Rudolf Labans

Theory of Movement Harmony

Dr. Carol-Lynne Moore

To my children,
Keita Carey Moore and Kiyomi Lynne Moore

CONTENTS
Original Artworks by Rudolf Laban ................................................................ ix
Preface ............................................................................................................. xi
Acknowledgements ........................................................................................ xv
Introduction .................................................................................................... 1
Tracing a Theory: Research Material and Methods ..................... 2
A Beautiful Theory Movement Harmony ................................... 5
Chapter 1 Labans Journey: Art, Dance, and Beyond .............................. 9
Art and Dance: A Study in Contrast .............................................. 9
Labans Early Years (1879-1899) ................................................ 10
A Life for Art (1900-1907) .......................................................... 14
Transitional Years (1910-1912) ................................................... 16
Experimentation and Turmoil (1913-1919) ................................. 18
A Life for Dance (1920-1937) ..................................................... 22
Beyond Dance (1938-1958) ........................................................ 26
Laban as Artist/Researcher ...................................................... 29
Chapter 2 The Artist/Researcher at Work ................................................ 37
Tracing a Research Career ........................................................... 37
Reconstructing a Research Methodology .................................... 39
Labans Artwork ........................................................................... 42
Making Art and Theorizing Dance .............................................. 55
Chapter 3 Visual Representation of Movement:
Tradition and Innovation .......................................................... 61
Representing Movement .............................................................. 61
Proportional Theories and Figure Drawing ................................. 63
Use of the Traditional Canon in Labans Figure Drawings ......... 70
The Impact of Instantaneous Photography .................................. 73
From Photograph to Mental Image: Bergsons
Philosophy of Movement ....................................................... 81
Bergsonian Reverberations in Labans Choreutic
Theory and Notation .............................................................. 84

vi
Space, Time, and Proportional Theory in Labans Combination
Drawings ................................................................................ 86
Art Nouveau and the Modernization of Form ............................. 90
Empathy, Expression, and Abstraction ........................................ 93
The Modernization of Form and Expression in Dance ............... 96
Chapter 4 Space: The Outer Domain of Human Movement ................ 109
The Dancer Moves from Place to Place .................................... 109
Geographies of the Kinesphere .................................................. 110
Lines of Motion and Their Characteristics ................................ 121
Why Laban Preferred the Icosahedron ...................................... 126
From Line to Line Complex: Theorizing
Movement Sequences .......................................................... 131
Refining Labans Scheme .......................................................... 135
Summary: Taxonomy of Space ................................................. 140
Chapter 5 Effort: The Inner Domain of Human Movement ................ 147
The Dancer Moves from Mood to Mood .................................. 147
Evolving a Theory of Movement Dynamics .............................. 147
Elements of Effort: The Four Motion Factors .......................... 150
The Dynamosphere ................................................................. 155
Landscapes of the Dynamosphere ............................................. 159
Patterns of Effort Change .......................................................... 169
Connecting Mood and Place ...................................................... 171
The Law of Proximity ............................................................ 176
Summary: Taxonomy of Effort .................................................. 178
Chapter 6 On Harmony ............................................................................ 187
Analysis, Synthesis, and the Essence of Movement .................. 187
Harmony as an Analogic Metaphor ........................................... 188
Ratio and Proportion .................................................................. 190
Balance ....................................................................................... 195
Symmetry ................................................................................... 197
Unity of Form ............................................................................. 201
Interrelationship of Elements ..................................................... 204
Individuality ............................................................................... 207
Hidden Harmonies: An Interlude .............................................. 207
A Working Definition of Movement Harmony .......................... 213

vii
Chapter 7 Tone, Scale, Interval, and Transposition .............................. 219
Chronological Development ...................................................... 219
Choreutic Forms in the Oral Tradition ...................................... 221
Balanced Symmetry and Order in Choreutic Forms .................. 222
The Standard Scale and the Chromatic Scale ............................ 231
Empirical Correspondences: The Standard Scale and
Range of Motion .................................................................. 237
Harmonic Correspondences in the Standard Scale .................... 238
Mixed Seven-Rings and the Diatonic Scales ............................. 244
Transposition .............................................................................. 248
Harmony of Spatial Forms ......................................................... 255
Chapter 8 Modulation and Harmonic Phrasing .................................... 263
Musical Modulation and the Law of Proximity ......................... 263
Modeling Harmonic Phrasing for Other States and Drives ....... 271
Stability and Mobility in Effort Phrasing .................................. 273
Exploring Other Models of the Dynamosphere ......................... 280
Labans Vision of Dynamic Space ............................................. 282
Chapter 9 The Harmonic Unity of Form and Energy ............................ 287
Existing Theory of Effort/Space Affinities ................................ 288
Steps in the Emergent Theoretical Process ................................ 291
Mature Theory of Effort/Shape Affinities ................................. 293
A Shift in Perspective ................................................................ 296
Reconsidering the Theory of Movement Harmony ................... 302
Future Horizons ......................................................................... 305
Bibliography ............................................................................................. 311
Index ............................................................................................................ 321

Original Artworks by Rudolf Laban

[Note: Artworks are identified by the classification system used by the Rudolf
Laban Archive, Rudolf Laban Archive, National Resource Centre for
Dance. Used with permission.]
Figures
Figures 2-1, 3-2. Anatomical study. L/C/3/14
Figures 2-2, 3-3. Figure study. L/C/3/20
Figures 2-3, 3-4. Figure study variation. L/C/3/18
Figures 2-4, 6-3. Icosahedron and octahedron. L/C/2/119
Figure 2-5. Truncated octahedron. L/C/2/128
Figures 2-6, 8-3. Effort pattern diagram. L/E/53/2
Figures 2-7, 7-31. Octahedron being stretched. L/E/17/16
Figures 2-8, 7-34. Twisted band in hypercube. L/E/12/26
Figure 2-9. Variations of pentagon. L/C/1/87
Figure 2-10. Pentagonal poses. L/C/1/88
Figure 2-11. Dancers in icosahedron. L/C/6/100
Figure 2-12. Architectural sketches. L/C/1/2
Figure 2-13. Caricature. L/C/9/114
Figure 4-15. Directions in kinesphere. L/E/14/54
Figure 4-16. Center, body and kinesphere. L/C/4/7
Figure 4-21. Polygonal trace-form. L/C/5/86
Figure 6-2. Trace-form and figure in dodecahedron. L/C/5/128
Figure 7-32, 9-7. Klein bottle and multi-dimensional forms. L/E/14/34
Figure 7-33. Trefoil knot in tetrahedron. L/E/15/36
Figure 8-2. Working notes, effort modulation. L/E/6/62
Figure 8-8. Proximity model, effort states and drives. L/E/17/48
Figure 9-8. Weight/space shape. L/E/18/62.

x
Colored Plates and Photographs
Cover art. Figure in tetrahedral pose. L/C/6/56
Plate A. Superimposed octahedra. L/E/10/16
Plate B. Circuits in icosahedra and dodecahedron. (no reference number)
Plate C. Manipulations of pentagons and heptagons. L/E/38/29
Plate D. Pentagonal shapes and poses. L/C/1/87, L/C/1/88
Plate E. Tetrahedral pose. L/C/6/56
Plate F. Unfolding movement in crystals. L/C/7/152
Plate G. Sculptural version of trace-form. L/F/7/68
Plate H. Lemniscatic sculpture. L/F/7/84
Plate I. Seascape. L/C/9/65
Plate J. Crayon portrait. L/C/9/1
Plate K. Figure surrounded by angular trace-form. L/C/5/86
Plate L. Trace-form as biomorphic curves. L/C/6/24
Plate M. Figures in icosahedron. L/C/4/7
Plate N. Cube, dodecahedron, and icosahedron. L/C/4/5
Plate O. Octahedron, tetrahedra, and cube. L/E/4/72
Plate P. Musical tones and signal points of A scale. L/E/4/72
Plate Q. Topological manipulation of octahedron. L/E/17/16
Plate R. Hypercube and effort affinities. L/E/7/35
Plate S. Flow shape. L/C/1/32
Plate T. Time shape. L/C/1/31
Plate U. Space shape. L/C/1/33
Plate V. Weight shape. L/C/1/21

xi

Preface
Rudolf Labans work has been highly significant in the development
of analytical structures across a number of movement-based disciplines
in the twentieth century, from acting, dancing and therapy to work place
behaviour. It has been much referred to, with greater or lesser degrees of
accuracy and understanding. The interpretation of his ideas has, however,
been fraught with problems partly because of his re-location from
Central Europe to England in 1938. As with other artists and scholars
who emigrated prior to the Second World War, Labans artistic practices
lost their context, his papers were dispersed among various personal
collections and a few archives, and his written materials needed
translation.
The spread of Labans ideas across continents as far apart as
Australasia and the Americas, again a common diasporic process in the
pre-war years, also led to its fragmentation. Groups in different countries
chose to emphasise specific parts of his work and used it in diverse
contexts. In consequence, this breadth of application, compounded by
the depth and range of his theorisation in itself, made it difficult for anyone
else to construct a coherent account of the body of his work a task he
never completed himself. The enthusiastic development of isolated areas
of his work by others, largely practitioners, whether in the theatre, or in
industry, or in therapy and education, can be seen to have led to a loss of
coherence. It was perhaps inevitable that his thinking would be distorted
in the process, since it was very much a work-in-progress, only partially
developed at that time. Moores re-visiting shows how partial previous
understandings were.
Scholarship to date is scant, focussed on education and therapy, and
bordering at times on the mystical. A degree of historical and cultural
distance is in fact very useful in allowing us to re-position Laban, since
reflecting on his significance would have been extraordinarily difficult
in the mid-twentieth century. So, while his ideas have inspired movement
practitioners in many domains and across many countries over more than
half a century, we have had to wait for a thoroughgoing assessment of his

xii

theory of movement harmony, not just for time to elapse, but also for a
practitioner/theorist such as Carol-Lynne Moore to emerge, whose special
strengths and knowledge, combined with persistence and long, long
familiarity with the material have been vital for the insightful development
found in this book.
Labans original writings themselves, as Moore shows, have often
been characterised as somewhat obscure, not just from being written in
German, but in their content and mode of representation, just as his
drawings needed to be seen in the light of then-current biological insights
as well as the concerns of the visual arts. The density of his material, a
word Moore rightly uses, is a real challenge for the reader and, combined
with the extraordinary complexity and inter-related character of his ideas,
has halted many previous attempts at interpretation. While recognising
the diverse and difficult nature of his exploration, Carol-Lynne Moore
brilliantly explicates and pursues his lines of argument with great
sympathy and clarity.
The theory of movement harmony was perhaps one of the most
problematic of his pursuits, requiring knowledge from philosophy,
physiology, mathematics and the visual arts as well as deep understanding
of movement and an intellectual agility not often found in movement
scholarship. In bringing this book to fruition, Moore successfully
negotiates multiple threads of argument, each extensively expounded, to
interweave critical concepts with clarity in this interpretive exercise.
Labans own ingenuity is matched by hers, and, with the empathy that is
equivalent to completing a symphony only sketched by a composer, she
moves beyond his less explicit statements into new territory. She does
more than justice to Labans materials, getting inside his work and
bringing it to new life in a manner appropriate to our present time.
This book reinvigorates Laban scholarship, showing how movement
and mind, body and soul, emotion and concept, are one, entwined,
inseparable. This deeply difficult task, given the binary nature of language,
is successfully achieved. It bears similarity to dance making of the present
time. Just as current choreographers re-visit, for example, the themes of
Swan Lake, and we see them anew, re-worked, so Carol-Lynne Moore
challenges tendencies to value Labans notation system and taxonomic

xiii

analysis solely as technical tools, and focuses instead on his notions of

the coherence of movement, its elements integrated in meaningful human
acts. Its implications and applications will support the growth of the
discipline for years to come. This articulation and further development
of Labans beautiful but analogic theory of movement harmony makes
a unique, original, and impressive contribution to scholarship.
Janet Lansdale
Emeritus Professor,
Dance Studies
University of Surrey
England

xv

Acknowledgments
My thanks go first to the British Arts and Humanities Research Board
(AHRB) for funding the two-year research fellowship that made this book
possible. Generous support from the AHRB allowed me to extend the
breadth and depth of my archival research on Rudolf Labans unpublished theoretical materials. I also want to thank the Department of Dance
Studies at the University of Surrey for serving as host institution. Staff
and faculty were welcoming and helpful without exception. Particular
thanks go to Professor Emeritus June Layson, who generously shared her
own experiences with Laban and also graciously served as a sounding
board for discoveries as the research unfolded.
The study could not have been completed without the dedicated involvement of the staff of the National Resource Centre for Dance at the
University of Surrey. Special thanks to Chris Jones, chief archivist, and
Helen Roberts, director, for their expertise, generous assistance, and good
willnot to mention the occasional cup of tea when spirits flagged.
Production of this book was facilitated by the Herculean efforts of
Vivian Heggie, typesetter extraordinaire, who adroitly found a way to
integrate Labans drawings with my text and translate roughly sketched
diagrams into camera-ready illustrations. My husband, Kaoru Yamamoto,
has not only steadfastly driven our children to school for weeks on end so
that I had time to write, but also provided invaluable editorial support
and encouragement.
Finally, I would like to acknowledge my teacher, Irmgard Bartenieff
(1900-1981). Bartenieff worked with Laban in Germany in the 1920s,
but with the rise of National Socialism, she and her family immigrated to
the United States. During the final 15 years of her life, Bartenieff introduced a generation of young Americans to Labans ideas, not as received
wisdom from the past but as theory belonging to the future. Through her
life work and, indeed, her very being, she conveyed a sense of the immense potential of movement study. Credit for the hopeful subtext in this
study goes to Irmgard.

