The Apple TV+ series “Severance” has captivated audiences with its intriguing premise of surgically divided consciousness, but beyond its narrative twists and compelling characters lies a meticulously crafted visual landscape where architecture takes center stage. The unsettling and often eerie design of the Lumon Industries headquarters is not merely a backdrop; it is a fundamental element that contributes significantly to the show’s atmosphere and thematic depth . The architectural and design choices have sparked considerable interest within the design community, prompting analyses on platforms such as Dezeen and Designboom.
Beyond its striking visuals, the architecture in ‘Severance’ holds a wealth of symbolic weight; this article explores how its design language amplifies the series’ thematic depth. The immediate appeal of “Severance” extends to its carefully constructed visual environment, indicating that production design, particularly architecture, plays a vital role in drawing and retaining audience attention . The dedication of online communities to dissecting the show’s design choices, such as identifying specific furniture pieces and analyzing color palettes, further underscores the deliberate and impactful use of architecture and design by the show’s creators, warranting a more in-depth examination .
The Cold Geometry of Control: Deconstructing Lumon’s Design
The architectural style prevalent in “Severance” is primarily mid-century modernism , layered with notable brutalist and retro-futuristic undertones. The inspiration for the imposing Lumon Industries headquarters comes from the real-world Bell Labs complex in Holmdel, New Jersey, designed by the renowned architect Eero Saarinen . Originally conceived as a “corporate utopia,” Bell Labs was intended to foster collaboration and creativity among its engineers and scientists . However, “Severance” cleverly inverts this idealistic vision, transforming Saarinen’s modernist masterpiece into an ominous symbol of control and dehumanization . The exterior shots of Lumon are indeed filmed at Bell Works, the repurposed former Bell Labs, where the developer consciously aimed to respect Saarinen’s original design .
The interior spaces of Lumon are the vision of production designer Jeremy Hindle, who sought to create a workspace that feels simultaneously familiar and unsettling . Hindle drew inspiration from 1960s office designs , aiming to evoke a sense of creative inspiration while establishing an eerie and unsettling atmosphere that aligns with the show’s narrative of severed memories and a mysterious employer . The selection of a real-world modernist building with a history deeply rooted in technological innovation, now serving as a representation of corporate control in the show, introduces a compelling layer of meta-commentary on the evolution of work environments and the potential for corporate power to distort even the most progressive designs.
Bell Labs, once a vibrant hub of scientific advancement, is reimagined as Lumon, suggesting a perversion of its initial purpose, where spaces intended for progress can morph into instruments of confinement. The developer’s description of the building as “a shell devoid of humanity” before its renovation resonates with the atmosphere meticulously crafted within Lumon’s walls .
Furthermore, Hindle’s deliberate choice to create a design distinct from contemporary offices implies a critique of modern workplace aesthetics, perhaps suggesting a decline in distinctiveness or a proliferation of sterile and uninspired environments. His assertion that current offices are “so uncreative” and his aspiration for Lumon to evoke “creative inspiration,” albeit in a warped context, underscores a perceived contrast between past and present approaches to corporate design .
Inside the Machine: Key Architectural Elements and Their Significance
The interior of Lumon Industries is characterized by several key architectural elements that contribute to its oppressive and unsettling atmosphere. Sterile white corridors stretch endlessly, symbolizing confinement, anonymity, and the systematic erasure of individuality . These “mind-numbing networks of bare white corridors” evoke a sense of “liminal horror,” creating unease through their sheer scale and lack of distinguishing features . In contrast to the long hallways, the Macrodata Refinement (MDR) office features vast open spaces where employees sit adjacent to each other. This arrangement emphasizes the physical closeness of the seating while simultaneously fostering a feeling of being constantly surrounded and observed .
The combination of green carpeting and harsh, oppressive white lighting in these open areas further contributes to a sterile and subtly hostile environment . The pervasive fluorescent lighting throughout Lumon adds to the cold and unwelcoming ambiance . A deliberate lack of personal touches in the workspaces reinforces the theme of dehumanization and the suppression of personal identity among the severed employees . Finally, the pervasive symmetrical design of the office layout creates a feeling of monotony and rigid control . The contrast between the intended openness of modernist design and its application in “Severance” as a tool for surveillance and control underscores how architectural principles can be manipulated to serve oppressive ends .
While modernism often promoted open plans to encourage interaction and collaboration, in Lumon, this openness, coupled with the absence of personalization and the stark lighting, cultivates a sense of constant exposure and monitoring. The recurring motif of seemingly endless hallways and identical rooms throughout Lumon evokes the feeling of a disorienting labyrinth, effectively trapping the “innies” both physically and psychologically . This architectural element directly contributes to the sense of “liminal horror” and the feeling of inescapable confinement. The description of Lumon as a “corporate labyrinth” and the explicit comparison to “The Backrooms,” a digital urban legend featuring an infinite maze of office spaces , strongly support this interpretation.
