object, a crucial clue could open the way to the next room – a shifted perspective.
A shifted perspective – a new door – all in all: a partially mobile interior architecture. With great attention to detail, an ambience is created that transports all players into a story that can only be understood interactively through the cooperation of all and can therefore be told together. Every arrangement in the room ensures or blocks the possibility of progressing to the next room. Do the players allow themselves to (still) uncertain playing spaces with conscientiousness – feel them out and think them through, then they experience a very conscious steering. The moment when they realize that the experience of the path lies in their own hands…
My assumption that this type of spatial encounter is linked to very specific forms of interior architecture and stimuli will be examined in the further observations.
If we look at the appeal of the unknown, it quickly becomes clear why EXIT spaces make so many happy: We are faced with something completely diffuse without certainty of knowledge and can practise awakening in this blind state in a new way. Recognizing ourselves as an active co-creator of the space, even when simply rearranging objects, can be liberating and fulfilling. The aesthetics of the unknown lie in this freely designable space and the actual discovery of the new, the teasing balancing act between loss of control – due to the unfamiliarity of the situation – and the possibility of control due to one’s own choice.
On the other hand, experiencing the stimulus of „being included“ can both motivate and invite you to go on your own creative mental journey, enriching you, but also stressing you.
In this resulting „living“ space, the surprise factor is sometimes so great that the mastered interior design with the supportive acoustics of the rooms, can leave people amazed and they discover how versatile some objects actually are.
By perceiving the dynamic interior architecture, the whole room becomes much more organic and flexible than it would be from a structural-spatial point of view. Especially here, the experience of teamwork and interaction is particularly great. Only together it´s possible to recognize the riddles and the use of some items. Anyone who has already tried something „unsuccessfully“ will soon be joined by someone else with another idea and can benefit at a later point in time from the previous experience and the knowledge gained from it. The spatial experience is therefore „moved“ in exactly the same way as the respective players. This makes it possible to leave everyday life to enter into a completely new situation that requires full attention and concentration – active relaxation with a touch of adrenaline.

Fascinated by the idea and aesthetics of the unknown and its power, I wanted to find out more about the so-called Escape Rooms and was delighted that the founder of EXIT in Berlin-Mitte (Friedrichstraße 101) Max Mühlbach agreed to answer a few questions about the creation and special features of these rooms.
A big thank you at this point for his openness!

Jonna Louise Besuglow:
„How long does it take – from the planning drafts to the structural implementation – until an
EXIT Escape Room is completed and ready for use?“
Max Mühlbach:
„That varies greatly. There are game designers/room designers who build turn-key games in 2-3 weeks and others plan and build games in 2 years. Our approach lies in the middle ground:
Game design and story are created in about 4-6 weeks, every now and then we use a kind of board game, on which we test the process. The pre-construction takes 2-4 months and the installation is then quite quick. Depending on how well it was planned, you have to go through another phase of 4-6 weeks for testing and optimization, sometimes even during live operation.“

Jonna Louise Besuglow:
„How important is the daily use of the rooms?“
Max Mühlbach:
„It’s negligible. The room is like a computer that has to be switched on before use and
shut down afterwards. Every now and then it needs an update, otherwise it runs if nobody breaks anything.“

Jonna Louise Besuglow:
„What characterizes the interior design of the individual EXIT rooms?“
Max Mühlbach:
„They are all multi-room games, so no world is smaller than 3 rooms and we strive for a very immersive setting.“

Jonna Louise Besuglow:
„What’s so special about the magnetic mechanism that closes and opens doors and drawers?“
Max Mühlbach:
„It’s relatively little magic. The e-magnets are supplied with electricity and therefore hold together; as soon as the power is switched off, the door or drawer can be opened. Sometimes we reinforce the effect with springs or sound.“

Jonna Louise Besuglow:
„How do you experience the changing behavior of the players based on the space?“
Max Mühlbach:
„It’s huge fun. At the beginning, nobody knows what to do with themselves, there are no
rules, so you usually need some time to get into the room. Over time you get into a flow, but every group here is individual. Observing that and guiding the players on the right path is a great task.“