Introduction
Rudolf Laban (1879-1958) is identified by various encyclopedists
and historians as the multifaceted dance theorist whose studies of human
movement not only provided the intellectual foundations for the
development of central European modern dance but also unquestionably
affected the tradition of classical theatrical dancing.1
While Labans reputation remains closely associated with the
discipline of dance, he is an anomaly in the field for several reasons.
Only a third of Labans career, the period bracketed by the two world
wars, was focused single-mindedly on dance. During the first two decades
of his professional life (1899-1919), Laban trained and worked as a visual
artist. During the final two decades of his career (1939-1958), Laban
applied theory developed from dance studies to a variety of novel fields
beyond dance. Unlike most significant figures in dance history, Laban is
not remembered as a great performer or choreographer. In this most
physical of arts, Labans contributions are almost entirely intellectual.
Today Laban is recognized primarily for two accomplishments. The
first is his notation system, which allows dance works of varying genres
to be recorded and reconstructed from a written score. The second is the
taxonomy of human movement that provides conceptual underpinnings
for the notation system by delineating elements of movement that must
be recorded. Both notation and Labans taxonomy provide the means for
breaking a stream of bodily action into component parts, either for
purposes of documentation or for study. Consequently, Labans name
has become synonymous with movement analysis.
However, analysis was only part of Labans project, for he was also
concerned with delineating how the various elements of movement cohere
in meaningful human acts. To date, the integrative aspects of Labans
theoretical explorations have received little scholarly attention. This book
aims to redress this imbalance through discussion of Labans final
intellectual achievement his theory of movement harmony.

Tracing a Theory: Research Materials and Methods

The material in this book was developed from my doctoral and postdoctoral research conducted at the University of Surrey between 1994
and 2002.2 This research was motivated initially by a desire to trace the
ideational bases of Laban theory and by so doing to locate Laban more
precisely in streams of twentieth century thought and culture. The sheer
variety of his activities suggested that there were many different prisms
for understanding Laban. Temporal shifts in his professional interests
added another layer of complexity to his work; chameleon-like, Laban
appeared to change his colors depending upon the period under
investigation. And though a tireless champion of dance documentation,
his own work paradoxically had been documented haphazardly. As a
consequence, situating Labans ideas historically, culturally, and
aesthetically was neither straightforward nor obvious.
In the beginning, biographical research was combined with study of
the historical and cultural contexts of Labans life. On the assumption
that the foundations of Labans thinking were most likely to be found in
his youth and early career, initial study concentrated on the early decades
of Labans life: the period from 1879 through 1919, that is, from Labans
birth to his emergence as a public figure in the dance when he was 40
years old. Focusing on Labans early life meant looking at his somewhat
undistinguished career as a visual artist. Documentation of Labans artistic
activities was limited, and I had to work inferentially from existing traces.
These indicated that Laban had been close to significant figures and events
in emerging modern art movements, notably Jugendstil, Art Nouveau,
abstract Expressionism, and Dada. Curious about the nature of Labans
own artwork, I casually asked to see the drawings in the Rudolf Laban
Archive, a vast collection of materials from the final two decades of
Labans life that is held by the National Resource Centre for Dance
(NRCD) at the University of Surrey, England.
What I found as a result of this simple query marked a turning point
in the initial study. I had accepted the given wisdom that Laban gave up
art sometime around 1913, when he began to find his true vocation in the
dance.3 Hundreds of drawings, however, were to be found among archival
papers dating from 1938-1958, the final years of Labans career. The

subject matter of the majority of these drawings geometrical shapes,

dancing human figures, dancers inside geometrical forms seemed to
explore ideas about motion, form, and space. Discovery of this cache of
visual material indicated that, while Laban gave up art as a profession,
he continued to draw upon his artistic skills to model ideas about dance.
The uncovering of this archival material provided a thematic center
and angle of approach for the study as it unfolded. First of all, many
hours were spent studying Labans drawings in what may be characterized
as a hermeneutic approach. Hermeneutic interpretation involves a mobile,
somewhat intuitive process in which various relationships of part to whole,
or of the interpreter to the tradition from which a text or artifact speaks,
are juxtaposed until a congruence can be sensed. I was deeply familiar
with Labans ideas from my work as a dancer. In studying Labans
drawings, I assumed that he was modeling these ideas visually and that
by looking at the drawings I would be able to apprehend the concepts
they represented.
The hermeneutic penetration of Labans drawings also pointed
towards areas of knowledge upon which he might have drawn. My method
was to pursue these pointers, reading as much as possible about subject
areas such as human anatomy for artists, proportional techniques,
photographic studies of human movement, and modernist art theory and
aesthetics. In this way various arenas of information were circled,
multiplying and deepening angles of understanding until distinct
connections to Labans work could be made through a process of
contextualization. Contextualization allows the historian to confront
what looks like a largely unconnected mass of material and then to
show that sense can be made of it by revealing certain pervasive themes
or developments.4 Such contextual juxtapositions for revelatory and
explanatory purposes are in essence narrative structures.5 Thus, the inital
study employed hermeneutic and contextual methodologies to construct
an intellectual history with reference to unpublished drawings in the
Rudolf Laban Archive. This history focused on Labans choreutic
concepts, the taxonomical elements and harmonic principles that govern
movement forms in the dancers space.
A post-doctoral fellowship funded by the British Arts and Humanities

Research Board allowed me to extend the initial study in two ways. First,
I was able to examine archival materials dealing with Labans eukinetic
concepts, the taxonomical elements and harmonic principles that govern
the rhythmic patterning of energy in dance. Secondly, the fellowship
provided time for extended study of unpublished writings on Choreutics
and Eukinetics in the Archive. Two things came to light as a result. First,
I found that there were just as many drawings tucked away among the
files on Eukinetics as there had been in the Choreutics files. The use of
figure drawing and geometrical forms in relation to the study of movement
forms in space was readily understandable. Labans use of a similar
technique to model theories about kinetic energy was unexpected, but
this discovery revealed that Laban utilized consistent procedures for
modeling both domains of his movement taxonomy.
While drawing in general was central to Labans method of
constructing dance theory, over time I began to detect significant
differences in the way Laban visually modeled the choreutic and eukinetic
domains. He seemed to prefer particular three-dimensional forms for
modeling movement in space. In this case, the choreutic models seemed
to be literal to represent actual movement trajectories. However, Laban
employed a different set of three-dimensional forms when he modeled
Eukinetics. In this case, the forms chosen appeared to be figurative rather
than literal, explorations of formal relations rather than depictions of
movement pathways. This distinction was a first breakthrough to
understanding how Laban constructed his ideas of the harmonic relations
of energy and spatial form.
As I slowly worked my way through file after file, most filled with
fragments of writing and arcane drawings, I kept glimpsing Labans
attempts to connect separate strands of his theoretical work. I could
perceive the direction the work was tending but only in shadowy form,
never fully crystallized. This was due in part to the way in which the
Archive has been organized. There are overlapping subject categories.
This ambiguity, coupled with the fact that several different people sorted
materials over a period of years, means that materials exploring a common
idea are often filed under different subject headings. By methodically
examining all seemingly relevant categories, I eventually located the

rosetta stone documents, and Labans mature theory of harmony

emerged from the shadows and became comprehensible and coherent.
A Beautiful Theory Movement Harmony
This book, based upon the first comprehensive examination of
unpublished materials in the Rudolf Laban Archive, integrates Labans
final theoretical explorations with earlier and better known work centered
in the discipline of dance and focused on movement analysis. The book
takes as its theme Labans observation that human movement has a
harmonic structure analogous to that of music. This theme guided Labans
research activities in dance, seemingly from the very beginning, and he
attempted over and over again to articulate his perspective. Of all Labans
ideas, that of movement harmony has received the harshest treatment at
the hands of both friends and foes. The idea has, in short, simply been
written off as a fuzzy figure of speech, a by-product of Labans mystical
world-view, a utopian fantasy in which dance is seen to carry metaphysical
significance and magical power.
On the basis of my years of research, I have come to believe that
Laban was not employing the term harmony in a fuzzy way, to refer to
pleasing or attractive aspects of movement or to promote his mystical
views. Rather, Laban employs the term harmony as an analogic
metaphor. Through this controlled comparison, Laban aims to get at the
deep structure of movement, elucidating the means through which
distinctively different elements of movement cohere in meaningful
actions.
At its base, Labans theory of movement harmony is beautifully
simple. Like all truly elegant and abstract theories, however, it is devilishly
difficult to explain. Consequently, discussion of the theory of movement
harmony is developed in three parts. The first part, Chapters 1, 2, and 3,
examines technical and conceptual links between Labans first career as
a visual artist and his subsequent vocation as a dance theorist. This
examination recapitulates Labans career, situating his artwork and dance
theory in a network of late nineteenth and early twentieth century ideas.
The second part of the book, Chapters 4 and 5, deals with Labans
taxonomy of human movement. While this analytic framework has been

articulated in Labans own writings as well as in many other sources,

familiarity with the component parts of his movement analysis system is
necessary to follow the subsequent discussion of Labans theory of
harmony.
The final section of the book extends the analogic metaphor of
movement harmony. Chapter 6 provides an overview of Labans notions
of the elements of movement harmony. This is followed in Chapters 7, 8,
and 9 by elaboration of specific harmonic constructs such as interval,
scale, modulation, transposition, and harmonic relationships. While the
ideas belong to Laban, the articulation of these harmonic constructs is
my own. There is, I believe, sufficient substance to Labans theory to
merit this effort at articulation.
That being said, no theory ever provides a perfect explanation for a
material phenomenon or an actual experience. Each theory is always an
imaginary excursion, from the known to the unknown. While Labans
theory of harmony has the potential to extend understanding of the
coherent nature of human movement, it will not fit in all particulars.
Where it is found not to fit, new theory can be generated. It is by these
means that knowledge is advanced in any field; dance and movement
studies should not be exceptions. Thus Chapter 9 also provides a critical
reflection on future directions for research.
When Laban abandoned a career in art in 1913, dance was an ahistorical and a-theoretical discipline by necessity. Since that time a great
deal has been done to alter these deficiencies. Nevertheless, the role that
theory can play in enhancing practical and creative movement activity is
not fully recognized, even today. Dance and movement studies will never
achieve their disciplinary potentials and be recognized as constituting
legitimate bodies of knowledge until theoretical bases are better
articulated. It is in the interest of furthering these fields that Labans
theory of movement harmony is presented here.

Notes
1. Characterizations of Laban cited are drawn from, respectively, the
entries on Rudolf Laban in the International Encyclopedia of Dance,
Encyclopedia Britannica, and Lincoln Kirsteins seminal Dance, 303.
2. Moore, Choreutic Theory of Rudolf Laban.
3. This is the perspective taken by the British biographer, PrestonDunlop, in her Rudolf Laban.
4. Walsh, cited in Berkhofer, Challenge of Poetics, 142.
5. Barthes, Discourse of History.

CHAPTER 1

Labans Journey: Art, Dance, and Beyond

Art and Dance: A Study in Contrast
In 1913, a 34-year-old Hungarian painter named Rudolf Laban (18791958) declared that he was giving up art to pursue a career in dance. By
becoming a dancer, Laban confessed that he seemed to have set his heart
on the most despised profession in the world.1 Indeed, the contrasts
between the artistic discipline he was leaving and the one he wished to
enter could not have been more obvious at the time.
In the early years of the twentieth century, the visual arts in Europe
were not only exciting and innovative disciplines, but also prestigious
and well-established ones, rich in history, literature, and theory. Dance,
on the other hand, was the perennial poor relation. Masterworks of
painting, sculpture, and architecture outlived their creators and could
continue to be viewed, appreciated, analyzed, and copied, while dance
existed only for the moment and then disappeared without a trace.
Libraries were full of writings about art, for a dense body of theory had
been developed over the course of several hundred years, addressing
fundamental elements such as proportion, perspective, composition, color,
and form. In contrast, little had been written about the history of dance,
and there was no substantial body of theory addressing the fundaments
of human movement. Dance seemed to be condemned by its ephemeral
nature to remain an insignificant art, even a disreputable one. Laban
intended to alter these despicable conditions.
Over the next twenty-five years, working in Germany and other parts
of Europe, Laban labored incessantly to establish disciplinary foundations
for the ephemeral art of movement. He developed a notation system that
allowed choreographies of different genres to be recorded and re-staged.
He wrote and published books about dance. He performed and
choreographed. He organized professional dance conferences, and
encouraged amateur dance for recreative purposes, often on a large scale.
By the early 1930s, dance was becoming a modern art at last, and Laban

10

was a leading figure in the European dance avant-garde.

