
When it comes to designing for a child's imagination, the architectural landscape presents two different philosophies. Disneyland and Studio Ghibli, both masters of imaginative storytelling, represent this core division. Their approaches, far from being accidental, reflect different views on how children experience and engage with space. One provides a spectacle of constructed fantasy, while the other offers a landscape for potential magic. These two models present architects with a fundamental choice for tackling these sorts of projects: to design spaces that cater to children's innate need for sensory and personal discovery, or to create a fantasy that appeals to their growing ability to understand narratives and more complex spaces.
Understanding a Child's Experience of Space

A child's experience of space is fundamentally tied to their stage of development, and understanding it, even broadly, can guide the planning of spaces and activities that can improve their awareness of space. Studies in developmental psychology suggest that it begins with a sensorimotor engagement through touch and manipulation. Until around 7 years old, children are still learning how to interpret their environment, using tactile, and visual stimuli to understand the objects around them, yet the world is mainly perceived haptically. As they reach 8-9 years of age, their perception of space evolves into a more dynamic and exploratory interaction. Here, they slowly become more aware of depth and distance, including the size of their bodies. As they grow older, they also become more aware of other viewpoints, allowing them to perceive things like linear perspective.
The Ghibli Model: Autonomy and Discovery

Studio Ghibli's architectural philosophy is one of discovery and autonomy, creating spaces that respect a child's natural exploratory instincts. This approach is evident in both the Ghibli Museum in Mitaka and the more expansive Ghibli Park in Aichi. The design is rooted in the vision of director Hayao Miyazaki, who conceived of the museum not as a space of grand gestures but as a place that is "interesting and which relaxes the soul, where much can be discovered." This philosophy of "potential magic" is central to Ghibli's design: wonder is not presented but found.
The museum's architecture actively facilitates this discovery. The building is designed to be explored without a map, with rounded corners and a labyrinth of interconnected rooms, bridges, and varied pathways. Spiral staircases, hidden corners, and elevation changes create a relatable and mysterious sense of scale, compelling children to navigate the space autonomously. This design seems to respect a child's developmental need to engage with their environment physically and mentally. The building's tactile richness, like aged wood, textured stone, and exposed brick, encourages hands-on interaction and caters to a child's sensorimotor stage of development.


This philosophy of discovery and environmental harmony extends to Ghibli Park, which is seamlessly integrated into a pre-existing natural landscape. Rather than being a traditional theme park with rides, the architecture is an extension of the environment itself. In areas like the Valley of the Witches, buildings are arranged in a village-like layout that allows visitors to wander and discover details at their own pace, much like exploring a natural landscape. The park's design reaffirms that Ghibli's approach is about crafting subtle, human-scale worlds that invite personal exploration.
The Disneyland Model: Spectacle and Narrative Structure

In contrast, the architectural philosophy of the Disney parks is to provide an experience of shared wonder, where the architecture actively guides and orchestrates a visitor through a fantastical narrative. As author John Hench notes in his book Designing Disney, the aim is to build a complete world, not just a backdrop. The architecture is a central character, directing the visitor's focus and emotional response from the moment they enter. The design relies on urban planning principles and specific architectural tools to achieve this. The most prominent example is Main Street, U.S.A. (or World Bazaar in Tokyo), the first themed land visitors encounter in every Disney park. This area immediately immerses guests in a completely artificial experience by using urban strategies, such as an urban axis, which draws the eye to the park's main focal point: The Castle.


The primary tools for this type of design are forced perspective and deliberate changes of scale. The original Sleeping Beauty Castle in Anaheim, California, designed by Roland E. Hill, stands at 23 meters but appears much taller through this technique. Similar to the façades on Main Street, the scale of the upper floors is progressively reduced to create the illusion of height. This commonplace optical illusion is used throughout the parks to make objects appear larger or smaller, contributing to the sense of a grand fantasy. To maintain this focus, the parks also employ other subtle but intentional visual techniques. For instance, colors such as "go away green" are used to paint utility boxes, trash cans, and other distracting elements, effectively making them visually recede and directing the eye toward the intended landmarks.
The Wider Implications of Engaging with Fantasy

Ultimately, both Disneyland and Studio Ghibli successfully leverage different facets of a child's engagement with fantasy. Disney's parks, through their use of urban planning and architectural illusions, provide a collective, awe-inspiring experience that solidifies a pre-determined narrative. In contrast, the Ghibli model, with its emphasis on discovery, tactile materials, and navigable complexity, respects the child's ability to find magic on their own terms. These two contrasting models offer more than a simple choice for designers. They represent an interesting question about the architecture for children: is the goal to create a perfectly curated reality or to provide a robust, responsive environment that empowers the child to build their own?

This article is part of the ArchDaily Topics: Shaping Spaces for Children, proudly presented by KOMPAN.
At KOMPAN, we believe that shaping spaces for children is a shared responsibility with lasting impact. By sponsoring this topic, we champion child-centered design rooted in research, play, and participation—creating inclusive, inspiring environments that support physical activity, well-being, and imagination, and help every child thrive in a changing world.
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