How Production Designer Anastasia Ersoy Designs Emotional Spaces Long Before They Are Built

Production Designer Anastasia Ersoy has built her career creating visual environments for entertainment, live productions, branded experiences, and immersive projects. Her work reflects a multidisciplinary approach that combines production design, spatial storytelling, emotional design, and collaborative creative leadership.

“We often think of design as something we see.
The spaces that stay with us, however,
are remembered because of what they make us feel.”

Walk into a beautifully designed space, and your reaction is often immediate. Before you notice the furniture, the lighting, or the architectural details, you have already formed an emotional impression. A room can feel calm, mysterious, welcoming, dramatic, or unsettling within seconds because our relationship with space begins long before we consciously analyze what we are seeing. We tend to think of design as something we observe, yet the most memorable environments remind us that great design is ultimately something we experience. 

This idea lies at the heart of production design, a discipline that quietly shapes the emotional language of film, television, live entertainment, exhibitions, and immersive experiences. While audiences often remember a powerful performance or a compelling story, they are equally influenced by the spaces surrounding those moments. The environment becomes part of the narrative itself, creating atmosphere, directing emotion, and helping viewers accept an imagined world as believable, even if they never consciously recognize its contribution.

“People often remember how a place made them feel before they remember its visual details,” says Production Designer Anastasia Ersoy. “That emotional response is what I try to design. Every creative decision should support that experience.”

The relationship between space and emotion has fascinated architects, artists, and designers for centuries, and production design brings many of those disciplines together through a uniquely collaborative creative process. Every project begins with questions that extend far beyond aesthetics. How should this environment make people feel? What should capture their attention first? How should the space guide their movement, reinforce the emotional rhythm of the story, and shape the way they experience every moment? These questions influence the project long before sketches are drawn, materials are selected, or construction begins. 

“Many people imagine that production design starts with drawing,” Ersoy explains. “For me, it starts with listening. I want to understand the story, the purpose of the project, and the emotional journey the audience will experience. Design becomes much more meaningful when every visual decision grows from that understanding.”

This way of thinking reflects a broader evolution across contemporary design disciplines. Whether creating a film set, an exhibition, a commercial installation, or a live event, designers are placing greater emphasis on experience before appearance. Beautiful environments naturally attract attention, yet the spaces that remain with us are those that create meaning. Museums guide visitors through carefully orchestrated sequences of discovery, retail environments communicate identity through architecture and materiality, hospitality interiors create atmosphere through subtle combinations of light, texture, and proportion, and entertainment productions rely on visual environments that quietly reinforce the emotional arc of every scene. In each of these contexts, the environment extends well beyond decoration, becoming an active participant in the experience itself. 

Ersoy believes this remains one of the most misunderstood aspects of production design.

“People sometimes think our job is to make something look beautiful,” she says. “Beauty certainly matters, but beauty alone rarely creates an emotional connection. Every object, every surface, every color, and every source of light should contribute to a larger idea. When those elements work together, people stop looking at the design and begin experiencing the world it creates.”

That moment of immersion is often invisible. Viewers rarely stop to consider why one room feels intimate while another creates anticipation or quiet tension. Their attention naturally shifts toward the characters, the story, and the emotions unfolding before them because the environment supports every creative element without demanding attention for itself. Perhaps this is the greatest achievement of production design. Its purpose has never been to compete with the narrative. Instead, it provides the visual foundation that allows every other aspect of the story to flourish. Great spaces, after all, are remembered far less for the objects they contain than for the emotions they inspire.

The Psychology of Space

Every environment communicates long before we begin consciously interpreting what we see. A narrow corridor can create anticipation, high ceilings often evoke openness and curiosity, while soft textures introduce a sense of comfort and familiarity. Raw materials, in contrast, may suggest energy, authenticity, or quiet tension. Even emptiness has its own visual language. These reactions occur almost instinctively, reminding us that our relationship with space is deeply emotional before it becomes intellectual. For designers, understanding this connection is every bit as important as mastering composition, proportion, or color theory. 

“People don’t enter a room as passive observers,” Ersoy says. “They immediately begin interacting with it emotionally. They notice proportions, movement, light, and texture, even if they never think about those elements consciously. My role is to anticipate that emotional response and shape it with intention.”

This perspective has gradually transformed production design into a discipline that draws equally from architecture, interior design, psychology, theater, and the visual arts. Every project becomes an exploration of how physical environments influence perception, behavior, and memory. The objective extends beyond creating visually compelling settings. It is about designing spaces that communicate naturally, allowing audiences to experience a story through their surroundings before dialogue, movement, or action begins to unfold.