Furniture as a Narrative Device: Function, Form, and Fear
The furniture and office equipment within Lumon also play a crucial role in shaping the show’s narrative and atmosphere. Retro-looking computer monitors, keyboards, and trackballs create an ambiguous temporal setting, contributing to the feeling of being disconnected from the contemporary outside world . The presence of pieces designed by Dieter Rams, a pioneer of minimalist industrial design, reinforces the company’s clinical, function-over-form aesthetic and contributes to the overall retro-futuristic feel of the environment . Other notable furniture items, such as chairs originally designed for Chanel showrooms in the 1960s and 70s, the Vitsoe 620 chair, Joe Colombo’s Universal Plastic Chair, and Luigi Massoni’s Dilly Dally dressing cabinet found in Miss Casey’s room, further contribute to the show’s distinct visual language .
The fact that some props and furniture are custom-made or sourced from abroad further enhances the feeling that Lumon exists in a timeless vacuum, isolated from the “real” world . The deliberate selection of furniture spanning different eras and styles, including mid-century modern and retro-futuristic designs, fosters a sense of temporal disorientation, mirroring the “innies'” lack of connection to their past and the outside world. This ambiguity prevents both the characters within the show and the viewers from firmly placing the narrative in a specific time period, thereby amplifying the feeling of being confined within an artificial reality.
The consistent emphasis on minimalist and purely functional design, particularly evident through the inclusion of Dieter Rams’ work, aligns with the overarching themes of control and efficiency. This design philosophy suggests a corporate ideology that prioritizes productivity and utility within the workplace, often at the expense of individual comfort, personal expression, or any sense of warmth.
The Psychology of Space: How Architecture Shapes Identity and Memory
The “severed floor” of Lumon Industries serves as a physical manifestation of the split consciousness experienced by the employees . The sterile and meticulously controlled environment mirrors the compartmentalization of the “innies'” lives, where their work persona is entirely separate from their “outie” existence. The repetitive and monotonous architecture of the severed floor can significantly impact the “innies'” sense of self and memory, creating a disorienting feeling of being perpetually trapped in an endless loop . The deliberate lack of connection to the outside world within Lumon’s architectural design reinforces the isolation and dependence of the “innies” on the company for their entire existence while severed .
The architecture of Lumon masterfully evokes the concept of “liminal horror,” generating an unsettling feeling of being in a space that appears to be a familiar office environment yet feels profoundly wrong and psychologically manipulative . The architecture actively plays a role in the creation and maintenance of the “innie” persona by providing a sensory-deprived and highly controlled environment that actively discourages any connection to the “outie” world. The absence of natural light, personal belongings, and external sensory input within Lumon’s severed floor reinforces the “innies'” isolated existence and their complete reliance on the company for all aspects of their daily experience.
The pervasive feeling of “liminal horror” stems from the subtle yet persistent discordance between the expected functionality of a typical office space and the underlying sense of unease and psychological manipulation conveyed by Lumon’s unsettling design. While the spaces outwardly resemble functional workplaces, there is an inherent wrongness in their vast scale, extreme sterility, and complete disconnection from the natural world, creating a pervasive atmosphere of dread and psychological discomfort.
A World Apart: The Dichotomy of Lumon and the Outside
The series deliberately presents a stark contrast in the architectural representation of Lumon Industries and the outside world. The controlled and artificial environment within Lumon stands in stark opposition to the glimpses of the outside world, which are characterized by softer, earthier tones and more naturalistic settings . Even within the “outie” world, however, there is a subtle sense of anonymity, with a notable lack of clear time or place markers, contributing to an underlying feeling of unease . The cinematography further emphasizes this dichotomy through the use of distinct camera styles for each world. Inside Lumon, wide angles and static shots are frequently employed, making the characters appear small and insignificant within the vast, impersonal office space .
In contrast, scenes in the “outie” world utilize more dynamic and intimate shots, often with closer framing, drawing the audience into the characters’ personal lives and emotions . The elevator serves as a crucial physical and psychological transition point between these two distinct realities, with the use of a dolly zoom effect visually emphasizing the dramatic shift in persona as an employee travels between the “innie” and “outie” worlds . The deliberate visual contrast between Lumon’s sterile interior and the more naturalistic exterior strongly reinforces the central theme of duality and the inherently artificial nature of the “severed” existence. This visual distinction immediately signals to the viewer the change in perspective and the fundamental difference between the two realities experienced by the characters.
Despite the apparent freedom of the outside world, its subtle anonymity, characterized by the lack of specific time or place cues, might suggest an underlying tension or a lack of complete clarity and vibrancy, even beyond the confines of Lumon . The “muted earthy tones” observed in the “outie” world, while offering a warmer palette than the stark interiors of Lumon, still contribute to a sense of underlying tension, as if the characters are not fully experiencing their lives with complete vividness.
Decoding the Details: Symbolism in Specific Rooms
Certain rooms within Lumon Industries hold particular symbolic significance, further enriching the show’s thematic exploration.