However, economic and political problems in Europe effectively
ended Labans dance career. Like many other modernists involved in the
artistic diaspora of the late 1930s, Laban left Germany, and immigrated,
first to France, and then to England. When he arrived in Britain, he was
nearly 60 years of age, ailing and depressed. With the start of the Second
World War, there was little demand for aging dancers, and he was
compelled to find another professional outlet for his expertise. Initially
he applied his understanding of movement to efficiency studies of manual
labor in factories, training women to take on jobs formerly done by the
men. After the war, he became involved in other projects: he taught stage
movement to actors, supported efforts to embed dance in the national
educational curriculum, and explored the use of movement in
psychotherapy. Throughout these activities, he continued to write, to teach,
and to theorize. In these final years of his life, it was not merely dance
that occupied Labans thoughts, but human movement in general.
As Reynolds and McCormick note, Labans expansive intellect and
curiosity would have marked him as unusual in any field, but in dance,
where imagination and pragmatism rarely combine in one individual, he
was unique.2 In a life devoted to the study of human movement as a
psychophysical phenomenon, Labans initial involvement in visual art
seems to be an episode of minor importance in a lifetime of more
significant accomplishment. Yet the thousands of drawings Laban has
left behind stand in silent testimony to his continued involvement in art
as a means for theorizing dance. Consequently, this chapter examines
Labans journey from art to dance, outlining biographical data that
contributed to the development of his theories and tracing his career
trajectory.
Labans Early Years (1879-1899)
Laban was born into a bourgeois Catholic family in Bratislava, a
minor municipality in the Austro-Hungarian Empire near Vienna. Even
today, more than a century later, the historic center of Bratislava retains
an old world charm evocative of Labans youth. A fairy tale castle sits on
a hill overlooking the Danube, corners in the old center are marked by

11

elegant Baroque churches and palaces, while pleasant courtyards open

suddenly in the maze of narrow streets. In Labans day, Bratislava was
quite multicultural despite its small size, with a mixed population of
German, Hungarian, Jewish, and Slovak inhabitants. In addition, the town
was large enough to have a Municipal Theatre where visiting companies
performed, as well as a Kunstverein, or artists guild, that held local
exhibitions.3
Ullmanns annotations to Labans autobiography, A Life for Dance,
report that Labans mother, the daughter of a physician, was a cultured
and progressive woman.4 Labans father, a career officer in the AustroHungarian military, had a more conservative orientation.5 With the fathers
eventual promotion to the rank of general, the Laban family became
ennobled and were allowed to add a von to their surname. References
in Labans autobiography to the family home overlooking the Danube, to
his grandparents music room and vineyard, and to the servant available
to him when he visited his father at the latters posting in the Balkans
also suggest that the general economic circumstances of Labans youth
were comfortable. Indeed, his fathers military promotions brought the
family close to the Viennese court and imperial culture, with all the
attached social responsibilities and privileges.
Little is known definitively about Labans early education beyond
the fact that he was not a docile pupil.6 A few scattered references in
Labans own writings must suffice as suggestions of formative influences
during these decades. Among these influences, experiences with theatre,
visual art, and the military are outstanding.
Theatre. Labans autobiography suggests that he was a fanciful and
imaginative boy and that his fantasies had a strongly theatrical element.
Labans boyish dramatic impulses were further reinforced by his extended
family. One favorite uncle, Adolf Mylius, became a prominent actor in
Germany. Another uncle with whom Laban spent a lot of time was Antoine
Sendlein, city architect of Bratislava. Because his uncles responsibilities
included making contracts with visiting theatrical companies, Laban
reports becoming familiar with the theatre from the flies to the pits.7
Although his family rationed his attendance at performances, fearing it
would cause his imagination to run riot, Labans autobiography indicates

12

that he was able to see many operas, operettas, dramas, folk-plays, and
circuses.
Scenic design should also be mentioned as another youthful interest
linking Laban to the theatre. He became friends with the son of the scene
decoration painter, Otto Winterstein, often visiting his studio.8 This painter
was sometimes called upon to decorate halls for festivities and Laban
became his assistant in these enterprises. Moreover, when the old painter
died, his son took over scene-painting duties and also called upon Labans
help. An on-going partnership apparently resulted.
Visual Art. Scenic decoration was not the only type of art that figured
prominently in his youth. By his own accounts, the artistically inclined
Laban was befriended by a local painter, whom Vojtek identifies as Eduard
Majsch.9 In his autobiography, Laban writes that Majsch, was the first
person to whom I confessed my intention of becoming an artist. The
painter took Laban firmly in hand and forced the somewhat
undisciplined youth to learn real craftsmanship.10 By age sixteen, Laban
recalls, I counted as quite a reputable painter.11 As a student of Majsch,
the youthful Laban was able to exhibit his paintings in Bratislava. Laban
notes that at this time, awareness of movement existed only in my subconscious and was strongly linked with the pictorial. It needed a special
occasion to open my eyes to the fact that in the moving picture lies
hidden a tremendously enhanced expression of human will and feeling.12
The particular occasion which released this awareness again came
through Majsch. In 1897, a provincial ruler was due to visit Bratislava
for the unveiling of a monument. As part of the festivities, the old painter
was asked to design not only triumphal arches but also tableaux vivants,
which were to be performed as part of the festivities in the Municipal
Theatre. At one rehearsal when the painter was absent, Laban tried out
his own ideas. Rather than having the group remain motionless throughout
the festivities, Laban directed them to strike a new pose with each new
phrase of musical accompaniment. This innovation found favor with
Majsch, to Labans delight. The experience opened a completely new
field of activity. Laban recalls that I designed hundreds of these
sequences and gradually they developed into real group-dance scenes.13
The Military. If an awareness of movement came to Laban only

13

gradually through painting, its role in martial maneuvers was much more
obvious. When Laban visited his father in the Balkans, he took part in
training in fencing, shooting, riding and other forms of sport and combat.
He was also able to observe battalion exercises, corps maneuvers, and
actual skirmishes. Horses panted, soldier surged forward and gun
carriages bumped over the field. It was as if everyone was flying and
tearing about in wonderful designs, he recalled. Laban admits to being
justifiably proud of his fathers role as the commanding officer and
deriving pleasure, not only from his own physical exertions but also from
the splendid display of movement in parades and formal marching
processionals. Indeed, Laban later acknowledged that the life of a soldier
fascinated him almost as much as the arts.14
His fathers posting to various parts of the multi-national AustroHungarian Empire also provided contacts with different cultural groups.
In particular, the time spent as an adolescent in Bosnia and Herzegovina
appears to have made a lasting impression on Laban. Through his tutor,
a Muslim Imam, Laban gained access to the Sufi sects in the area,
witnessing their ecstatic dance rituals: I saw to my astonishment
dervishes, in a state of high ecstasy, driving long needles and nails through
their cheeks, and through their chests and their arm muscles, without
showing any sign of pain, or even more important, without losing a drop
of blood. Afterwards there was no trace of a wound. 15 Laban appears to
have been deeply affected by these rituals, for he was later to remark,
Were the dervishes really immune to cuts? Could dancing really have
such a power over man? Belief in a magic that conquers nature was surely
just foolishness, a childish superstition but even so, wasnt there
something great, something immense hidden behind it?16
Despite his interest in arcane and artistic matters, in 1899 Laban
entered an Officers Training Academy near Vienna at the instigation of
his father. It would appear that the unhappy year spent there settled forever
the contest between the life of the soldier and the life of the artist. Labans
military career ended in 1900, never to be resumed despite the occurrence
of two World Wars. The life of the artist was the course that would be
followed from 1900 onwards.

14

A Life for Art (1900-1907)

Despite his familys misgivings, Laban secured a small allowance
and permission to pursue his interest in art. His first port of call was
Munich, a continental art center second only to Paris in the fin-de-sicle
world. Laban situated himself in Schwabing, the bohemian sector where
everyone painted or wrote poems, or made music, or took up
dancing.17 Here Laban quickly formed two important attachments. The
first was to Martha Fricke, a German art student, whom Laban married
shortly after arriving in Munich. The second was an acquaintance with
Jugendstil artist, Hermann Obrist. Little is known about how Laban made
these connections. What can be surmised is that Laban established a
personal circle in which making and discussing art were paramount.
The art of the moment was Jugendstil, a local manifestation of the
much broader international movement known as Art Nouveau.
Retrospectively, this self-proclaimed new art can be seen as an important
link in the shift from representational art, whose traditions were
promulgated by the great European art academies, to non-representational
art, which emerged from the various iconoclastic movements of the early
20th century. In the fin-de-sicle period, Munich was a particularly
important center of the Art Nouveau movement because developments
taking place in German aesthetics and psychological studies overlapped
with innovations in the fine and applied arts, making for a heady mixture
of theory and practice.18 The visionary Obrist was a pivotal person in the
Munich art community, not only due to the attention that his own work
attracted, but also because of his extensive public lecture activities and
reputation as an inspirational teacher.19 It is not known if Laban and his
wife actually studied with Obrist. Even peripheral involvement in his
circle, however, would have given them access to some of the most
advanced thinking about art at this time.
In any case, Laban and his wife did not linger in Munich for long.
Late in 1900, the year of the famous Universal Exposition, they moved
on to Paris to enroll in the cole des Beaux Arts. At this time, between
500-600 students were regularly registered in the cole, studying either
painting, sculpture, or architecture. Admission to the cole was by
competition, and advancement was likewise based on competition, the

15

most prestigious award being the Prix de Rome, which allowed its
recipients to study at the French academy in Rome. While classes and
theoretical lectures at the cole were free, the more practical side of the
arts was taught in the artists studio or the architects drawing office.
And so a system of ateliers, some commissioned by the Acadmie des
Beaux Arts, some independent, provided additional training for which
students paid.20
Labans own recountings of his educational background indicate that
he studied architecture and painting at the cole des Beaux Arts during
the period of 1900-1907. His biographer, however, has been unable to
find records of his enrollment, either at the cole or in one of the ateliers.
This may be because Laban failed to pass the competitive examination
for upper level classes, for only the names of the students in these classes
have been retained in the archives of the cole. Labans wife, however,
seemingly did pass and is recorded in 1903 as a student in the School of
Architecture, where course work included mathematics, geometry,
architectural history, analytical elements and perspective.21
One could, of course, learn much about architecture and art outside
the walls of the academy. Paris itself was an artists textbook. For those
of a conventional bent, the city was filled with historical architectural
masterpieces in various styles. Art Nouveau designers were also
modernizing the look of the city, from the Metro gates created by Hector
Guimard to the theatre built on the Paris Exposition grounds by Henri
Savage for Loie Fuller, the dancer whose abstract manipulation of fabric
and light seemed the very embodiment of Art Nouveau ornament.22
Historically significant paintings and sculpture were on view in the citys
many museums. Contemporary work was also readily accessible. For
academically acceptable painters, there was a well-established system
for exhibiting and selling work. Beyond the mainstream, more iconoclastic
artists developed their own exhibition opportunites through a number of
independent salons. Straddling these worlds, the gallery of Siegfried Bing,
LArt Nouveau, provided a venue where it was possible to see the newest
designs in furniture, fabric, lamps, wall coverings, and other decorative
arts.23
Surrounded by these riches, Laban eked out a living for his family

16

somehow, perhaps by selling caricatures, magazine illustrations, or

sidewalk portraits. In any case, this period was brought to a close in 1907
by the tragic early death of Labans wife. The two children of the union
were sent to be raised by their maternal grandparents, while Laban
apparently returned to his paternal home, seemingly passing into a phase
of inactivity about which little is known.
Concrete information about these first years of Labans artistic career
is frustratingly scarce.24 Surviving works shown in Chapter 2 and the
latter sections of this book demonstrate an understanding of human
anatomy, proportion, geometry, and rendering in perspective, indicating
that Laban received the rudiments of an academic art education. In addition
to familiarity with academic traditions of visual representation, Laban
was also immersed in the innovations of Art Nouveau through his contacts
in Munich and his surroundings in Paris. A few of Labans surviving
illustrations testify to his familiarity with stylistic features of Art
Nouveau.25 In the years leading up to World War I, however, this new
art was destined to be surpassed by the even greater innovations of
abstract Expressionism. And Laban, it would seem, was destined to be
back in Munich when this breakthrough occurred.
Transitional Years (1910-1912)
In 1910, through contacts within his family circle, Laban met and
married Maja Lederer, a singer. After the wedding in Bratislava, the couple
moved to Munich, settling down in Schwabing. This bohemian community
once again proved important for Laban, enabling him to inform himself
of a wide range of current artistic philosophies and offering a fertile ground
in which he could try out his emergent ideas in a practical way.26 The
Labans immersed themselves in the artistic whirl of the district, cobbling
together a livelihood of sorts. Maja taught singing while Laban himself
worked freelance as an illustrator and caricaturist. As children began to
arrive the Labans were often in debt. Yet, they regularly attended
performances throughout the years 1910-1914.27 Given Labans career,
presumably they also attended important exhibitions and other art events.
As it so happened, the art scene in Munich at this time was quite
lively, due to the emergence of the Blaue Reiter (Blue Rider) group. At

