Rachana Rao moves between two worlds with quiet confidence. Today, she works as a designer at O’Neil Langan Architects in New York. There she helps shape retail spaces for brands that millions of shoppers know at a glance. Yet her real questions reach well beyond storefronts and shop windows. Indeed, she keeps asking how a single room can hold memory, ritual, and a true sense of home.
Her path began in Bangalore, where a childhood love of drawing slowly grew into a love of buildings. First, she earned a Bachelor of Architecture at MS Ramaiah Institute of Technology. She then worked as an architect for about two years, long enough to master the technical language of buildings, but also long enough to realize she wasn’t done learning about the human experience of space: how a room can shape a mood, a routine, a life. That unfinished question carried her across an ocean to study interior design at Pratt Institute. Along the way, she worked on homes, hotels, offices, and shops across two continents. Because of that range, she now reads space through many different lenses at once: the architect’s eye for structure, the designer’s feel for atmosphere, and a traveler’s understanding of how people live differently around the world
Still, one thread ties all her work together: culture. Her defining work, a year-long study on culture that culminated in a thesis exploring hybridity in dining, reflects how her writing goes beyond the surface to the depths of real sensory experience. Moreover, she draws on thinkers such as Homi Bhabha and Juhani Pallasmaa to make one simple argument. In her view, belonging arrives through smell, sound, food, and atmosphere rather than through decoration alone.
Alongside her design work, Rachana maintains an active art practice in linework with pen and ink. Recently, her work earned an honorable mention in the Shared Ground online exhibition hosted by Rexhibit. Naturally, that sensitivity to line and mood feeds straight back into her spatial thinking. Because she draws constantly, she notices texture and atmosphere that others might miss.
What strikes you first about Rachana is her range. Within a single week, she might detail a storefront and sketch a quiet landscape. Because she has worked across continents, she carries many reference points at once. Moreover, she treats each discipline as a way to study the same puzzle. In every case, she returns to people and to how they encounter them inside a space. Because of that focus, her projects feel personal rather than generic. Moreover, they invite you to slow down and pay close attention.
We sat down with her to talk about heritage, hospitality, retail, and the slow craft of making people feel at home. Throughout the conversation, she spoke with warmth, candor, and a designer’s careful eye. Above all, she returned to one idea again and again: a space should make you feel something real. You can explore her projects on her online portfolio and follow her career on LinkedIn.
Roots in Bangalore
New York Art Life Magazine: Let us start at the beginning. How did design first enter your life?
Rachana Rao: For me, it started with a pencil long before it started with a plan. As a child in Bangalore, I drew constantly, and I loved rearranging the spaces around me. Naturally, that early habit grew into real curiosity about how buildings were designed. So I chose to study architecture, and the choice felt almost obvious at the time. Over the years, that curiosity never faded; instead, it only deepened.
Of course, the formal training added rigor to that instinct. As an undergraduate, I learned how a drawing becomes a real building. Moreover, I learned how drawings are translated into built form. Because of that foundation, I never saw beauty and structure as rivals. Instead, I learned to treat them as partners. Even now, I approach each project with the same wonder I felt as a kid with a sketchbook.
In fact, that childhood instinct still guides my choices today. Whenever I enter a room, I read it almost without thinking. So the work feels less like a job and more like a way of seeing. Because love came first, discipline never felt like a burden. Instead, it always felt like a gift.
New York Art Life Magazine: You trained in India and then moved to New York. What drew you to Pratt?
Rachana Rao: I wanted a wider view of the world, and New York promised exactly that. After a few years in practice, I felt ready for a fresh challenge. So I applied to the Master of Fine Arts in Interior Design at Pratt. From the start, the program pushed me to think about culture and identity, not only aesthetics. Meanwhile, the city itself became a second classroom.
Still, the move was not simple. Leaving home always carries a quiet cost. However, that distance taught me something important about belonging. Because I was suddenly an outsider, I began to notice what makes a place feel like home. In turn, that single question became the heart of my graduate research.
Beyond that, Pratt connected me to people from everywhere. In the studio, my classmates carried stories from many countries. As a result, our conversations stretched my thinking every day. Meanwhile, I learned to defend my ideas with real clarity. Over time, that exchange shaped the designer I am now.
