Dance Notation; Spatial Analysis

Long before the invention of video recording, dance notation served as a primary method for documenting and archiving movement. Likewise, architecture existed long before computer drafting. These two historical art forms, though distinct, share striking parallels in their evolution and methods of representation.

Among the various systems of dance notation, Rudolf Laban’s Labanotation analyzes human movement holistically, including everyday actions. This complex system of symbols represents bodily movements, making it a valuable tool for recording and studying choreography.
Some might wonder how dance interacts with surrounding space. What are the spatial qualities of a performance, and how do they connect to choreography? How do the spatial restrictions of a performance space influence movement? Furthermore, how can choreography be designed to fit efficiently and artfully within a confined space, and how would that differ in a larger one?
A personal notation system was developed, translating movement into a two-dimensional record through painted responses to music. This system was the foundation for a full-body performance on large-scale paper, which was later reinterpreted within three distinct spatial conditions—rectangle, circle, and triangle. The variations in spatial constraints revealed their impact on movement dynamics, reinforcing the reciprocal relationship between space and choreography. These experiments demonstrated that movement is inherently shaped by its spatial framework, emphasizing the influence of geometry on bodily expression.

By embodying the dance notation, two-dimensional patterns were brought to life, revealing new dimensions as movement responded to shifts in direction and spatial positioning. Unlike static representations, the physical execution uncovered subtleties that emerged through real-time adaptation. Additionally, audience proximity influenced the performance, introducing an interactive layer of interpretation. Performing a choreographed sequence based on written notation revealed the physical traces left behind—marks on the floor created by movement. These imprints offered a large-scale interpretation of the choreography, transforming the notation from a compact 7-inch by 4-inch page into a 10-foot by 11-foot physical “page” within the performance space. This shift in scale provided new insight into notation’s adaptability, highlighting the ways in which movement, spatial constraints, and personal interpretation shape execution.

Furthering this notion, the body itself can be considered a framework—its limitations and individual precision directly influencing the execution of choreography. Factors such as height, strength, and flexibility introduce subtle variations in movement; for example, a 5’3” dancer may exert more energy to match the jump height of a 5’7” dancer, creating perceptible differences even within the same choreographic sequence. This underscores the body’s role as both a spatial and dynamic variable in performance.

Through a series of experiments, it became evident that space can contract, expand, or filter a choreographic work, directly influencing its form and perception. As a modeling tool, the human body provides the most authentic representation of dance, preserving its experiential essence and spatial intent.

In architecture, precision is often dictated by machines and digital tools, yielding seemingly flawless results. But what if architecture were shaped by the body—with all its imperfections, variations, and unpredictability? How might the marks, traces, and physical limitations of the body translate into spatial or architectural forms? Can movement itself serve as a generative tool for design rather than merely a means of representation?

This thesis explores these questions, proposing that dance and the body’s inherent irregularities offer an alternative approach to architectural design.