17

the heart of the Blaue Reiter were the painters Wassily Kandinsky and
Franz Marc. In 1911 the first Blaue Reiter group exhibition was held in
Munich, followed by the publication of Kandinskys theoretical treatise,
Concerning the Spiritual in Art.28 The year 1912 saw the second group
exhibition held in Munich and publication of Der Blaue Reiter Almanac,
edited by Kandinsky and Marc. This almanac combined an eclectic
collection of illustrations with writings on art, music, and theatre. Though
spontaneous in origin and fragmentary in shape, the Almanac outlined
a program of modern aesthetics and articulated principles of artistic
creativity that are still of current interest.29
Munich was also the site of creative revolutions in the performing
arts. The Munich Artists Theatre, under the visionary direction of Georg
Fuchs, had opened in 1908. With its advanced lighting system, unique
proscenium, and Jugendstil decoration, it was the most modern theatre
in Germany. Productions by local writers and musicians were encouraged,
while the whole thrust of the theatres program was oriented toward a
nonnaturalistic symbolic theatre.30 Spiritual art, it would seem, was
in the air, for Munich also saw the premiers of Rudolf Steiners cycle of
four Mystery Plays, beginning in 1910.31 Development of Steiners
esoteric movement art, Eurythmy, also began during this period, with a
premier performance being given in conjunction with a gathering of the
Theosophical Society in Munich in 1913.32 Meanwhile, cabaret performers
and playwrights such as Frank Wedekind explored the satirical and
profane, pushing the limits of what were considered to be socially
acceptable topics for stage portrayal.33
These sacred and profane currents came together in the traditional
carnival festivities preceding Lent. As a way to make money during the
winters of 1911-1913, Laban became involved in staging entertainments
for various carnival balls, designing sets and costumes and recruiting
amateur performers. From Labans descriptions in his autobiography, these
were colossal productions involving hundreds of people. While he
complains of the workload, the experience of directing such festivities
seems to mark the start of a transition in his professional direction.
Sometime in 1912, Laban packed away his paintings to make room for
movement classes in his studio, gathering a small group of students. These

18

students presumably became his assistants in staging carnival

entertainments, helping to train the amateur performers and stepping in
for the more demanding dance parts. Labans dance inventions were soon
so enthusiastically received, he claimed, that no festivals took place at
which we were not present with our dances and other artistic
contributions.34
Despite these successes, Laban appears to have been dissatisfied with
the trivial character of the work and the carnivalesque atmosphere in
which it evolved. For the first time, he writes, I became aware of my
responsibility for this group of people who put their trust in me.35 Laban
wanted to see festive moments filled with a spiritual attitude. He
longed for his dancers to be able to get out of town: Alongside the arts
they must do a healthy job, preferably farming, gardening or something
of that kind, for in both form and content the artistic work must grow out
of the community in which I should like to bring them together.36
Experimentation and Turmoil (1913-1919)
In search of a more suitable environment for his work, Laban visited
Monte Verita in the spring of 1913. Situated in the southern Swiss
town of Ascona, on the Lago Maggiore, Monte Verita had been founded
in the early years of the 20th century by a wealthy group of disaffected
intellectuals. The area had subsequently established itself as a center for
experimental living according to artistic, spiritual, and anarchistic
principles. 37 Laban secured permission to start a School for the Arts
from Henri Oedenkoven, one of the colonys founders; and arrangements
were made for his family and ad hoc group of students and faculty to
assemble for the summer season.
Schwabing was bohemian, but Monte Verita was even more
iconoclastic. Its counterculture stance attracted spiritual and political
rebels.38 For Laban, it provided a rustic yet stimulating environment for
experimentation. Having recruited a friend to teach painting, Laban was
free to pursue his original ideas about dance. On the theoretical level,
Laban began his Herculean labors to develop a notation system for
recording choreographies. He also started to frame his harmonic theories.
These explorations were supported by practical movement classes with

19

the students who began to gather around him.

Two of the earliest students, Suzanne Perrottet and Mary Wigman,
are of particular importance. Perrottet had been the protg of mile
Jaques-Dalcroze, the Swiss music professor who developed a movement
pedagogy for musicians known as Eurhythmics.39 By 1910, Dalcroze had
also established an institute in the planned garden community of Hellerau,
outside Dresden, which combined training in Eurhythmics with theatrical
productions. These music and movement performances, with sets created
by the revolutionary Swiss scenographer, Adolphe Appia, attracted the
attention of avant-garde theatre artists from all parts of Europe. But it
was Dalcrozes pedagogical work, rather than his theatrical creations,
that was significant for Laban. Dalcroze had developed a rudimentary
system of movement analysis; Perrottets familiarity with this material
allowed Laban to have a direct model against which his own ideas could
be seen.40 Other points of contact were no doubt provided by the
subsequent enrollment of Mary Wigman, another Dalcroze student.
Wigman became Labans star pupil. Her reminiscences provide a
picture of the early days of experimentation on the dance farm in
Ascona:
Open air, meadows surrounded by trees, a sunny beach and a
small group of rather queer people. How young we were! We
moved, we jumped, we ran, we improvised and outlined our first
simple solos and group sketches. . .
Laban, the painter and designer, showed us how to draw. In
invoking our imagination by his own vivid fantasy, his instruction
always turned into a lesson in improvisation, and as a final result
into dance.41
The outbreak of the First World War brought these halcyon days to
an end. Most students left immediately to return to their native countries;
only Perrottet and Wigman remained behind. The Laban family, including
Labans mother and sister, found themselves in difficulty. If they returned
to Bratislava, Laban would be drafted and sent to the front. Switzerland
offered a safe haven but no immediate means of making a living. With
few options, the group decided to stay in the nearly deserted Monte Verita

20

colony through winter. In this forced seclusion, Laban started to work

intensely on his dance notation, along with his theory of movement
harmony. Wigman recalled
I became the first victim to help prove his theoretical findings.
Each morning he knocked on the door of my room: Here comes
the choreographer! Laban stood there carrying an old-fashioned
valise stuffed full with drawings and notes This was his great
dream to be realized: an analysis of movement and the experiment
of translating it into signs He repeatedly designed, and rejected,
always starting again from the beginning
It was also hard work for me! Every movement had to be
done over and over again until it was controlled and could be
analyzed, transposed, and transformed into an adequate symbol.42
This hard work, however, did not resolve the groups financial
difficulties. With the idea of opening a school, Laban secured premises
in nearby Zurich and found a place to live for his mother, sister, wife,
children, and Suzanne Perrottet, who had become his mistress. Thus began
the period that Laban would later refer to as the nightmare years.43
Haunted by debt, recurrent bouts of ill-health and the possibility of
being forced to leave Switzerland, Laban struggled to attract students, to
present new choreographic work, and to develop his ideas. Meanwhile,
another new art movement was emerging in Zurich. Given a nonsensical
moniker, Dada erupted at the Cabaret Voltaire in 1916, the joint creation
of writers, performers, and artists Hugo Ball, Tristan Tzara, Richard
Huelsenbeck, Emmy Hennings, Marcel Janco, and Hans Arp. On the
narrow Spiegelgasse, down the street from where the Russian
revolutionary Lenin was living, there were art shows, instrumental
performances, singing, dancing, theatre, recitals, poetry readings. 44 All
activities aimed to stir the bourgeois out of their conventional
contentment.45
Laban found himself linked to the Dadaists through his student, Sophie
Tauber, a visual artist who had joined his group at Monte Verita in 1914.
Tauber in turn was linked to the Dadaists through her personal and
professional relationship with the Dada artist, Hans Arp. Through Tauber,

21

other female students of the Laban school found themselves drawn into
Dada events, performing at the Cabaret Voltaire and its successor, the
Corray Gallery, and forming romantic liaisons with the movements male
writers and artists. Labans attendance at Dada performances is clearly
documented, although he does not appear to have contributed personally
to the sometimes outrageous proceedings.46 Laban needed places for his
dancers to perform, however, and the Dada soirees appear to have provided
one such venue.
During these nightmare years in Zurich, Laban maintained his
contacts in nearby Ascona. These also led to choreographic ventures.
One such opportunity came about through Labans membership in the
Ordo Templi Orientis (OTO), an irregular Freemasons Lodge into which
Laban had been initiated in 1914.47 In the summer of 1917, the OTO,
under the guidance of Theodor Reuss, organized a Non-National
Conference that aimed to mobilize every kind of force subversive to
patriarchal and militaristic society.48 Labans contribution to this event
was an elaborate dance drama, Song to the Sun. Called an open-air
festival by Laban, this site-specific outdoor work was performed in three
sections, with the first section beginning at sunset, followed by a firelit
circle dance at midnight, and concluding with a celebratory ritual of
renewal at sunrise.49
Despite the fact that experimental works like Song to the Sun were
beginning to find an audience, Laban struggled through 1918 and 1919
to carry on his work while providing for his family and his dancers.
Eventually, the strain was too much. Laban became seriously ill during
the influenza epidemic, and his prolonged hospitalization had disastrous
results. He could not keep his school together or pay his bills. After years
of domestic instability, his wife Maja finally had enough. When the war
ended, she returned to Munich with their five children. Laban was left
alone, depressed, and in debt. Help finally came through Jo Meisenbach,
a student from the Munich days. Meisenbach remembered the drawings
that Laban had used to decorate his movement studio and arranged for
these to be displayed at a post-war exhibition in Nuremberg. Sale of
these drawings raised several thousand marks, enough cash to clear
some of Labans debts and get Laban back on his feet again.50

22

This final public exhibition marks the end of Labans professional

career as a visual artist. By October of 1919, Laban was able to leave
Switzerland, carrying the manuscript of his first book on movement, Die
Welt des Tnzers (The Dancers World). The transition from visual art to
dance, painfully navigated through the nightmare years of the war, was
nearing completion.
A Life for Dance (1920-1937)
The following two decades, from 1920-1937, were periods of frenetic
activity as Laban pursued his vision of a meaningful role for dance in
modern society. Like many artists, Laban was drawn to post-war Germany,
where the toppling of the monarchy and the imposition of democracy
held the promise of a new social order. In actuality, the years of the Weimar
Republic (1919-1933) and the subsequent takeover of the German
government by the National Socialists (1933-1945) were times of
enormous civil unrest and economic instability. Nevertheless, as John
Willett observes, just for those few years the arts of the European avantgarde began to have what cultural pessimists . . . normally accuse them
of lacking: an audience, a function, a unity, a vital core.51
Laban was not immune from the stresses of this period and repeatedly
had to find ways to cope with bureaucratic, financial, and political
pressures from both within and without the world of dance. Nevertheless,
Germany proved to be an extremely fertile environment. Labans
prodigious efforts, along with those of the eminently talented students he
attracted, reshaped ideas about the nature of dance, fostering a revolution
in style that extended well beyond German borders and the initial period
of chaotic experimentation.52
Labans arrival in Germany was not auspicious, however. Post-World
War I division of the Austro-Hungarian empire had made Labans
citizenship ambiguous. Whether he was officially viewed as Hungarian
or Czechoslovakian, he was a man without financial resource, or a
readily demonstrable profession. Despite these obstacles, Laban managed
to find a publisher in Stuttgart by the name of Seifert, who not only
accepted his book but also managed to secure permission for Laban to
stay in Germany.53 Publication of the book in 1920 to critical acclaim,

23

along with the successful performances of Labans protg, Mary

Wigman, established Laban as a leading figure in the emerging
Ausdruckstanz (Expressionist dance) movement. With his new partner, a
gifted dancer from the Zurich days named Dussia Bereska, Laban began
to attract students, who formed the kernel of a free dance group, in
which the fundamental means of expression were to come from the
rhythm of bodily movement and its spatial and dynamic components.54
On the basis of his growing reputation, Laban secured a position
with the Mannheim Opera as guest choreographer for the 1921-22 season.
Attempts to integrate his free dance group with traditionally-trained opera
ballet dancers proved difficult, and Laban seems to have realized that
state institutions were not likely to be conducive to the development of
the kind of new dance that he envisioned. With great resourcefulness,
Laban found independent financial backing and established a base of
operations in Hamburg in 1923, starting a chamber dance group and a
central Laban school.
This entrepreneurial venture set a pattern that allowed Laban to sustain
his dance activities through most of the 1920s. The school, in essence,
supported the dance company. The school not only provided training for
current and future company members; it also attracted many amateurs.
These amateurs also had the opportunity to dance together in a unique
dance form known as Bewegungschor (movement choir). An extension
of Labans open-air festivals in Ascona, the movement choir was intended
to be a celebration of community in movement, analogous in function to
traditional folk dance, but thoroughly contemporary in style and
meaning.55 It proved to be extremely popular.56
Laban was indefatigable in promoting these various dance activities.
In addition to choreographing, performing, and teaching, he continued
to lecture, to work on his notation system, and to publish his own books
along with many articles in periodicals of the day.57 His theoretical work
and its practical application proceeded hand in hand.
Meanwhile, gifted students scattered through Germany and started
their own Laban schools, modern dance companies, and movement
choirs.58 In order to control this proliferation, Laban established an
accreditation system. Maletic notes that increasingly Labans schools