Among the many creative tools available to a Production Designer, scale remains one of the most influential. A large open environment can communicate freedom, ambition, or isolation depending on how it is organized, while a smaller space may encourage intimacy, security, or emotional tension. The dimensions themselves rarely determine the emotional effect. Instead, it is the relationship between proportion, composition, movement, and the people occupying the space that gives an environment its character.

“Scale changes the way people feel about themselves inside a space,” Ersoy explains. “Sometimes making a room feel larger creates possibility. Sometimes reducing the scale brings the audience emotionally closer to a character. Every decision should support the emotional purpose of the story.”

Light introduces another layer of meaning. Beyond its practical purpose, it directs attention, establishes rhythm, reveals texture, and influences how every material is perceived. Natural light often creates a sense of openness and authenticity, while carefully controlled artificial lighting can introduce mystery, warmth, focus, or dramatic contrast. The relationship between light and materiality ultimately shapes the atmosphere of an environment, allowing the same architectural space to communicate entirely different emotions through subtle visual adjustments.

“Light is never separate from the environment,” Ersoy says. “It completes the space. A material changes depending on how it reflects light, and light changes depending on the surfaces around it. They always work together.”

Materiality itself carries an emotional vocabulary that often goes unnoticed because it feels so instinctive. Wood introduces warmth and familiarity, stone conveys permanence and stability, glass suggests openness while maintaining delicate boundaries, and metal often communicates precision and structure. Fabrics soften both sound and perception, making environments feel more intimate and inviting. For Ersoy, selecting materials has little to do with following contemporary trends. Instead, it involves understanding how every surface contributes to the emotional identity of a space and how seemingly ordinary choices gradually shape a unified visual experience.

“I try to think about materials almost as if they were characters,” she says. “Every surface contributes something to the atmosphere. The objective is to create harmony, where each element supports the emotional identity of the whole environment.”

Interestingly, one of the most powerful design elements is often the one that receives the least attention: empty space. Designers naturally focus on the objects they introduce into a composition, yet experienced professionals understand that restraint can be just as expressive as addition. Space left intentionally unoccupied allows the eye to rest, establishes visual rhythm, and gives surrounding elements greater clarity and presence. Rather than creating absence, thoughtful restraint introduces balance.

“In design, every decision carries weight,” Ersoy explains. “Sometimes removing an element strengthens the entire composition. Space itself is part of the design language.”

This philosophy extends well beyond visual composition. A thoughtfully designed environment encourages people to move naturally, discover details gradually, and experience a place at a comfortable rhythm. Instead of directing attention through obvious visual cues, successful design often guides people almost imperceptibly, allowing them to feel connected to a space without consciously understanding why. That subtle guidance explains why memorable environments remain with us long after we leave them. People rarely remember every object within a room. They remember the atmosphere, the emotions they experienced, and the quiet sense that everything belonged exactly where it should. For Production Designers, creating those lasting impressions is both an artistic challenge and a profound responsibility because every creative decision contributes to an experience that continues to exist in memory long after the physical environment has disappeared.

Designing for Memory

One of the most fascinating aspects of design is that people rarely remember every detail of a space. Instead, they remember how that space made them feel. A visitor may forget the precise arrangement of furniture, the dimensions of a room, or the color of a particular wall. Years later, however, they may still recall a sense of warmth, wonder, anticipation, or quiet reflection that emerged while moving through that environment. Memory is remarkably selective, preserving emotion far more readily than information. For Production Designers, this understanding fundamentally shapes the creative process because the objective extends beyond creating visually compelling compositions. The deeper ambition is to create experiences that continue to resonate long after the physical space itself has disappeared. 

“I don’t think about whether someone will remember a specific object,” Ersoy says. “I think about whether they will remember the atmosphere. If an environment creates a genuine emotional connection, people carry that feeling with them long after the experience has ended.”

This perspective encourages designers to approach every project with patience and restraint. Rather than pursuing immediate visual impact, they seek consistency, allowing every element to contribute to a unified emotional narrative. The audience experiences the environment as a coherent whole instead of a collection of individual design decisions. Achieving that level of coherence often depends on details that remain almost invisible: the transition from one room to another, the gradual shift of natural light throughout the day, the rhythm established through repeating forms and materials, or the delicate balance between openness and intimacy. Individually, these choices may appear insignificant. Together, they define the emotional identity of a place.