The interview with Max Mühlbach makes it clear that the effectiveness of the EXIT Rooms is primarily due to the interior design, in this case the detailed multi-room design and the selected sound and lighting effects.
As an observer I have long noticed, even outside of EXIT play spaces, that the behavior of those present in the room changes depending on the room. This often underestimated spatial effect led me in June 2024 to interview around 50 participants in the EXIT Escape Room at the Admiralspalast in Berlin after they had played in different rooms. Nevertheless, my assumption was that the players (despite the diversity of the rooms) will experience recurring behaviors and certain feelings when playing due to this specific situation.
To clarify the question about the effect of the space, I asked them the following question:
What feelings did you experienced when you entered the rooms, especially considering that it is up to your understanding of the riddle and your ability to solve those riddles whether you move forward or get „stuck“. The main thing reported was an „inspiring“ ambition, closely followed by curiosity about „what might happen next“. For most, the spatial effect was primarily characterized by something described and characterized by „imaginative interior design key elements“, which encouraged the desire to explore and discover. What else could be hidden behind this object? Here, a slide rule can transform into a casket and a small bottle into a key and no wall has to remain immobile.
Everyone was looking forward to experiencing and „immersing themselves in a small new world“. Most experienced great joy and motivation in the adrenaline of being „locked in“ and a huge motivation to master the necessary challenges. Every successful solved task gained loud approval and enthusiasm of the group as creative experimentation and logical thinking was mentally celebrated. A certainty was achieved that gave more and more certainty as knowledge increased. Each room tells its very own story thanks to the deliberate theme design.
In all rooms, the players became more mindful of their surroundings. The room was viewed differently than is usually the case. The opportunity for discovery led to a more thorough observation, familiarization and reflection. The meaningfulness of the individual objects and the choice of colors together with the furnishings thus provided the incentive for future next steps and trains of thought. All participants were visibly enthusiastic and felt good because they were able to recognize the puzzle strands and solved them correctly.
For this case the „game world“ was thus understood as intended by the riddle. Of course, some also felt almost „frozen“ and trapped when something didn’t work right away. The more people took part together, the more difficult the experience was perceived to be. The exciting thing was that many did not have the impression of a „game“, as the interior architects, designers and the like had presented and thought through everything so realistically.
This „extraordinary way of interacting with the space“ gave the players an authentic playing space, where the players themselves freely determine the order and exploration.
Those who signed up for a prison wing got one. Those who wanted to enter a strange magical world or wanted to experience the golden 20s, embarked on this journey. The adrenaline and the thrill of the unknown were correspondingly high. Even those who had difficulties and some frustration in solving the puzzle strands were at least positively impressed by the design and vivid spatial perception.
Above all positively, the rooms stood out when there was a kind of window somewhere.
The question was also whether a recurring principle of arrangement or a special form in those
Rooms stood out. Here, it was primarily the thematically appropriate design and the
sound, but architectural features or similarities were not even recognized at all. The unexpected, mobile architecture created a great surprise factor by opening objects or passages. This was so great that none of the players expected another room or „passage“ in certain places, especially not with such a different „look“.
Surprise: When the shape can be formed and a change of perspective is the result.
From my own gaming experience and observation, I can confirm that rooms like these appeal to every adventurous explorer. A successful room design thrives on deliberate uncertainty and the surprise factor when discovering and the resulting maximum gaming fun. The lively spatial effect and dynamic design is what makes the whole thing a special experience in which you can also train and recognize your own conscious use of space. It is a wonderful exercise to experience the notorious „oh – how could I have missed THAT!“, but also to overcome it by later entering other spaces more mindfully with a noticeable increase in attention.

Anyone looking for a lively spatial experience and creative encounters will find what they are looking for here.
The rooms, some of which are angled, have their own formal charm, but its effectiveness is only through their creative, thoughtful and colorful design.
A big thank you goes to all the players who happily agreed to share their feelings and thoughts with me after the games.

During the three days of this seminar, kindly hosted in the Great Hall of the University Campus, work was done with the aim of highlighting some fundamental aspects of human perception of space. In the first session, on Friday afternoon, Luigi Fiumara, Martin Riker and Willem-Jan Beeren opened the proceedings by laying the groundwork for the exercises planned for the following days in some religious buildings with very different characteristics.