The Wellness Room
The Wellness Room stands out with its ostensibly relaxing and cozy design, incorporating natural elements such as a tree, wood paneling, and soft, circular lighting . This design is in stark contrast to the sterile and minimalist aesthetic of the rest of the office. The tree, in particular, along with other natural elements like rocks and a wooden log, may symbolize Ms. Casey/Gemma’s “outie” life and the circumstances surrounding her death in a car accident involving a tree . The Wellness Room functions as a space where “innies” receive carefully curated and limited information about their “outies,” ostensibly to promote well-being . The design of the Wellness Room, while seemingly intended to provide comfort and therapeutic benefits, may actually serve a more manipulative purpose, potentially acting as a subtle trigger for suppressed memories or as a means to gauge the effectiveness and stability of the severance procedure . The removal of the tree from the Wellness Room following Ms. Casey’s dismissal strongly suggests a direct symbolic connection between her “outie” identity and this specific design element . Given that Ms. Casey is revealed to be Mark’s deceased wife, Gemma, the design of this room takes on an even deeper layer of complexity and potential psychological manipulation.
The Break Room
The Break Room initially appears as a dark and confined space, primarily used for psychological punishment . Employees sent to the Break Room are forced to repeatedly read a scripted apology statement while being monitored for any signs of genuine remorse . The ironic naming of the room, as a “break” from work, starkly highlights the subversion of typical workplace expectations and the punitive nature of Lumon’s environment . Interestingly, the Break Room undergoes a redesign in Season 2, transforming into a space that more closely resembles a traditional office break room, complete with plush chairs and a television screen . This redesign may represent a superficial attempt by Lumon to project a more benevolent image, potentially in response to internal or external pressures . The Break Room powerfully exemplifies the show’s core themes by taking an ordinary aspect of work life – a break room – and twisting it into a tool of profound psychological control and dehumanization. The literal “breaking” of the employees’ spirits within this room underscores the oppressive nature of Lumon and the blatant disregard for basic human dignity. The redesign of the Break Room in Season 2 hints at a potential shift in Lumon’s public facade, suggesting an attempt to appear more humane, but it is unlikely to signify a fundamental change in the company’s authoritarian practices.
Art as Corporate Doctrine: Propaganda and the Cult of Kier Eagan
Art plays a significant role within the world of Lumon Industries, with numerous paintings displayed throughout the offices, particularly those depicting scenes from the life of the company’s founder, Kier Eagan . These paintings can be interpreted as a form of corporate propaganda, serving to indoctrinate employees, intimidate dissenters, and imbue Lumon’s philosophy with an aura of historical legitimacy and authority . Some of Lumon’s artwork contains explicit references to real-world masterpieces, such as the resemblance of “An Iron Forge” to a painting by Joseph Wright and the chaotic scenes reminiscent of Francisco de Goya’s works . The concept of the “Four Tempers” – Woe, Frolic, Dread, and Malice – a cornerstone of Kier Eagan’s philosophy, is also visually represented in Lumon’s art and permeates the company’s corporate ideology . Even the historical rivalry between the Macrodata Refinement (MDR) and Optics & Design (O&D) departments is depicted in the artwork, subtly reinforcing division and preventing potential solidarity among employees .
The art within Lumon functions as a potent visual manifestation of the company’s cult-like culture and the deification of its founder, Kier Eagan, effectively reinforcing its control over the “innies'” perceptions and beliefs. The consistent repetition of Kier Eagan’s image and the glorification of his life and teachings cultivate a sense of reverence and unquestioning loyalty among the severed employees. This manipulation of perception through art mirrors real-world propaganda techniques employed by various organizations and regimes. Furthermore, the strategic use of art to depict and perpetuate inter-departmental conflict highlights Lumon’s deliberate strategy of division and control, actively preventing employees from forming a unified resistance against the company’s practices. By fostering rivalry and mistrust between departments, Lumon can more effectively maintain its authority and prevent the “innies” from collaborating or collectively questioning the company’s underlying motives and operations.
The Architecture of Alienation and Control
The architecture in “Severance” transcends mere set decoration; it plays a vital role in expressing the show’s core themes of identity, control, and the dehumanizing aspects that can arise in certain corporate settings. Key architectural features, such as the sterile white corridors and harshly lit open office spaces, along with the symbolic designs of rooms like the Wellness Room and the Break Room, create a pervasive sense of discomfort and psychological manipulation. Rather than serving as a simple backdrop, the architecture actively shapes the narrative, influencing the characters’ experiences and deeply affecting the audience’s grasp of the show’s central ideas.
Through its exploration of an extreme form of work-life separation exemplified by the “severance” procedure, “Severance” highlights a stark architectural contrast between Lumon and the outside world, crafting a compelling cautionary tale. This narrative encourages viewers to critically assess the potential repercussions of placing corporate demands and technological advancements above essential elements of personal well-being and identity. The unsettling design of Lumon’s spaces and the constrained lives of the “innies” prompt reflection on the ethical implications of increasingly immersive and potentially controlling work environments in our own society.