24

began to serve a more integral and complex role in the dissemination of

his theories.59 Leaders of Laban schools had to have a Diploma, which
required them to dance, to choreograph, to know choreutic and eukinetic
theories, and to write notation. Because, at this time, the notation was
still in flux , and the choreutic and eukinetic theory developing, school
leaders were required to keep up-to-date on theoretical developments by
attending vacation courses.60
Success seemed to follow success. With the publication of three books
in 1926,61 Laban was invited to establish a Choreographic Institute for
notation and dance research in Wrzburg. In 1927, this research institute
moved to Berlin, along with the central Laban school. Later this same
year, Laban was instrumental in organizing a Dancers Congress and
establishing a dancers union. In 1928, major breakthroughs in notation
led to publication of Labans first book on the subject.62 The notation
system itself was showcased at the second Dancers Congress, and Laban
founded Schrifttanz (Written Dance), a scholarly journal for the discussion
of dance notation, with editor Alfred Schlee.
In 1929, Laban reached the peak of his dance career. Following a
major lecture tour in Germany, he designed and directed a massive festive
procession for handwork and industrial unions in Vienna.63 Three German
magazines, Singhr und Tanz, Der Tanz, and Schrifttanz, devoted issues
to Laban. The year culminated in a celebration of Labans 50th birthday
in which former students, now famous in their own right, paid homage to
Laban. As Wigman put it,
The dancers of today honor in the name Laban the beginning
of a new epoch in the history of the European dance. Laban was
the great inventor and stimulator. He gave us dancers a foundation.
He taught the nature of tension, the harmonic relations of swing
sequences, and the unity of body and space. Laban freed dance
from its reliance on music and returned dance to its self-reliance
as an absolute language of art.64
Events beyond the world of dance, however, cast a shadow over these
celebrations. Worldwide depression, brought on by the 1929 crash of the
American stock market, was eroding the amateur dance market that had

25

supported modern dance development in Germany. In the early twenties,

there seemed an insatiable demand among amateurs for instruction in
the new art of movement.65 Studio after studio had been opened, many
by former students of Wigman and Laban, until the market was glutted.
As the economic crisis worsened, amateur enrollment declined, and
schools became unreliable sources of support. Modern dancers began to
reconsider the opera house as a potential patron and venue for their art.
Laban detected this trend. In 1929, his Central School moved to Essen
and merged with the Folkwangschule (Folkwang School) directed by
former Laban student, Kurt Jooss. The Choreographic Institute also was
moved to Essen in 1930, while Laban himself stayed behind, accepting a
post as Director of Movement at the State Opera in Berlin and working
on his autobiography.66
Although Laban appeared to have made an adroit and timely career
move, he found himself facing the same challenges he had met in
Mannheim a decade earlier. He was saddled with ballet dancers from the
opera who were inimical to his choreographic style. Consequently, his
creative work was lackluster, and although he held onto this job until
early in 1934, his tenure was marked by controversy.67
Political pressures on Laban increased when the National Socialists
came to power in January 1933. Whatever his views, Laban was holding
a state post and this meant that he was working for the Nazis.68 Although
his contract with the Berlin Opera was not renewed, Labans international
reputation made him potentially useful to the regime. In 1934 he was
hired as Director of the newly-formed German Dance Bureau under the
Ministry of Propaganda. One of his functions in this job was to plan
dance festivities in conjunction with the 1936 Berlin Olympics, including
an event with movement choirs drawn from around Germany. Had this
event proceeded as planned, Labans movement choir creation would
have been showcased before an international audience. But, after a fatal
dress rehearsal attended by Nazi officials, Labans contribution was
cancelled.69 By gradual increments he was relieved of his official duties,
investigated, and denounced. Destitute and unable to work, Laban had
to find some way to get out of Germany.
An invitation to participate in an international dance congress in

26

Paris provided an opportunity for escape in the summer of 1937. Laban

left Germany with whatever he could carry. Paris proved to be only a
temporary solution, however. To stay in France, Laban had to have some
means of support. Alas, no Frenchman wanted German dance by 1937.70
With winter coming, Laban checked into a cheap rooming house. Alone,
depressed, and destitute, his life for dance, perhaps his life itself, seemed
to be over.
Beyond Dance (1938-1958)
Deliverance came early in 1938, when Laban was able to enter
England on the strength of a personal invitation from his ex-pupil Kurt
Jooss.71 Jooss himself had lost his state post at the Folkwangschule in
Essen shortly after the Nazis assumed power in 1933. After being
threatened in the press, Jooss, his family and company barely escaped
imprisonment by crossing into the Netherlands and then going to England,
where Dorothy and Leonard Elmhirst, progressive patrons of the
Dartington Hall estate in southwestern England, provided living quarters
and work space for the Jooss family and company. The Elmhirsts
subsequently extended this generosity to Laban.72
Jooss and his associate Sigurd Leeder had established their own
creative and pedagogical direction in the years since they had worked
with Laban. They were not eager to resume old roles with the master,
and Laban himself was in no shape to dance or teach. In any case, his
interests shifted away from the practice of dance to broader philosophical
concerns. Dorothy Elmhirst encouraged Laban to write about his
philosophy of movement and provided financial support and a studio in
which to work. Meanwhile, Lisa Ullmann, a young teacher in the JoossLeeder circle, attached herself to Laban, providing personal care and
support. As he gradually recovered his vitality in this supportive
environment, Laban began to reconstruct notes, drawings, and models,
and to work on the beginnings of a theoretical treatise on spatial form
and movement harmony.73
Practical concerns could not be kept at bay, however. With the
outbreak of the Second World War in 1939, the international group of
artists whom the Elmhirsts had attracted to their rural estate were forced

27

to scatter. As aliens, Laban and Ullmann had to be moved to an area that

was not sensitive for British defense. They found a place to live in Wales,
but restrictions were placed on their ability to work and to travel.
Fortunately, the Elmhirsts continued to take a personal interest in the
fate of Laban and Ullmann. Through the Dartington circle of connections
in industry, art, and progressive education, opportunities presented
themselves, and Laban and Ullmann pursued these with entrepreneurial
vigor. Despite the obvious hardships of the war and post-war years, Laban
was able to secure a livelihood and rebuild his reputation with Ullmanns
help. This reputation was not based on work in dance, however, but rather
on the extension and application of Labans ideas in the areas of education,
industry, theatre, and psychotherapy.
Education. Ullmann had been working with Jooss in Essen and had
come to England with the company in 1934, four years before Labans
arrival. Beyond her training work with the professional dancers in the
company, Ullmann had an interest in amateur dance and had done
extension courses in the communities around Dartington, establishing
contacts with local education authorities.74 She and Laban were able to
make other connections with a handful of English educators, mostly
situated in colleges of physical education, who had studied modern dance
in central Europe with Wigman or other Laban students. Through these
contacts Ullmann was able to secure teaching work during the war.75 Her
classes, carefully planned with Laban, attracted interest in progressive
education circles.76 When the war ended, Ullmann opened a private school
in Manchester, calling it the Art of Movement Studio. Laban contributed
to the curriculum and classes and supported Ullmanns efforts to promote
the educational value of movement, publishing a book for parents and
teachers in 1948.77 Their joint efforts met with fruition in 1949 when the
Ministry of Education recognized the Studio as a training college for
teachers of movement in schools.78 Since teacher trainees received
government funding for tuition, this development provided a solid
financial basis for the Art of Movement Studio, as well as a means of
promoting Labans ideas in state education of children.
Industry. Wartime employment for Laban also came about through
his contacts at Dartington. F.C. Lawrence, a time and motion study expert

28

who had provided advice on efficiency for several rural enterprises at

Dartington, was introduced to Laban in 1941. Lawrence was interested
in the application of Labans notation system in the study of work
movement. After collaborating in a trial project, the two men joined forces.
Laban and Ullmann moved to Manchester, where Lawrences firm was
based. Soon Laban found himself observing manual labor in tire, candy,
and textile factories, and giving advice on improving production and
worker satisfaction. Laban and Lawrence rapidly moved on from blue
collar work to a consideration of white collar labor in clerical and
managerial jobs.79 This empirical analysis of movement to exacting
standards in turn stimulated Labans theorizing about kinetic energy in
human movement. In 1947 he and Lawrence published Effort, a treatise
based on their collaboration.
Laban and Lawrence drew upon Art of Movement Studio students to
help with industrial assignments. One of these students, Warren Lamb,
went on to develop this line of work independently.80 Laban and Lawrence
continued to collaborate until Labans death in 1958, although Labans
active involvement in consulting assignments seems to have decreased
after the Art of Movement Studio moved to Surrey in southern England
in 1953.
Theatre. Laban had established some contacts in the theatre world
through lectures given during the war. After the war, he collaborated on
productions with Joan Littlewood, whose innovative Theatre Workshop
was near the Studio in Manchester. He also worked closely with Esme
Church, teaching for her at the Northern Theatre School and assisting
with stage movement in productions from 1946 until the Studio relocated
in 1953.81 This practical work led to yet another exposition of his
movement theory, The Mastery of Movement on the Stage, which was
first published in 1950.
Psychotherapy. Labans entre into this discipline again came about
through the Dartington circle. The Elmhirsts had invested in a private
psychotherapy clinic, the Withymeade Centre, run by a husband and wife
team of Jungian psychotherapists, Irene and Gilbert Champernowne.
Laban had met Irene Champernowne by chance in 1949 when they were
both booked to speak on art therapy for a gathering of occupational

29

therapists. They recognized each other as kindred spirits, and Laban

was invited to visit Withymeade.82 Extended visits to the Centre focused
Labans mind on the relationship between his work and that of Jung.83
Through Withymeade Laban also met William Carpenter, and the two
embarked on a joint exploration of movement and psychology, cut short
by Carpenters untimely death in 1954.84 Nevertheless, Laban pursued
research into personality, stress and intervention techniques until his
own death in 1958.85
Laban as Artist/Researcher
Maletic notes that Laban was a man of great complexity. He made
so many seminal contributions in so many diverse areas of dance that it
is difficult to label him according to established categories.86 Labans
career is indeed hard to categorize. Unlike most famous dancers, his
reputation does not rest on performance skills or choreographic creations.
Rather, his contributions to dance and movement studies are ideational.
As Bartenieff notes, we have no major publication that summarizes his
insights into one philosophical-theoretical statement, but we have three
crystallizations of his ways of looking at, analyzing, describing and
notating movement: (1) space harmony (choreutics), (2) Labanotation/
Kinetography, and (3) Effort/Effort notation. These three systems make
it possible to study and work with some extremely elusive phenomena
in tangible ways.87
Such intellectual contributions have led Preston-Dunlop to
characterize Laban as an artist and researcher.88 Laban the artist is a
public figure; Laban the researcher is more elusive. The next chapter
gives the elusive figure of Laban, the artist/researcher, greater definition
by examining how Laban linked the observation of movement to dance
theory through the medium of art.

30

Notes
11. Laban, Life for Dance, 63.
12. Reynolds and McCormick, No Fixed Points, 84.
13. Information about Labans early years is particularly scarce. Miklos
Vojteks paper, Encouraging Impulses Given by the Native Town,
published in 2006 as part of a conference proceedings, provides
some contextual information about Labans youthful contacts in
Bratislava. Labans autobiography, A Life for Dance, was originally
published in German in 1935 and subsequently translated into
English and published by Lisa Ullmann in 1975. It is a fanciful
work in which biographical details only emerge in relation to
Labans choreographies. Laban does not chronicle his career by
providing dates of events or names of family, friends, or colleagues.
Ullmanns annotations provide some of these details. John
Hodgsons and Valerie Preston-Dunlops 1990 monograph, Rudolf
Laban, provides an introduction to his life and work, along with a
chronology. Preston-Dunlops 1998 biography, Rudolf Laban, and
Evelyn Doerrs 2008 work, Rudolf Laban, flesh out this chronology.
14. Laban, Life for Dance, 36.
15. Martin Greens portrait of Laban in Mountain of Truth provides
insight into the social and economic circumstances of Labans family
of origin.
16. Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 4.
17. Laban, Life for Dance, 166.
18. Vojtek, Encouraging Impulses.
19. Ibid.
10. Laban, Life for Dance, 10.
11. Ibid., 168.
12. Ibid., 11.
13. Ibid., 13.
14. Ibid., 37.
15. Ibid., 51.
16. Ibid., 52.
17. This was the painter Wassily Kandinskys observation, cited in
Weiss, Kandinsky in Munich, 3.