Friday 8 March

The meeting takes place at the first and oldest site of the Alanus University: a few wooden buildings lined up on the top of the Alfter hill, surrounded by large meadows where the sun shines beautifully in the cold March air. There is also a large brown earthen fence with two horses resting in the sun. There are about 30 of us in the room, at least half of them students from the university, the others from all over: Germany, Holland, Austria, even the United States. Then there are us Italians, from the Living Organic Architecture group, three of whom were present. In this first afternoon session, the speakers will present their introductory topics one by one; the first is Luigi Fiumara. Luigi introduced the theme of architecture as an extension of physical forces operating at an unconscious level, which we can partly perceive by observing what happens in our bodies when we are in a certain space, exposed to certain shapes. To demonstrate this, he had set up an experiment using large cardboard panels placed side by side to simulate enclosed spaces of different shapes, in which people took turns expressing their impressions and describing how these were transformed by changing position. The idea was to show how each of the different external shapes worked inwards, starting with a narrow triangular space, then a hexagon, and finally a pentagon. The most surprising thing about this experiment, which was later confirmed by the same one carried out the following day in much larger spaces, was to compare thedifferent impressions spontaneously expressed by those present and to see how much they were shared by the majority of participants. Inside the triangular enclosure, for example, the strong ‚acute‘ character of the space produced a physically felt ’sense of ‚closure‘ in the chest area, like a kind of breathing contraction, a general stiffening of the disposition, which became more acute the more one stood in front of one of the sides; the effect of oppression increased along with the rigidity of breathing.

In the rapid transition from the triangle to the hexagon, the inner feeling changed, this time releasing (again in the chest) a shared sense of ‚openness‘ which seemed to allow deeper, ’softer‘ and more relaxed breathing. Despite the presence of the clearly visible corners, the more perceptible ‚circularity‘ of the hexagon leads one to feel a greater ‚centredness‘ within oneself, rather than an expansion free of limits and obstacles. A further change in spatial perception resulted from the transformation of the shape into a pentagon. Again, the angles were sharpened, but instead of producing the vaguely claustrophobic sensation experienced in the triangular space, the dominant sensation shifted from the chest to the head, as if the sudden directionality of this new shape, accompanied by its expansion (and this was particularly felt when one positioned oneself on the side opposite the corner), acted at the level of concentration, of thought, with less focus on the body and more on reasoning. These observations on the pentagonal shape have led to further considerations that undoubtedly need to be explored. I would like to add that the consideration of these aspects cannot be separated from the attention to the quality of designed spaces; from the consideration of what we actually experience of a building when we stand inside it, without consciously grasping it while engaged in something else. Of course, these values cannot be mathematised, but nevertheless we cannot but consider them essential in preparing certain spaces for certain functions. On the basis of these observations, we can say that design is „perceiving with intuition“ and therefore being able to foresee the kind of effect the space can have on the people who will use it.

In the second lecture, Martin Riker took up the subject of the 12 senses described by Steiner and how they can be attributed to precise aspects of spatial perception. He used various examples to show how the mind is naturally inclined to give meaning to what it perceives, even to the point of filling in the missing pieces in the case of fragmented impressions. In order to practise perception properly, it is necessary to try to counteract this tendency by avoiding any association or even unconscious attempt to attach an arbitrary meaning to the object, derived from our personal experience. Through the description of the diagram presented (below), for example, he emphasised the difference between what we perceive inside us and what we perceive outside us, and how these two distinct resonances are intertwined, also describing the kind of forms that are perceived in their entirety only through the passage of time, as in the case of music, to then go on to emphasise the (designable) relationship between a space and what happens inside it, making it a whole capable of supporting the type of activity through the rendering of specific, appropriate sensations.

The last lecture of the day was given by Willem-Jan Beeren on the no less important topic of sound propagation in space and how much the perception of a place, a situation, a narrative, is also influenced by this aspect. Background voices, street noises, sounds, melodies… how the ear in its structural complexity is able to attribute spatial dimensions and characters from sound impressions, just as the eye is able to do through shapes, colours, movement, etc. To better render the concepts expressed, Willelm-Jan has quoted excerpts from texts by Juhani Pallasmaa, which I have transcribed, in order to better convey the concepts expressed:

“… sight isolate, whereas sound incorporates; vision is directional, whereas sound is omni-directional. The sense of sight implies exteriority, but sound creates an experience of interiority. I regard an object, but sound approaches me; the eye reaches, but the ear receives. Buildings do not react to our gaze, but they do return our sounds back to our ears. (…)”

“Hearing structures and articulates the experience and understanding of space. We are not normally aware of the significance of hearing in spatial experience, although sound often provides the temporal continuum in which visual impressions are embedded. When the soundtrack is removed from a film, for instance, the scene loses its plasticity and sense of continuity and life. (…)“

“Sight is the sense of the solitary observer, whereas hearing creates a sense of connection and solidariety; our look wanders lonesomely in the dark depths of a cathedral, but the sound of the organ makes us immediately experience our affinity with the space. (…) the sound measures space and makes its scale comprehensible.”

(Juhani Pallasmaa – The Eyes of the Skin, pag. 49)

The way all the sounds in a place interact with each other determines the (sound) quality of that place. Every space is an acoustic space. In addition, Willem-Jan has highlighted some particularly interesting sites on these aspects; intended as design support tools for architects, designers, etc.:

https://www.wfae.net/

https://urbanidentity.info/

As well as examples of artists who have worked with sound: Bernhard Leitner: Space experience with sounds; Max Neuhaus: Times Square.

Saturday 9 March

Perception exercises in the Cologne Cathedral and in the Hohe Domkirche St. Peter und Maria

The visits were organised according to the premises indicated yesterday. Divided into groups, we experienced space from the three points of view described yesterday afternoon. In the first exercise, we turned our attention to the pure perception of forms and space, without intellectual filters and mediations, focusing on the bodily effects of the observed elements. We began by doing the exercise in relation to the arch that separates the transept from the nave. The apex of the pointed arch was recognised as causing a sense of punctual concentration in the forehead or chest area, depending on the person, while the pillars were associated with a sense of vertical flow from top to bottom in the arms or torso to the legs. This flow also induces a more upright posture. The effects described led to an understanding of the general effect of Gothic in the area of strengthening individual consciousness as a precursor to the Renaissance. Attention was then turned back to the opposite side of the nave, namely the full-height arch with the wide dark and sombre cornice at the exit. In the case of this second arch, the effect of concentration was less pronounced due to the width of the moulding band, which curves seamlessly from the piers to form the ashlars of the arch and therefore does not produce a punctual arch key. On the other hand, the width of the piers and the relative narrowness of the passage between them accentuate the sense of the vertical flow in the torso, which here appears wider and more invasive, creating a sense of greater solidity or seriousness and connection to the earth, and at the same time a certain oppression. It is no coincidence that these effects are linked to the movement towards the exit, towards the city, towards the return to everyday life. And all of this is diametrically opposed to the sensation felt on entering, when the luminous grandeur of the apse and the extraordinarily high naves, flooded with natural light filtered through the large windows, produced a clear physical sensation of loss of weight at the level of the head, of height, of evanescence, as if a sucking force were acting, tending to project forward, in the body and in the will.

Bringing attention to the sphere of sound, the nature of the exercise was to try to make hearing predominant, in order to pick up the differences between one space and another through the perception of sound alone. In the underground crypt, for example, a kind of square box with a low ceiling, the background sounds generated by the footsteps and voices of the many visitors bounced clearly off the stone perimeter walls, giving a precise volumetric impression of the room. It was as if, with the eyes closed, sound became volume. The sense of the experiment became even clearer when moving from the centre of the hall to one of the side walls, the sound also moved completely to one side, redrawing the mental space from this new position. Then walking through the tunnel around the staircase that led to the surface as one approached the exit, the closed sound opened up more and more, also expanding the sense of space around it as well. In the nave, on the other hand, the sound rises upwards, making the height of the space perceptible.

St. Gertrud Church

The same perceptual approaches lead, in the case of the Church of St. Gertrud, to quite different results precisely because of the different architectural conformation. Here, we find ourselves in a large, completely free hall, devoid of central elements but characterised by an irregular perimeter and a facetted, angular roof, which strongly influences both the perception of the space both at the level of bodily sensations and sound effects. The lack of directional scanning makes the sound confused, rumbling and ‚circular‘, whose origin is not understood, like overlapping echoes that fill the box spreading freely. The effect is reminiscent of the echoes of chant in ancient monasteries, a chant that becomes a vibrating instrument. The facetted ceiling ‚cuts‘ and fragments the sound into successive segments, as if a sudden noise, such as a clap or a thump, is broken up into tiny fragments after reaching a certain height.