“People instinctively recognize when a space feels complete,” Ersoy explains. “They may not be able to explain why, but they sense that every element belongs there. Achieving that feeling requires hundreds of thoughtful decisions that support one another.”

This way of thinking has become increasingly relevant as design expands beyond permanent architecture into temporary environments and immersive experiences. Exhibition pavilions, cultural installations, live productions, and experiential events often exist for only a limited period of time before disappearing completely. Their physical lifespan may be measured in days or weeks, yet the emotional impact they create frequently lasts much longer. This contrast is one of the qualities Ersoy finds most compelling about production design because it reminds her that the value of a space is defined less by its permanence than by the experience it creates.

“You spend weeks or months creating an environment that may exist for only a short time,” she says. “The physical structure eventually disappears, yet the experience continues in people’s memories. Knowing that makes every creative decision feel meaningful.”

Temporary environments reveal something important about contemporary design. Their significance cannot be measured solely by the materials they contain or the length of time they remain standing. A thoughtfully designed space can encourage conversation, curiosity, contemplation, or joy within minutes. It can transform the way people experience a story, engage with a performance, or connect with one another. As audiences increasingly seek participation instead of passive observation, Production Designers are helping create environments that invite exploration and establish genuine emotional engagement.

“People want to feel present inside an experience,” Ersoy says. “They want environments that invite exploration and create a genuine emotional connection. Designing for that kind of engagement is both challenging and incredibly rewarding.”

For Ersoy, these evolving expectations reinforce a principle that has guided her work throughout her career. Good design may capture attention, yet meaningful design earns trust. When people trust a space, they become willing to explore it, believe in it, and emotionally invest in the experience unfolding around them. That trust emerges through careful observation, thoughtful composition, and a deep understanding of how people perceive the world. Perhaps this is why the most memorable environments often feel surprisingly effortless. Behind that sense of ease lies an extensive creative process shaped by research, collaboration, refinement, and countless decisions that remain almost invisible to the audience. The space simply feels right, and sometimes that quiet sense of belonging becomes the most enduring memory of all. 

Design Begins Long Before Construction

Every design discipline begins with a vision, yet that vision rarely starts with objects, materials, or construction techniques. It begins with observation. Designers first seek to understand how people move through a space, where they naturally pause, what captures their attention, and what creates feelings of comfort, curiosity, anticipation, or wonder. These questions cannot be answered through technical drawings alone. They require empathy, imagination, and a genuine understanding of how people experience the world around them. For Ersoy, this human-centered perspective has become the foundation of every project she undertakes because design, at its core, is about creating meaningful relationships between people and the environments they inhabit. 

“I believe every space should tell a story without asking for attention,” she says. “When people feel connected to an environment, they don’t think about the individual design decisions. They simply experience the space naturally. That’s the moment every designer hopes to achieve.”

As design continues to evolve, the boundaries between creative disciplines are becoming increasingly fluid. Architecture influences production design, interior design informs immersive experiences, and visual storytelling extends into exhibitions, hospitality, retail, cultural spaces, and live events. Designers move comfortably between these worlds because each discipline ultimately explores the same essential question: how can space communicate meaning? This shared perspective has become increasingly relevant as audiences seek environments that feel authentic and emotionally engaging. Beautiful spaces continue to inspire admiration, yet the places that remain with us are those that establish a lasting emotional connection. 

For Ersoy, that distinction defines the purpose of thoughtful design.

“Every project reminds me that design is ultimately about people,” she says. “We create environments that support conversations, emotions, discoveries, and memories. If someone leaves a space feeling inspired, curious, or emotionally connected, then the design has fulfilled its purpose.”

This philosophy reflects a broader understanding of what contemporary production design has become. It is a discipline that balances artistic expression with human psychology, technical precision with creative intuition, and individual vision with collaborative thinking. The finished environment may appear effortless, yet behind that sense of simplicity lies an extraordinary process of research, experimentation, dialogue, refinement, and countless creative decisions that gradually shape the final experience. Most of those decisions remain invisible to the audience, although together they establish the atmosphere, rhythm, and emotional coherence that make a space feel authentic.

Perhaps that is the greatest achievement of thoughtful design. It allows people to focus entirely on what they are feeling instead of how those feelings were created. In many ways, the most memorable spaces resemble the most compelling stories. They invite us into another world with such confidence and clarity that the design itself quietly recedes, leaving only the experience behind. Great spaces are never defined solely by their architecture, materials, or carefully composed interiors. They are ultimately defined by the emotions they make possible, and those emotions begin taking shape long before a single wall is built.