31

18. Lynn Gamwells treatise, Exploring the Invisible, examines the

interrelationships of art and science in the early decades of the 20th
century. Studies of sensation and perception in particular influenced
psychological and philosophical writings on art, which in turn
generated innovative theory and practice in the artistic community.
Primary source materials from German aesthetic discourse of this
period can be found in Bloomfield, Forster, and Reese, Empathy,
Form, and Space.
19. Hermann Obrist originally studied botany, but certain visionary
experiences shifted his interest to art. His own work moved from
stylization of natural forms, common in Art Nouveau, to genuinely
abstract designs. His theoretical writings emphasized the dynamism
inherent in natural form, and it is easy to see how Obrists ideas
would have stimulated Labans nascent interests in movement and
dance.
20. Milner, Studios of Paris.
21. Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 10.
22. Laban does not mention seeing Loie Fuller perform. However, he
must have seen images of her work, for as Current and Current
note, Her impact on the Art Nouveau world was so profound that
more art representing her was produced than for any other woman
up to the present (Loie Fuller, 343). This comment reiterates the
intertwining of art and dance in fin-de-sicle Paris.
23. Borsi and Godoli, Paris 1900.
24. Labans autobiography describes the importance of his youthful
apprenticeship to an unnamed painter, but gives few technical details
of his training. A copy of a resum prepared for Laban by Suzanne
Perrottet is found in the Laban Collection at Trinity Laban in
London. It notes that Laban studied art in Munich in 1899 and at
the cole des Beaux Arts in Paris in 1900. But the people with
whom Laban studied and the actual nature of his tuition are not
specified. Another resum prepared by Laban himself around 1951
and located now in the Rudolf Laban Archive, National Resource
Centre for Dance, only reports that he was a student of architecture
in Paris in 1900. Under Positions Held in this same resum Laban

32

25.

26.
27.
28.

29.
30.
31.

32.

33.

34.
35.
36.

makes no reference to having worked professionally as an artist

even in freelance capacity. If Laban did not obscure his background
as a visual artist, he certainly chose not to highlight it.
A few of Labans early Art Nouveau style works have been
reproduced in Hodgsons and Preston-Dunlops monograph, Rudolf
Laban, and in Suzanne Perrottets memoir, Ein Bewegtes Leben.
Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 17.
Ibid., 18.
Concerning the Spiritual in Art sets forth Kandinskys belief that
spiritual art must be like music, non-representational yet
expressive. He goes on to outline a theory for abstract art based
upon color, form, and movement. Kandinskys ideas at the time
were strongly influenced by Theosophy, a popular syncretic and
esoteric philosophy that proclaimed the coming of a new age of
enlightenment.
Klaus Lankheit, History of the Almanac, in Kandinsky and Marc,
Der Blaue Reiter Almanac, 35.
Weiss, Kandinsky in Munich, 95.
Rudolf Steiner was the head of the German section of the
Theosophical Society and often lectured in Munich. He used these
dramas as didactic devices to convey precepts of his own esoteric
philosophy, which subsequently became known as Anthroposophy.
Siegloch, How Eurythmy Began. Painting and theatre were not the
only arts seeking new forms of symbolic and spiritual expression.
Steiner developed gestural and locomotor designs to illuminate
human speech through movement. See also, Steiner, An Introduction
to Eurythmy.
Goldberg, Performance. Wedekind performed satirical ballads in
Munichs first cabaret, The Eleven Executioners a popular
gathering place for artists in the Schwabing district. His plays
explored sexuality with a frankness found shocking in the early
years of the 20th century.
Laban, Life for Dance, 81.
Ibid., 83.
Ibid., 84.

33

37.
38.
39.
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.
45.
46.

47.

48.
49.
50.
51.
52.
53.
54.
55.

56.

57.

Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 81.

Green, Mountain of Truth, 119.
Spector, Rhythm and Life.
Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 22.
Wigman, Mary Wigman Book, 33.
Ibid., 38, 39.
Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 37.
Fauchereau, Arp, 12.
Comments by Dada poet Richard Huelsenbeck, cited in Soby, Arp,
17.
Bolliger, Magnaguagno, and Meyer (Dada in Zurich); Doerr (Rudolf
Laban); Perrottet (Ein Bewegtes Leben); and Green (Mountain of
Truth) all agree that Laban did not involve himself personally in
the Dada happenings. Labans artistic sensibilities do not seem to
have extended to provocative avant-garde movements like Dada,
Futurism, and the politicized Expressionism of the 1920s.
Theosophy, Anthroposophy, Free Masonry, the OTO, and other
esoteric groups were part of the Ascona landscape. Like many avantgarde artists of the fin-de-sicle period, Laban is known to have
been attracted to these world-views.
Green, Mountain of Truth, 104.
Laban, Life for Dance, 158. Laban sees Song of the Sun as a
precursor to his later work with amateur community dance.
Doerr, Rudolf Laban, 80.
Willett, Art and Politics in Weimar, 13.
Partsch-Bergsohn, Modern Dance in Germany and United States.
Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban.
Maletic, Body Space Expression, 6.
Toepfers Empire of Ecstasy provides an insightful account of
Labans dance work in the context of the broader body culture
phenomenon of this period in Germany.
In Rudolf Laban, Hodgson and Preston-Dunlop report that by 1924
twelve movement choirs had been established in Germany, Austria,
Hungary, and Switzerland.
A chronological listing of Labans articles in German and English

34

can be found in Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban.

58. For more on prominent students and schools, see Hodgson and
Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, and Maletic, Body Space Expression
(Part One, notes 32, 34).
59. Maletic, Body Space Expression, 17.
60. Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 111.
61. These books were Gymnastik und Tanz (Gymnastics and Dance),
Des Kindes Gymnastik und Tanz (Childrens Gymnastics and
Dance), and Choreographie (Choreography). In the first two books,
Laban delineates the differing functions of gymnastics and dance.
Choreographie introduces Labans ideas regarding spatial
organization of dance and showcases his preliminary attempts to
develop dance notation symbols.
62. Laban, Schrifttanz.
63. Accounts of this massive event can be found in Laban, Life for
Dance, and Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban.
64. Wigman, cited in Partsch-Bergsohn, Modern Dance, 44.
65. Manning, Ecstasy and the Demon, 134.
66. Laban, Ein Leben fr den Tanz.
67. Labans difficulties with the ballet soloists is discussed in Karina
and Kant, Hitlers Dancers. The scapegoating of him by the press
is explored in Doerrs Rudolf Laban.
68. Writers are divided regarding Labans motives for collaborating
with the National Socialists. See Karina and Kant, Hitlers Dancers;
Koegler, In the Shadow of the Swastika; Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf
Laban; and Doerrs Rudolf Laban.
69. Partsch-Bergsohn, Modern Dance, 93.
70. Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 202.
71. Ibid., 204.
72. The well-to-do Elmhirsts were intellectually, socially, and artistically
perspicacious. In 1925 they had purchased the dilapidated
Dartington estate with the aim of rural revitalization. The estate
had a progressive school as well as various agricultural and artistic
enterprises. See Partsch-Bergsohn, Modern Dance, and Willson,
In Just Order Move.

35

73. This treatise was meant to introduce Labans ideas to the English
public, but the outbreak of the war interfered with publication. Laban
left the manuscript with the Elmhirsts for safekeeping. They only
returned the manuscript to Lisa Ullmann after Labans death.
Ullmann edited and published the book in England in 1966, under
the title Choreutics. The American edition, titled The Language of
Movement, was published in 1974. This book remains an important
exposition of Labans theory of spatial order and movement
harmony.
74. Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban.
75. Various groups the English Folksong and Dance Society, Ling
Physical Education Association, and Bedford Physical Training
College had shown interest in central European modern dance in
the early 1930s. Bedford students Joan Goodrich and Diana Jordan
had studied with Mary Wigman in Germany, and returned eager to
promote the idea of dance in English education. The arrival of Laban
and Ullmann was fortuitous, for they were able to support this
growing interest.
76. Willson, In Just Order Move, and Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban,
provide insight into how Labans dance ideas, many drawn from
his community work with movement choirs, became adopted by
progressive British educationists.
77. Laban, Modern Educational Dance.
78. Willson, In Just Order Move, 56.
79. For a more complete history of the Laban/Lawrence collaboration,
see Moore, Movement and Making Decisions.
80. Lamb, Posture and Gesture; Lamb and Turner, Management
Behaviour; Davies, Beyond Dance.
81. A brief account of these collaborations can be found in Hodgson,
Mastering Movement.
82. Hodgson, Mastering Movement, 75.
83. Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 255.
84. More on the Laban/Carpenter collaboration can be found in
Hodgson, Mastering Movement, along with a summary of their
unfinished manuscript on movement psychology.

36

85.
86.
87.
88.

Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 255.

Maletic, Body Space Expression, 27.
Bartenieff, Space, Effort and Brain, 37.
Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 232.

CHAPTER 2

The Artist/Researcher at Work

Tracing a Research Career
Three sources provide insight into how Laban developed his theories
of dance and movement: his published writings, reports of colleagues,
and unpublished archival materials. Nevertheless, many aspects of
Labans working methodology are unspecified. Like many individuals
who break new ground in a discipline, Laban was not formally trained in
research protocols. While he claims his formulations are based upon
empirical evidence, his published writings report the results of inquiries
but not the methods through which his theories were formulated. These
must be reconstructed through a process of triangulation comparing
published works with reports of close associates and archival papers. Of
these sources, the latter provide the most unguarded glimpse of the
workings of this artist and researcher and serve as the focus of discussion
in this chapter.
Lacunae in our understanding of Labans methods of inquiry are all
the more remarkable in light of the fact that he established two research
organizations over the course of his long and varied career. The first was
the Choreographic Institute for dance research, launched in Wrzburg
in 1926. From its inception, the Institute had lofty aims: to form a new
dance aesthetic and theory of dance within a two-part framework of theory
and practice.1 Finding the necessary financial support to pursue these
aims proved difficult, however. The Institute was moved to Berlin in
1927, and then to Essen in 1930, where it subsequently ceased operations,
a victim of politics.2 During its brief existence, members of Labans
staff were appointed to pursue research along three lines: Choreutics,
Eukinetics, and Notation. In actuality, the Choreographic Institute seems
to have served primarily as an umbrella for Labans variegated
professional activities. It is difficult to document what was studied or to
identify clear research outcomes beyond Labans own publications at
the time, notably Choreographie (1926), Gymnastik und Tanz (1926),

38

Des Kindes Gymnastik und Tanz (1926), and Schrifttanz (1928).

Laban had a second chance to establish a research center, however.
In 1953, through generosity of the Elmhirst family, the Art of Movement
Studio was given premises in the countryside near Addlestone, Surrey,
and the Laban Centre was set up as the affiliated research branch of the
Studio.3 Laban and Ullmann relocated, with Ullmann continuing to
oversee the Studio. Laban increasingly devoted his final years to writing
and research, collaborating with various Studio staff members. 4
Nevertheless, when Laban died in 1958, there were no outstanding
thinkers waiting to step into Labans shoes, and no university or learned
body, or enlightened corporation, poised to invest heavily in treading all
or even some of the new paths he had already laid down.5
Laban only managed to publish one book after this research center
was established in 1953. This was a short treatise, Principles of Dance
and Movement Notation (1958), undertaken to re-establish his copyright
on the notation symbols. However, Laban left all his personal papers
a huge collection of writings and drawings to Lisa Ullmann. This was
perhaps not the happiest choice of heir, for as Willson critically reports,
Ullmann showed little interest in Labans research during his last years
at Addlestone; nor does a reading of the surviving archives reveal any
sense of her having shown, in the same years, much drive for or grasp of
the possibilities of an amalgamation of all Laban-related enterprises.6
Ullmann did, however, hold on grimly to every chance of controlling
activities associated with Laban work.7 As a consequence, the fruits of
Labans final years of writing and research were not available for scholarly
scrutiny until after Ullmanns death in 1985, when trustees of her estate
donated the Rudolf Laban Archive to the National Resource Centre for
Dance (NRCD) at the University of Surrey. By the time the NRCD opened
in 1989, more than 30 years had elapsed since Labans death. It is
somewhat difficult after three decades to pick up the strands of inquiry
that Laban was pursuing. Nevertheless, these archival traces provide
valuable insight into Labans working methods when considered in
relation to his published work and accounts of his close associates.

