Formal dining & social distancing: the future of restaurant design?
There are endless speculative articles going around guessing what the results of Covid-19 will be, and I hesitate to just add to the pile. But one thing that seems to be a common thread is that lockdown has given us an opportunity to rethink the ways we live, work, and play. At the moment this is particularly true – and fraught – when it comes to restaurants, bars, and hospitality. For the time being, we can hope that the industry survives using any necessary methods to operate and keep us safe. However, in the medium and long term it feels the current restrictions are pushing us towards a longer-lasting cultural shift with implications for design and how the service industry operates.
Fundamentally, the requirements of “Covid-secure” spaces have inadvertently created a return to a more formal way of behaving in and using public spaces. “Formality” suggests an intangible kind of social distance by following a set of social rules and unspoken rituals around them. But in requiring physical distance, we in turn have begun to require rules of social formality that subtly encourage this distance. Most often the idea of formality is associated with the same imagery and cues as luxury, expense, and a sense of conservative tradition. But it seems that as our social needs change formality is relevant beyond a rarefied luxury space. In the “new normal” no matter where we are, we need to sit at designated spaces a considerate distance from our neighbours, be aware of the space we take up, and how we interact with others. Table service is required; we must sit and be served and stay within our group. We need to plan our evenings ahead deliberately: it’s impossible even to get a drink at the ‘speakeasy’ basement of a bar without a reservation, let alone drop in somewhere with indoor seating for a full dinner.
There are some creative examples of short-term formal dining solutions in the midst of the pandemic, with high-end restaurants and chefs adapting to create nearly private experiences for those willing to pay. But as we spend nearly a year re-learning a collective social code, we will no doubt see some longer-term societal and design implications for a wide range of public spaces, not just the traditionally “luxurious” (i.e. inaccessibly expensive) ones. Incorporating cues of distance and formality into more everyday accessible interior spaces would allow the experience of “together but apart” to be an enjoyable part of public social life. Before the pandemic being one with the crowd was a purposeful part of the experience, sitting close together with strangers with little separation between one group and the next. The current situation however makes this trend, and its long communal tables and side-by-side bartop seating if not impossible, not very practical for the restaurant and profitability. As such, there is an opportunity to design new ways of using space for intimate group seating and appreciate that elements of traditional formality and ceremony can bring a unique type of experience in a public space. What I am imagining is playing with ways to incorporate the use of space of formal 20th century luxury dining – for example cozy booths, tables far enough apart that conversations are inaudible – with innovative and on-brand aesthetic styles that move beyond white tablecloths and bank-breaking tasting menus. Embracing the idea that we want the full restaurant experience while staying aloof from the crowd creates an entirely new opportunity for play in the use of space, furniture, and experience design of restaurants and hospitality spaces.
Formality also implies a kind of privacy; it provides rules that allow us to choose our level of intimacy, rather than assuming openness and closeness with strangers and acquaintances. Whereas previously culture was broadly moving towards increased informality – in language, dress codes, and social spaces such as the proliferation of communal tables, and sharing intimate details of our lives on social media – the need for social distancing is chance to opt into limiting how much you share with the strangers around you, well beyond germs. Obviously for many restaurants the requirements of social distancing make it impossible to operate, and I hope that as an outright requirement these things don’t last long. But for newly opening establishments or those with the luxury of a chance to re-design in particular, this readjustment of the industry can provide an opportunity to embrace a sense of small group intimacy within a wider public space through the requirements of more formal approaches to dining.
Cleverly and beautifully designed room dividers spotted at Isabel in Mayfair
Even in smaller spaces or those that cannot be entirely redesigned, the now-ubiquitous social distancing screens present an opportunity for creativity and a new sense of intimacy in crowded spaces. Designing dividers to be added as an intentional element of a restaurant interior – with opaque glass, different colours and shapes, or incorporating materials such as wood – would turn a necessity into an intentional aesthetic experience. (Wallpaper has highlighted a few designers making these more interesting, for example.) These serve the same purpose as a simple plexiglass sheet, but new designs and materials also add a sense of privacy – not only of our airspace but in an intangible social sense as well. In particular screens that incorporate other materials or are designed with semi-opaque glass provide an almost cocoon-like atmosphere to the dining table, while still allowing for the atmosphere of sound, light, and smell that permeate the larger shared space. And in addition to feeling more comfortable staying close to our familiar groups, this is an especially interesting development in an era of technological surveillance and social media oversharing, and may prove to be welcome to many as we tire of the panopticon of iPhone cameras and CCTV. At least for now, however, it’s at least an opportunity for creative ways of making a public health necessity an aesthetic pleasure.
Not only could this change the nature of how groups of guests interact (particularly for those of us who tend to enjoy the company of a good book at the bar), but also with diners’ relationships to restaurant kitchens. Open kitchens and in-sight preparation have become ubiquitous (in parallel with the proliferation of food television, it seems); in sitting right next to the bartender or cook as they prepare an order, the theatre of the restaurant is about watching the preparation of food and chefs are as much performers as anything else. But seated at well-distanced tables there is an opportunity to play again with the immersive “theatre” of the restaurant interior, the service, and the sensory experience of the food and drinks themselves (while leaving the cooking ‘backstage’ as the sociologist Erving Goffman would have it). The interior space therefore can play an even more important role in our sensory experience of the food we eat, through colour, noise, table settings, to name a few possible elements. The way we are seated together, whether we share food or not, and how it is served to us also play a role, and every element can be specifically designed as seating and timing must be pre-coordinated. While again this doesn’t suit every restaurant concept, for some it’s a chance to take think intentionally about how we approach the immersive theatre that is a restaurant, and how to add to the experience for guests.
I would never want to entirely give up the joy of spontaneously wandering between bars on a Saturday night, squeezing into a crowded pub on a Friday evening, or making last minute plans with friends on a weeknight. But there is something to be said for engaging in and appreciating more formal social rituals around dining out, such as needing to be deliberate choosing and appreciating the experience of dining and drinking out: everything from the décor to the food to the service and being able to share an intimate experience and conversation with our chosen companions. For many of us pre-lockdown, we may only have really acknowledged these elements on special occasions at a self-consciously formal (and expensive) location. But increasingly, simply going to eat out is something special (and appreciated as, I would argue, it always should be). Perhaps we can leave the idea of “decorum” in all our interactions in the past, but a renewed appreciation of formality and social distance (both metaphorical and physical) offers a potential way to use current necessity for an interesting creative and social shift into the future. Designers could use the constraints to create spaces of privacy within the public sphere, allow more intimate shared experiences with our friends and family, and reintroduce a feeling of glamour and mystery to dining out. And I’m sure many of us would appreciate a bit of temporary glamour right now.