Hybridity and Belonging
New York Art Life Magazine: Your work is titled Hybridity: Crafting Dining Experiences That Transcend Cultural Boundaries. What is the core idea?
Rachana Rao: At its core, the work argues that culture is far more than a look. Too often, designers reduce identity to motifs, patterns, and color palettes. Yet belonging rarely forms through images alone. Instead, it grows through atmosphere, ritual, memory, sound, smell, and food. Therefore, I wanted to study dining as a space where all of these senses meet.
Food, after all, carries memory better than almost anything else. When we eat together, we share more than a meal; we share a moment. So I treated the dining room as a stage for cultural exchange. Moreover, I asked how a restaurant might hold several identities at once. Ultimately, the thesis became a plea for depth over decoration. If you are curious, you can read the full study through the ProQuest archive.
Through the research, I also studied real restaurants and real meals. For example, I looked at how seating shapes a conversation. In addition, I studied how light and sound set a mood. Because those little details guide behavior, they carry real meaning. So the thesis stayed practical, even while it asked big questions.
New York Art Life Magazine: You lean on thinkers like Homi Bhabha and Juhani Pallasmaa. How do they shape your work?
Rachana Rao: Both writers gave me language for ideas I already felt. Bhabha, for instance, describes culture as something always in motion. In The Location of Culture, he treats identity as a process rather than a fixed thing. Because of that view, I stopped chasing a single pure or authentic style. Instead, I started designing for translation and change.
Pallasmaa, meanwhile, speaks to the body. In The Eyes of the Skin, he questions the role of the eye in architecture. According to him, we feel space through touch, smell, and sound as much as sight. So I try to design for the whole body, not only the camera. Together, these two voices keep me honest.
Moreover, the two thinkers shape how I begin a project. First, I ask what story a space should hold. Then, I ask how the body will move and feel inside it. Because I keep both questions close, my designs aim for feeling rather than just form. In the end, theory becomes a tool, never a cage.
Of course, I never follow theory blindly. Instead, I test each idea against real human behavior. Because people surprise us, I stay flexible. So the books guide me, yet the people decide. In the end, lived experience always wins.
Memory, Heritage, and Food
New York Art Life: Your own heritage runs right through this research. Tell us about that.
Rachana Rao Magazine: I come from a Mangalorean family, yet I grew up in Bangalore. Because my parents moved to the city, my link to our roots became fragmented. During the summers, we returned to our ancestral home in Kundapura. There, I met rituals that felt both beautiful and unfamiliar. As a child, for example, I once watched a Bhoota Kola performance dedicated to a local deity.
Still, my sharpest memories are not the rituals themselves. Rather, they are the moments around them. I remember humid evenings, temple courtyards, and long drives between towns. Above all, I remember the food. Once, I ate a spiced puffed rice snack called “churmuri” at a roadside stall just outside a temple. To this day, that taste, that smell, and that heat live together in my mind.
Looking back, I see how those visits formed me. Although I stood a little apart, I absorbed so much. In fact, that gentle distance became a kind of lens. Because I watched rather than fully belonged, I noticed every detail. So my outsider view slowly turned into a designer’s eye.
Even today, those sensory memories guide my hand. A certain smell or sound can return in an instant. Because the body remembers, I design for the body first. So I chase atmosphere before I chase style. In that way, memory becomes my Muse.
New York Art Life: So food became a kind of memory keeper for you?
Rachana Rao Magazine: Exactly. Certain dishes hold an entire region inside them. Ghee roast and neer dosa, for instance, carry the climate and the coast of Karnataka. Whenever I taste them, the geography returns at once. Because of that power, I treat food as a design material in its own right.
Therefore, when I design a dining space, I think well past the plate. I consider the air, the light, the sound, and the pace of the meal. Moreover, I ask how a guest moves through the room. Ultimately, I want the whole setting to deepen the food, not distract from it. In that sense, a restaurant is really a stage for memory.
Beyond memory, food also brings people together. So I design dining rooms at home to invite that closeness. For instance, I think about how guests face one another. Above all, a good meal is also a social act.
New York Art Life: In your writing, you compare Nobu Barcelona with the Met show China: Through the Looking Glass. Why those two?
