Can Outdoor Spaces Make Us Feel Better? In Conversation with NextSpace CEO Martin Fryzelka

Outdoor spaces shape our behavior long before we consciously register their design. Where we choose to sit, how long we stay, whether we feel exposed or protected, and how quickly we slow down are influenced by shade, landscape and even distance between people.

For Martin Fryzelka of NextSpace, outdoor design begins with the way guests actually experience a place. His work spans hospitality projects including Atlantis The Royal, Marsa Al Arab, Shebara and Mandarin Oriental Muscat, with a particular focus on comfort, privacy and the subtle cues that determine how people feel in outdoor environments.

We spoke with him about the psychology of outdoor spaces, the changing meaning of wellbeing, and the details that turn a hotel terrace into a place where people instinctively want to stay.

When you first walk into a project such as Atlantis The Royal or Shebara, what do you notice that most guests would not?

Atlantis The Royal and Shebara are not variations of the same luxury. They are fundamentally different properties for different audiences.

My first question is not whether a space is beautiful, but whether it understands who has come there and why. Does the hotel promise spectacle, retreat, privacy or social energy, and does the outdoors deliver it?

I then notice what guests rarely articulate but immediately feel: the afternoon sun, the chair no one chooses, the distance to service, and whether the furniture will still look convincing after several seasons.

What separates a striking outdoor space from one that guests actually want to spend time in?

An Instagram setting is designed for arrival. A successful outdoor space is designed for the next two hours.

There will always be guests drawn to the loudest corner. But the guest who stays, orders another drink and returns the next day usually chooses peace, attentive service, a good view and some privacy. A considered mix of materials creates depth; a single bold, highly coloured statement can quickly become tiring.

“An Instagram setting is designed for arrival. A successful outdoor space is designed for the next two hours”

High-backed lounge seating can create personal territory without shutting the guest away. That small sense of protection often determines where people choose to sit.

How do you respond to the landscape, climate and design vision at Shebara?

In a setting as powerful as Shebara, the furniture needs manners. It should connect the architecture to the landscape, not compete with either.

We favour natural shades, with blues and greens that echo water and vegetation. We are cautious with red in this region because it intensifies the visual sensation of heat. Colour is not simply aesthetic; it affects how a place feels.

Salt, ultraviolet exposure, wind and heavy use also expose weak decisions quickly. On a remote project, replacement is complicated. The real cost is not the opening-day price, but how the product looks and performs several seasons later.

Has the way guests used an outdoor space ever surprised you?

Not one project in particular. What surprised me early on, and no longer does, is how hard guests are on hotel furniture. They drag it, move it, spill on it and use it in ways no specification manual anticipated.

That is not exceptional misuse; it is the operating reality. We specify for an area’s intended purpose and for the way the furniture is actually likely to be used. Premium outdoor furniture should survive both.

“Wellness is not a colour palette. It begins when a space stops demanding attention”

Children’s areas require a different discipline. We avoid sharp edges, unstable forms and anything that values appearance over safety.

What have you learned about human behaviour in hotel outdoor spaces?

That people spend far too much time looking at screens. Developers advertise hotels through images of pools, gardens and sunsets, then guests arrive and look at six inches of glass. A good outdoor space cannot force anyone to put a phone away, but it can give the phone serious competition.

A changing view, well-positioned seating and service that arrives at the right moment can bring people back into their surroundings.

What do guests at Atlantis The Royal, Shebara and Mandarin Oriental want emotionally?

They want different versions of luxury. At Shebara, the appeal is distance, nature and escape. Mandarin Oriental guests often value discretion and quietly exacting service. Atlantis The Royal is more social; people come for the dining, the energy and, at times, to be seen.

What connects them is the desire to step away from routine and constant notifications. Some guests want to disappear. Others want the right people to notice them disappearing.

As wellness becomes more important, what has actually changed?

For several years, outdoor spaces tried very hard to become indoor living rooms. Furniture grew deeper, softer and more residential. The idea eventually became too literal.

The direction is shifting. When people go outside, they increasingly want to feel outside. They want natural texture, planting, shadow and a clearer connection to the landscape. Comfort remains essential, but it should not erase the character of the outdoors.

Privacy has also become more nuanced. Guests want a protected seat, not complete isolation.

What makes a space genuinely restorative?

The difference is often found in the elements at the edge of the furniture brief: subtle lighting, lanterns, outdoor rugs, sculptural planters and the right plant species.

These are frequently the first items cut when budgets tighten, yet their absence is immediately felt. A rug softens a hard terrace. A well-placed lantern changes the pace of an evening. Planting creates privacy and makes the space feel connected to its setting.

What do you personally remember from a great hotel?

Always the service and how the place made me feel. On a recent trip, the landscape was exceptionally generous. It gave me room to notice things I normally miss and to move at a different pace. That stayed with me more than any object in the room.

A great hotel does not insist on being remembered. It creates the conditions for memory. Rooms blur; the feeling of being properly looked after remains.