Between every two rooms, there is a moment most interior architects forget to design.
It is the step between the entrance hall and the salon, the ceiling that drops before a bedroom, or the corridor that narrows before it opens to a view.
These thresholds are not structural.
They are psychological, and they are often the first thing cut when budgets tighten.
A good one works in silence.
You feel the shift before you can explain it.
Without them, rooms simply follow each other.
With them, each space feels like it was earned.
A threshold is not a boundary.
It is a preparation.
By Roy Boustani