The dark, medieval, cave-like character of the dark, the porous surfaces and the heavy, massive appearance are the first impressions on entering. On a bodily level, very noticeable effects were immediately perceived at the level of the head, as if the articulated shape of the ceiling created an uncomfortable effect, similar to the impression of a foreign body leaning across the forehead. Indeed, the angular heaviness of the fan-shaped elements above the room is very noticeable, especially one of them, which is at a lower level than the others. But if you stay in a place for a long time, if you immerse yourself in it, you become more and more aware of the effect it can have, as in this case, on your sense of balance and proprioception. A detail such as the predominance of the orthogonal axis in relation to the central one that leads from the entrance to the altar, together with the lack of depth of the back wall, is felt here as an obstacle to the ample breathing that one would have in the presence of a three-dimensional apse, together with a general sense of imbalance that generates disorientation. And this can be felt all the way down the torso to the legs. Observing, even intuitively, the strong asymmetry that characterises this space, and feeling its effects, provides useful observations for the design of classrooms, for example, where an incorrectly assessed shape can easily lead to pupils having difficulty concentrating and a general feeling of confusion.

DiTiB Central Mosque

The experience of the mosque, for those who, like me, were entering it for the first time, led to broader observations about the different cultural and religious aspects and the architectural spaces derived from them. First of all, we find ourselves in a large complex conceived as a centre for cultural and social, as well as religious, aggregation. The mosque is therefore a building that forms part of a larger complex in which the practical functions (cultural centre, Imams’ school, meeting rooms and a library) are concentrated in buildings with a rectilinear shape, while the space intended for worship is entirely characterised by the curved line and general roundness. Nothing of the Christian character we are used to is to be found in this space, which is on the contrary sunny, open and joyful. The interior of the mosque consists of a huge circular space covered by a large dome made up of two roughly symmetrical shells joined by a curved perimeter window that runs through it from one side to the other.

The floor of the circular room is covered with a blue-turquoise long-pile carpet which,when illuminated by natural light, ‚lights up‘ with the blue of the sky and harmonises with it, symbolising – the guide explained to us – of a lightening of the ground that ‘elevates‘ and takes away the importance of earthly aspects. The guide explained that this space was meant to suggest freedom and lightness, spiritual communion with the divine. The guide’s long explanations, the curiosity, the questions that many wanted to ask, took up much of the attention. Certainly Steiner’s recommendation – to separate sensory perception from the system of interpretations – way very difficult to put into practice here. The attempt to perceive the space was influenced by our feeling of detachment from this type of community and our lack of knowledge of the customs and symbols of the place of worship. It was inevitable to realise how heavily our perceptual apparatus depends on our experience and culture of everything.

Conclusions

On Sunday morning, the last half-day of the seminar, we met to share our impressions of the experience. We put up the sketches that each participant had made from memory, representing the main impression of each of the three places. We noted, albeit briefly, what had already been noted, namely that the dominant impressions were common. The observations varied, but one essential point seems to me to be the way inwhich architecture, through its mission, prepares space for its profound function. In the case of this type of spaces, not only religious but extended to a population, the basis is the construction of a specific consciousness, that lies behind everything, including perception. The visit to the mosque also raised the question of what is the ’sense of the sacred‘; what are the elements that really give a religious architecture the ’sense of the sacred‘ (which for us, coming from the Christian tradition, was totally absent in the mosque).

In ancient times, the Christian space had precise characteristics, which have certainly evolved, but which still correspond to today with our ’sense of the sacred‘. They were spaces designed to ecourage contemplation and prayer, (enclosed, closed, austere, enveloping, not very bright, more or less decorated, with small openings in the thick masonry to favour defined beams of light directed towards specific points in the interior, …). The language of Christianity made use of recurring elements that favoured the coming together of believers in the recognition of the same symbols, and this is certainly true of any other religious culture, in which the associative and interpretive codes are different. In the case of the Cologne mosque, it is not only this aspect that be taken into account, but also the strong aggregative function of the entire complex for a foreign community. Hence the strong distinctive architectural character of a community.