Rachana Rao Magazine: Those two cases sit at opposite ends of one spectrum. Nobu Barcelona, designed by the Rockwell Group, handles culture with real subtlety. Rather than copying Japanese forms, the design quietly suggests them. For example, woven screens echo a certain rhythm without shouting about it. As a result, the identity unfolds slowly as you move through the space.
By contrast, the Met exhibition leaned toward spectacle. Although it was visually ambitious, many critics found it exoticizing. In that case, culture became a consumable image rather than a lived feeling. So the comparison taught me a clear lesson. Above all, depth beats decoration every single time.
Still, I hold both projects with respect, not judgment. Each one teaches a real lesson about culture and design. Because the stakes are high, designers must tread with care. So I always ask whose story a space tells. Ultimately, I aim to honor culture rather than perform it.
Looking forward, I want to learn from both approaches. From Nobu, I take restraint and subtlety. From the Met show, I take a clear warning about spectacle. Because both lessons matter, I hold them side by side. So every project becomes a careful balance.
Inside the Retail World
New York Art Life: Today you work at O’Neil Langan Architects on retail projects. What does that work involve?
Rachana Rao Magazine: Currently, I work on retail spaces for brands such as Victoria’s Secret and Faherty. My role spans the full life of a project. For instance, I prepare permit sets and millwork drawings. In addition, I review shop drawings and coordinate closely with consultants. Throughout, I keep a sharp eye on code compliance.
Retail is a fast and demanding world. Because brands carry strong identities, every detail truly matters. So I balance creative intent with strict practical limits. Meanwhile, I learn something new on almost every project. Over time, this work has sharpened my technical precision more than any other role.
Day-to-day, the pace also keeps me sharp. Often, several deadlines arrive at once. So I plan carefully and stay organized. Meanwhile, I lean on my team when the load grows heavy. Through that rhythm, I have grown far more confident as a designer.
New York Art Life: How do you balance creativity with all those regulations and constraints?
Rachana Rao Magazine: I have stopped seeing constraints as the enemy of creativity. Instead, I treat them as part of the puzzle. Often, a tough limit pushes me toward a smarter idea. Because the rules stay fixed, my imagination is challenged. As a result, the final design usually grows stronger rather than weaker.
Of course, this mindset took time to build. Early in my career, I wanted total freedom. Eventually, though, I learned that buildings live in the real world. Codes protect people, budgets shape choices, and timelines focus the mind. Therefore, I now welcome those forces.
Beyond the rules, the people keep me honest, too. Clients, consultants, and contractors all bring strong views. Because I must weigh each one, I learn to adapt quickly. So a final design carries many voices, not only mine. In that sense, limits make the work more human.
Because the challenge is hard, the reward feels earned. So I no longer dread the rules. Instead, I almost look forward to them.
A Parallel Life in Pen and Ink
New York Art Life Magazine: Beyond architecture, you keep an active art practice. Tell us about it.
Rachana Rao: Yes, I draw constantly in linework with pen and ink. Through that work, I explore the meeting of nature and human hands. Often, I return to themes of coexistence, memory, and place. Recently, my art earned an honorable mention in the Shared Ground online exhibition hosted by Rexhibit. Naturally, that recognition meant a great deal to me.
For me, drawing is a slower, quieter practice than design. Because it answers to no client and no code, it stays fully personal. Still, the two practices feed each other constantly. While I draw, I study composition, light, and mood. In turn, those lessons sharpen the spaces I design later.
Over time, my art has also become a steady anchor. Whenever a project grows stressful, I return to the page. There, I find quiet and focus once again. Because the practice asks nothing of me, it restores me. So drawing keeps both my hands and my mind alive.
New York Art Life Magazine: How exactly does art inform architecture, and vice versa?
Rachana Rao: Both practices share the same core questions. In each one, I think about balance, rhythm, and atmosphere. When I draw a landscape, for example, I study how light shapes a mood. Later, I bring that same attention into a room. So the sketchbook becomes a kind of laboratory.
Meanwhile, architecture teaches a discipline that helps my art. Because buildings demand structure, I learned to plan with care. In turn, my drawings gained clarity and intention. Ultimately, the two practices form one long conversation. Above all, both ask how a person feels in a place.
For instance, I often sketch a space before I model it. Through those quick drawings, I test a feeling fast. Then, once the mood feels right, I move to the computer. Because the hand leads the way, the design stays warm. In short, the pen still comes first.