39

Reconstructing a Research Methodology

Published works, unpublished personal papers, and the reports of
colleagues provide differing views of Laban, the artist/researcher. One
point of agreement, however, is that he had a keen eye for movement. In
the early years of his visual art career, Laban claims to have made a point
of seeking out varied settings to observe movement, so as to acquaint
himself with hitherto unknown social strata and conditions.8 This seems
to have been a kind of rite of passage that he undertook to redress an
idealistic naivety, but people-watching developed into a genuine interest
and talent.9 In later years, Labans penetrating powers of observation
became legendary among his students and colleagues, for he saw people
with a startling clarity.10 He sometimes expressed his perceptions in
quickly drawn but not always flattering caricatures: Like a glaring
flashlight they pointed out your own weak spots to you, and this in a
more direct and convincing way than any other criticism could have
done.11
Nevertheless, Labans perceptiveness was more often used benignly,
to draw out the best in his students, for, according to Wethered, he had
an uncanny faculty of knowing how to handle people.12 Wigman
attributed this uncanny faculty to Labans penetrating grasp of movement:
with a flicker of an eye he seemed to take in every funny detail of a
movement, a picture, a person or a given situation.13 Hutchinson-Guest
described the scope of Labans movement observation skills in the
following way: Laban could see the detailed and also the thing as a
whole. And he was interested in both, and particularly in relationships,
how one aspect affected or modified another.14
These accounts indicate that Laban studied movement as a naturalist
would. His vocation, of course, provided ample opportunity to observe
moving people in situ in classes, rehearsals, theatres, factories, clinics,
and other venues. These wide-ranging observations of movement
behavior, amassed over a lifetime, must have provided the empirical basis
for Labans broad theoretical concepts. This point is underscored by
Ullmanns assertion that Labans formulations of the inherent laws of
natural movement gradually came to light in the authors [Labans]
professional activity as a dancer and dance-teacher.15

40

If Ullmanns remarks are correct, then Labans research method can

be construed as a naturalistic inquiry that generated grounded theory.
As Glaser and Strauss describe, this type of research process originated
in sociology, where the study of human behavior in complex social settings
does not lend itself to the experimental method. Experimental research
starts with the generation of a hypothesis that is based on a priori
assumptions. This hypothesis is subsequently tested under controlled
conditions to prove or disprove the theory. In contrast, naturalistic research
does not begin with the formulation of a hypothesis. It begins with
collecting data through observation in the field. Preliminary explanations
are formulated through the analysis of the data. Then new observations
are collected, and hypotheses revised accordingly. There is a doubling
back and forth between observing and theorizing in which the processes
of induction, deduction, and verification intermingle in a non-linear way.
As Glaser and Strauss delineate, generating a theory from data means
that most hypotheses and concepts not only come from the data, but are
systematically worked out in relation to the data during the course of the
research.16 The grounded theory is completed only when theoretical
sampling of field data no longer reveals anomalies that require explanatory
adjustments.17
Laban is known to have made constant adjustments in his theoretical
formulations. Colleagues acknowledge that he was not a man who was
satisfied with the extent of his knowledge.18 Gleisner observes that Laban
never rested, he always moved on and on.19 Jooss concurs, explaining
that it was characteristic of Labans teachings never to give concrete
answers.20 Thornton has hypothesized that Laban was reluctant to give
a concrete answer because such definition might result in a restriction
instead of a constant expansion of his ideas.21 Preston-Dunlop reiterates
this observation, stating that Laban preferred to leave the foundations
of his work in a state of liquidity.22
Based on her study of Labans published works in German and
English, Maletic has mapped the development of various aspects of Laban
theory chronologically.23 This study documents periodic changes in
terminology and concept. These changes correspond with shifts in Labans

41

sphere of activities, and indicate that he engaged in theoretical sampling

of movement behavior at different times and in different settings. This
chronology supports the perception of close associates Laban never
really considered his theoretical research closed, but continued to modify
concepts based on ongoing observations.
These conceptual modifications are consistent with procedures used
to generate grounded theory. However, Laban was ahead of his time, and
in many instances, ahead of his associates.24 As Thornton notes, by never
giving a definite solution, Laban left the door open for research, but he
also left it open for confusion.25 Possessed by a creative energy, he
seemed to be always rushing ahead with ideas before executing them.26
His theoretical shifts and conceptual modifications gave colleagues the
impression that Laban was against any system in his work.27 There is
such agreement among his close associates on this point that one must
accept this reluctance to systematize as a salient characteristic of Labans
research methods.
However, Labans personal papers from the final two decades of his
career (the ones bequeathed to Lisa Ullmann and now held by the National
Resource Center for Dance) present a different picture. It is true that this
is a vast and disorderly collection of often fragmentary writings
accompanied by drawings and rough sketches. Many pieces in the Archive
are undated, making it difficult to ascertain chronological lines of inquiry
and development. Nevertheless, conceptual themes can be discerned in
Labans repeated explorations of particular topics. The drawings that
accompany theoretical writings shed further light on his methods of
generating models of movement behavior. These visual models
demonstrate a much more consistent approach to theoretical development
than most colleagues credit Laban with employing. In this context
Littlewoods observations appear perspicacious. She notes that while
Laban did not want his work intellectualized, paradoxically he spent
his life on system research.28 The theoretical work that Laban was unable
to publish in his lifetime bears witness to this systematic research. And
nowhere is this more obvious than in Labans artwork.

42

Labans Artwork
Labans involvement in the visual arts during the first two decades
of the 20th century positions him in a network of modernizations, ranging
from the Art Nouveau and early Expressionist movements to the Zurich
Dadaists experiments in performance art. Laban himself downplayed
this aspect of his career. While, as Hodgson and Preston-Dunlop point
out, the only formal professional training Laban ever had was in art,29
actual details of this training remain vague. Only a fraction of Labans
drawings have been published. A sample of his early work appears in
Suzanne Perrottets memoir and in the catalogue from an exhibition of
early modern art mounted in Frankfurt in 1995. 30 Laban did the
illustrations for his autobiography, and other drawings from the early
and middle decades of Labans career have been published in biographies
by Hodgson and Preston-Dunlop.
The artwork used in this study is drawn from the Rudolf Laban
Archive (National Resource Centre for Dance, University of Surrey) and
dates from the final two decades of Labans career. A small sample of
these works has been published posthumously in various sources.31 These
published examples represent only a fraction of the works held in this
Archive. The authors research has surveyed over 1200 drawings and
photographs of models held as a special category of material. Under other
categorical headings in the Archive there are literally hundreds more
drawings and sketches. Taken altogether, these materials not only
represent the breadth of Labans graphic work, they also demonstrate
how Laban systematically drew upon his first career in visual art to
develop theoretical models of human movement.
While not equally represented, the following types of works are found
among Labans personal papers: figure drawings, geometrical sketches,
drawings that combine human and geometrical forms, photos of threedimensional constructions and models, and miscellaneous works such as
architectural sketches, landscapes, portraits, and caricatures. Descriptions
and samples of these types of work follow.
Figure Drawings. As a youth, Laban excelled in figure drawing and
received early recognition for his talent within his family circle. This
talent was cultivated through his formal art training. Hodgson and Preston-

43

Dunlop affirm that Laban studied human muscle, sinew and bone
structure, and began to put together a notebook of anatomical sketches,
many in colour, expressing a detailed observation and understanding.32
An example of Labans basic grasp of artists anatomy can be seen in
Figure 2-1, which is a study of torso flexion and extension.

Figure 2-1.
Anatomical study.
Rudolf Laban
Archive L/C/3/14
NRCD.

The majority of Labans drawings of the human figure are not as

anatomically detailed as in this example. Rather, a few simple lines are
used to capture the human form in motion. Motion, rather than anatomy,
is accentuated. To portray movement in his figure drawings, Laban utilized a variety of approaches, often working and reworking a pose many
times. Among materials in the Rudolf Laban Archive, there is one pose
that has been rendered eighteen times, with each black and white version
handled differently. Two examples are shown here. In Figure 2-2, the
dancer is rendered realistically. The form is outlined in pencil and contouring shadows are created by short, straight, fine lines. In Figure 2-3,
the same pose is portrayed with a heavy, continuously curved outline.
The pattern of light and dark on the body is reversed from the pattern in
the previous example. In this sketch there are flat areas of heavy shadow,
and the whole figure is much more stylized and abstract. These two examples show how Laban played with pencil markings, varying among

44

Figure 2-2.
Figure study.
Rudolf Laban
Archive L/C/3/20
NRCD.

Figure 2-3.
Figure study variation.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/3/18 NRCD.

continuous, short, curved, angular, fine, or heavy strokes and experimenting with the patterns of light and shadow. This play of light and
shade, which testifies to Labans familiarity with techniques used in Art
Nouveau design, reverses figure and ground relationships. This may have
been a graphic technique Laban employed to help himself perceive different relationships between the forms of moving figures and the form of
space through which the bodies are moving. Despite stylized rendering,
Laban does not distort the proportion of the body itself. In general, his
figure drawings faithfully adhere to a classical canon of human proportion and, in this sense, his figural representation remains realistically
anthropometric.
Geometrical Forms. These works demonstrate Labans grasp of solid
geometry, his ability to construct and de-construct skeletal and solid
shapes, and his capacity to visualize movement unfolding within a threedimensional geometrical grid. There are literally hundreds of these types
of drawings in the Rudolf Laban Archive. Most are done in pencil, pen,
or colored pencil. In the last instance, a simple palette is used and the
choice of color seems to serve less as an aesthetic device and more as a
code for identifying or highlighting certain parts of the forms.

45

The geometrical drawings primarily represent the five regular Platonic

solids tetrahedron, octahedron, cube, icosahedron, and dodecahedron.
For instance, in Figure 2-4 two regular polyhedra are depicted. The left
form is an icosahedron (some of the edges of faces are missing) and the
right form is an octahedron. Drawings of stellated and truncated solids
are also found, along with sketches of semi-regular solids such as the
cuboctahedron. Sometimes the geometrical forms are set squarely with
reference to the picture frame; in other instances the forms are tilted. For
example, in the colored pencil sketch shown in Plate A (center section),
an octahedron is rotated towards and away from the viewer around its
horizontal axis, while being tilted slightly on its vertical axis. Five different
views of the octahedron are presented, with each view overlapping the
others. These various representations indicate Labans grasp of
perspective. His fine handling of stereographic technique can literally
make the octahedron seem to vibrate and dance.

Figure 2-4. Sketches of icosahedron and octahedron.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/2/119 NRCD.

In other sketches Laban elaborates upon polyhedral forms by

highlighting certain edges to create circuits that are three-dimensionally
symmetrical. The spatial complexity of the circuit varies, depending upon
the polyhedron chosen and the number of links or edges utilized in the
circuit. For example, Figure 2-5 shows a fairly complex circuit traversing
edges of a truncated octahedron. This semi-regular solid has eight

46

Figure 2-5.
Symmetrical tracing of
edges of truncated
octahedron.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/2/128
NRCD.

hexagonal and six square sides. The circuit appears to snake its way
around four edges of six of the eight hexagonal faces, returning to its
point of origin.
In many drawings Laban leaves out the polyhedron itself and simply
represents the circuit, as in Plate B. Here circuits of increasing
circumference are angularly traced along the edges of a small icosahedron
nested within a dodecahedron which is nested in turn within a large
icosahedron. The polyhedral forms themselves are invisible. Such
drawings become relatively abstract. A mathematician would recognize
what Laban is doing, however. Each of the inner and outer brown shapes
is a Hamiltonian circuit, a pathway that visits each of the twelve corners
of the icosahedron once and ends at the same corner where it began.
Laban drew these types of circuits over and over again. These sketches
appear merely to depict a linear shape situated in a particular geometrical
grid. For Laban, however, these designs capture a trace-form or a series
of circular movements that traverse the space around the dancer. Each
circuit has been carefully constructed to be symmetrical in three
dimensions. In this sense, these drawings are explorations of choreutic
theory, Labans systematic examination of the relationship between bodily
range of motion and the types of designs a dancer can trace in the
surrounding space.
Laban used a similar technique to visualize sequences of kinetic

47

energy change, which are articulated in his eukinetic theories. These

drawings represent formal relationships rather than actual movements
in space. An example of this type of drawing is shown in Figure 2-6.

Figure 2-6. Formal

diagram of effort pattern.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/53/2 NRCD.

Most of Labans sketches explore pattern through symmetry

operations. However, in the series of drawings shown in Plate C, Laban
manipulates an angular pentagon and flexible heptagon, bending and
linking them three-dimensionally in various configurations. These
drawings suggest that Laban was experimenting with topological
manipulations of form, in which a shape is imagined as being rubbery
and capable of being bent, stretched, and twisted. Another example of
this type of topological transformation can be seen in Figure 2-7, in which
an octahedron is stretched and twisted to become more icosahedral in

Figure 2-7. Octahedron

being stretched.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/17/16 NRCD.

48

shape. Other shapes of interest to topologists, such as lemniscates, knots,

and Klein bottles, are also found among Labans sketches. For example,
in Figure 2-8 Laban has situated a twisted band in a hypercube, a fourdimensional cube. Laban began to explore complex geometrical models
such as these in the last decades of his career.

Figure 2-8.
Twisted band in hypercube.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/12/26 NRCD.

Combinations of Geometrical and Human Figures. Labans

geometrical drawings would stand as anomaly were it not for the
combination drawings in which abstract and human forms are integrated.
Here Labans concern with geometrical space and the moving human
figure come together. The set of drawings in Figures 2-9 and 2-10 reveal
how Laban linked these two subjects. In Figure 2-9 one finds various
manipulations in the form of five-sided polygons. In Figure 2-10 Laban
has sketched movement poses to fit within these various polygonal shapes.
Plate D shows how these geometrical forms have been used to generate
the figural shapes. A similar approach can be discerned in Plate E. Here
a more finished figure has been posed so as to fit within a tetrahedral
shape. The dancers hands and feet mark the four corners of this simple
Platonic solid (note two edges of the form are not drawn in).
In other instances, Laban appears to start with the movement and
derive the geometrical form from the figural constellation, as in Plate F.
Each figure depicts a momentary position in a movement sequence that
progresses from crouching to arching, twisting, and advancing. Laban

49

Figure 2-9. Variations on a

pentagonal shape.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/1/87 NRCD.