The Portfolio and the Range
New York Art Life Magazine: Let us talk about your portfolio. Which projects feel most personal to you?
Rachana Rao: Several projects sit very close to my heart. Silk Road Soirée, for instance, let me explore dining across cultures. A Fractal Hybrid, meanwhile, grew directly from my thesis research. In that project, I tried to weave many identities into one space. Because the theme was so personal, the work felt almost like a self-portrait.
Still, every project in my portfolio taught me something different. EKA Wellness, for example, pushed me toward calm and restraint. The Agency, by contrast, asked for energy and edge. Throughout them all, I kept testing the same belief. In short, space should make people feel something real.
Beyond those, I keep returning to the theme of hybridity. In Spent Surfaces, for instance, I studied material and memory. In A Mosaic of Perspectives, I brought many viewpoints together. Because each project asks a fresh question, the work never feels repetitive. So my portfolio reads like a long, evolving study.
Above all, the portfolio shows my growth over time. Early projects taught me confidence and care. Later projects gave me a clearer voice. Because each one is built on the last, the collection feels honest. So I see it as a record of constant learning.
New York Art Life Magazine: You have worked across residential, hospitality, workplace, and retail. How has that range shaped you?
Rachana Rao: That range is one of the great gifts of my career. In India, I worked on homes and hospitality projects. Later, at Perkins Eastman, I joined the workplace and hospitality work. Now, at O’Neil Langan, I focus on retail. Because of that path, I read space through many lenses at once.
Each sector, of course, has its own rules and rhythms. Hospitality cares about mood and welcome. Workplace cares about flow and focus. Retail cares about brand and speed. Still, the variety brings real challenges too. Each sector uses its own language and tools. So I must keep learning new codes and habits. Meanwhile, I carry lessons from one field into the next. As a result, a hospitality idea sometimes improves a retail plan.
Collaboration, Advice, and What Comes Next
New York Art Life Magazine: Design is rarely a solo act. How do you approach collaboration?
Rachana Rao: For me, collaboration is the heart of good design. On almost every project, I work with consultants, contractors, and teammates. Because so many voices shape a building, listening matters as much as drawing. So I try to stay open and curious in every meeting.
Early on, in fact, I learned this on a two person team in Bangalore. Together, we retrofitted a clubhouse, and we shared every decision. Through that close work, I saw how trust speeds up design. Since then, I have valued small, honest teams. Above all, I believe a good idea can come from anyone in the room.
Moreover, collaboration keeps my ego in check. No single person can hold all the answers. Because of that truth, I ask many questions and listen hard. So the best meetings feel like shared discovery. In the end, the building belongs to everyone who shaped it.
For me, the social side of design matters deeply. A studio runs on respect and clear communication. Because teams thrive on trust, I work to build it daily. So I share credit freely and own my mistakes. In return, the whole team grows stronger.
New York Art Life Magazine: What advice would you give young designers, especially those from a diaspora?
Rachana Rao: First, I would say trust your own memories. Your background is not a limit; instead, it is a resource. Because your experience is unique, your perspective is unique too. So bring your full self into the studio. Often, the most personal work turns out to be the most universal.
Second, learn the technical craft without apology. Vision matters, yet execution makes it real. Therefore, master the drawings, the codes, and the details. Meanwhile, keep your curiosity alive outside of work. In the end, the best designers never stop noticing the world around them.
Finally, be patient with your own growth. A career is long, and skill arrives slowly. Because progress takes time, comparison only hurts. So measure yourself against your past, not against others. In time, your own voice will grow clear and strong.
New York Art Life Magazine: Finally, what comes next for you?
Rachana Rao: Looking ahead, I want to keep bridging culture and space. Specifically, I hope to design more hospitality and dining environments. In those settings, I can put my research directly into practice. Moreover, I want to keep drawing and exhibiting my art. For me, the two paths will always travel together.
More than anything, I want my work to mean something. A beautiful space is good, yet a meaningful one is better. So I will keep asking how design can hold memory and care. Because that question never ends, my work stays alive. In that way, the search itself becomes the reward.
Beyond that, I simply want to keep learning. Because design never stands still, neither can I. So I plan to stay curious, humble, and open. Ultimately, my goal is steady and clear. Above all, I want to build places where people truly feel at home.