Figure 2-10. Poses designed

to fit within pentagonal
shapes.
Rudolf Laban ArchiveL/C/1/88 NRCD.

50

has used the dancers heads, extended arms, and feet to generate a complex
cluster of stellated shapes. It is as if the dancers poses represented
subsequent stages in the growth of a cluster of crystals.
In the pencil drawing shown in Figure 2-11, three figures pose
asymmetrically within a skeletal icosahedron. Only certain edges of the
icosahedron are represented by the twelve-sided symmetrical circuit that
surrounds the dancing trio. A number of similar compositions exist in
which parallel segments in the snake-like line that surrounds the movers
create a pattern of reflective symmetry, contrasting the dancers poses
and revealing Labans deep fascination with symmetry and asymmetry.

Figure 2-11.
Group of dancers
surrounded by
icosahedral shape.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/6/100
NRCD.

In these so-called combination drawings Laban brings the full range

of his technical skills as an artist into play, demonstrating his command
of anatomy, proportion, and rendering in perspective. Laban appears to
have developed an interest in this subject matter early in his career. Works
dating from around 1912-1918, held by the Kunsthaus Zurich in
Switzerland, bear a striking similarity to works created after 1938, such
as the figures shown in this section. This visual evidence suggests that
Laban pursued certain themes in his movement studies using consistent
methods across his research career.
Three-dimensional Constructions. With the exception of a very few
surviving models, this category of work exists only in photographic form,

51

due to the fact that Laban worked with simple, rather fragile materials
such as string, sticks, wood, cardboard, and clay. These constructions
were designed as models, typically of three-dimensional geometrical
forms. In some cases, these are simply mathematical shapes: solid forms,
such as tetrahedra and octahedra; skeletal shapes, such as icosahedra in
which the solid sides are removed, with only the edges left as the visible
bones of the form; truncated forms such as tetrahedra whose corners
have been cut off to create extra sides; and stellated forms in which a
star-like point has been added to each side of a simpler shape. Because
Laban utilized solid geometry in his notation system to create a coordinate
system for mapping movement, these types of models presumably were
built to assist with the development of the notation.
In addition to these rather straight-forward models, Laban also
constructed more complex shapes such as cubes with collapsed sides or
icosahedral shells that have been cut apart and twisted. The purpose of
these constructions is more obscure, although Laban appears to be
exploring the topological deformation of shape, a theme that becomes
salient in his later theoretical study. For example, the dynamic
deconstruction of regular polyhedra and their transformation into new
forms is a theme that also appears in some of Labans geometrical
drawings, as in the figure of an octahedron coming apart to become an
icosahedron, shown earlier in Figure 2-7.
Laban also created dynamic constructions that cantilever obliquely
in space. These models reveal inner axial lines of support that are used to
stablilize a seemingly unstable structure through countertension,
countertension being another important concept in his theoretical
exploration of balance in dance. In Plate G Laban has constructed a lyrelike structure in which to display one of his so-called movement scales.
The zigzagging shape suspended from the strings of the lyre is a carefully
designed trace-form similar in pattern to the Hamiltonian circuits depicted
in brown pencil in Plate B.
Finally, Laban explored various curvilinear forms such as knots,
twisted bands, and lemniscates in sculpture as well as drawings. An
example of this type of construction is shown in Plate H. Here a thick
clay band loops its way around four diagonal axes that jut downward, to

52

support, and outward, to project.

The photographic record of Labans sculptural works testifies not
only to his ability to generate and transform shapes in space, but also to
his proficiency in solid geometry. For example, in building a skeletal
icosahedron, the relationship of edges and internal rays must be in the
correct proportional ratio or the resulting polyhedron will not be regular;
that is, it will not have sides that are all the same regular shape and
corners that are equidistant and congruent. Building these models is one
way to understand the laws that govern their beautiful symmetries.
The three dimensional constructions that Laban created may also
have served as visual and tactile devices to help him understand form,
space, and movement. Building physical models of geometrical forms
provides a very practical knowledge of their characteristics. For example,
when these three-dimensional geometrical forms are constructed from
paper or cardboard, as Labans were, they typically start as a twodimensional grid. Polygonal faces that will be adjacent in the threedimensional form must either be left joined or cut apart if the solid is to
lie flat on the sheet of cardboard from which it is being made. To construct
the solid form, the grid is cut out and the joined faces are folded to create
edges. Then the faces that have been cut apart are glued together. By
these means, a flat sheet of paper can be made to encompass space,
creating a three-dimensional shape. Various motions are inherent in this
transformation: the flat grid encapsulates the movements of separating,
spreading, and exposing. Construction of the solid form utilizes the
opposite actions of joining, closing, and enfolding space. Thus,in an
artists hands, abstract geometrical concepts become tactile experiences,
and shapes are not merely static entities but the culmination of carefully
selected actions that impart form to the chosen medium.
Architectural Sketches. A small number of architectural designs are
found in the Rudolf Laban Archive. Published and unpublished designs
suggest that Laban favored polygonal structures with dome-like roofs.
Many of these feature a crystalline scaffolding that resembles the geodesic
structures of Buckminster Fuller.33 Figure 2-12 is typical. The function
of these structures is not obvious. Laban did, however, have an interest
in designing theatres. In particular, he wanted to create an appropriate

53

space for viewing dance, one that would allow the choreography to be
seen from all sides rather than only from the front. A few surviving designs
show beehive-like structures that are faintly reminiscent of Greek
amphitheatres.34 In contrast to Labans geometrical designs, the curved
lines of these structures seem to draw inspiration from the biomorphic
forms used in Art Nouveau architecture.

Figure 2-12.
Architectural sketches.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/1/2
NRCD.

Landscapes. Most of the landscapes found in the Rudolf Laban

Archive are executed in color and appear to have been done in the 1940s
and 1950s, when Laban was on holiday. The seascape shown in Plate I is
an example of this type of work. Familiar aspects of Labans style can be
detected here, notably the way the pencil strokes are used rhythmically
to create forms and light and dark masses.
The landscapes are of interest because of what they reveal about
Laban as a colorist. Many of Labans sketches are black and white. Work
in color is often done with colored pencil. Unlike working with paint,
colored pencil offers limited opportunity to mix color or layer hue on top

54

of hue. Thus in many of Labans line drawings, a very simple palette is

used. The majority of Labans landscapes, however, combine colored
pencil and what appears to be colored crayon or perhaps oil pastel. The
colors are layered over one another and sometimes worked, possibly with
water or solvent. This technique allowed Laban to create unique colors.
At the same time, he could work with the white of the paper, often leaving
it or merely partially coloring over it, much as a watercolorist would.
This particular use of media and technique is repeated over and over
again in the landscapes. Perhaps Laban could afford the slightly more
leisurely technique when on holiday. At any rate, he seldom used this
approach in his other types of work, except for portraits.
Portraits. Although few portraits exist, those that have survived are
usually color works, executed in either oil paint or crayon, as in Plate J.
Certain common stylistic features may be detected. The canvas focuses
attention on the head, as little of the rest of the body is visible save a
portion of the shoulders. The background is either dark or very sketchily
drawn. The eyes, whether open or closed, are given compositional
importance, as are the contours of the face and line of the chin. Laban
achieves a dramatic quality in these portraits by understating the context
and allowing the character of the subjects to stand out.
Caricatures. As noted earlier, Laban had a gift for movement
observation and utilized this in the caricatures he drew. Most of this
work has been dispersed, because this was the kind of drawing he [Laban]
made for friends or sold to magazines in the early years of his career.35
A surviving example is in Figure 2-13. As is often the case with caricature,
the sketch appears to have been done quickly, using only a pencil. There
is an economy in the use of line and shading. Labans basic grasp of
human anatomy, clearly demonstrated in his figure drawings, allows his
cartoon sketches to exaggerate body parts with a swift sureness and a
humorous touch.
In addition to the types of work described above, there are pastels
and monoprints among Labans output. Pastel was utilized primarily in
landscape work and monoprint for figural work. Only a few samples of
such works remain.

55

Figure 2-13.
Caricature.
Rudolf Laban Archive
L/C/9/114 NRCD.

Making Art and Theorizing Dance

Labans choice of media is of interest. He worked primarily in pen
and pencil. In the latter case, he used either black or colored pencil, with
occasional use of some sort of colored crayon. One finds few works in
other media. There are only a few oil paintings, pastels, and prints. Threedimensional work is also made with simple materials string, wood,
cardboard, or clay. Laban seemingly did not work in enduring materials
like stone or bronze.
Thus, there is a certain economy in the materials Laban chose to
work with an economy of time as well as cost. Painting, particularly
with oils, requires an extended duration. Colors must be applied and then
allowed to dry before more paint can be applied. An oil painting cannot
be completed in one sitting. Sketching in pencil, pen, or crayon has much
more immediacy. Work can be completed rapidly, with readily available
materials and little special paraphernalia. Moreover, the materials Laban
chose to work with were relatively inexpensive. In many cases he did not
even bother to sketch on artists paper, but used whatever was at hand.

56

Among the papers from the final two decades of his career, there is even
a small sketch on a paper napkin.
Economy of time and cost in relation to the materials Laban worked
with correlates with what is known about the intended audience for his
work. Labans so-called modern paintings were packed away around 1913
when Laban gave up visual art. In 1919 these artworks were retrieved
and exhibited as a part of a group show in Nuremburg. They proved to be
colourful working designs of his [Labans] thoughts on the relationships
of bodies and space.36 The aim of Labans participation in this exhibition
was financial; he needed funds. Apparently the designs proved marketable
even though they were never made with the intention to sell as art
works.37 Much of the same is true of the hundreds of drawings done
after 1938 and now housed in the Rudolf Laban Archive. There is no
record that Laban produced these works for sale or exhibition. Moreover,
Ullmann has indicated that none was intended for publication. Seemingly
Laban did the work for personal pleasure or to re-create some of his
lost study notes and to assemble the necessary material for the
continuation of his inquiry into the phenomenon of movement.38
Ullmanns comments draw a definite link between Labans practice
of visual art and his study of movement. Moreover, her remarks suggest
that the practice of visual art was for Laban both an act of remembrance
as well as a means of extending his theoretical work. Hodgson and
Preston-Dunlop concur. They observe that the practice of art proved to
be only a further means of developing skills he [Laban] would later use
in a related field.39 Once Laban abandoned visual art as a career, drawing
became a tool with which to explore dance. Dance can be thought of as a
moving picture in which the body is viewed against the canvas of space
itself. Skills and techniques drawn from academic training and exposure
to modern styles proved relevant to Laban in exploring themes with which
he was preoccupied such as the geometry of the moving body in relation
to the geometry of space, time, and energy.
The hundreds of drawings of polyhedra also echo Labans
preoccupation with developing three-dimensional forms for theorizing
dance and movement. This work reflects Labans ability to represent
three-dimensional shapes in a two-dimensional sketch, revealing also

57

his understanding of perspective and proportion. But the really interesting

feature of Labans geometrical drawings surpasses the fact that he could
represent such forms realistically Laban not only could draw these
forms accurately in perspective, he also could manipulate the forms. He
could make them stand on an edge, tilt, rotate towards and away from
the viewer, start to come apart in space, and metamorphose into other
forms. These manipulations could be represented without distorting the
forms graphically. Thus Laban was capable not only of capturing
polyhedral forms but also of transforming them graphically; indeed,
transformation appears to be a theme in many sketches.
The geometrical drawings also reveal Labans interest in pattern and
symmetry. Here Laban shows himself not only as an artist but also as
something of an amateur mathematician. One way to approach what Laban
appears to be doing in drawing after drawing is by analogy. The Islamic
artists who created richly textured tile mosaics displayed a very practical
grasp of the mathematics of two-dimensional space, for there are only
certain kinds of symmetries which our space can support.40 The
symmetrical circuits that Laban drew explore similar patterns in threedimensions rather than two. Just as the Islamic artist used a flat network
of polygons to generate a pattern, so Laban used a three-dimensional
network of polygons (the faces of various polyhedra) to generate threedimensional patterns. These abstract symmetries are then correlated with
the actual forms created by moving bodies. The drawings of human figures
posed within polyhedral structures or circuits reveal Labans graphic
explorations of the interface between movement form and spatial form,
an interface that comprises the basis of his choreutic theory. His graphic
understanding of symmetry operations in design also informs his modeling
of eukinetic theory. Ultimately symmetry in the broadest sense became a
powerful conceptual tool for Labans explorations of movement harmony.
Labans drawings, then, can be seen as an important tool in his
theoretical study of dance and movement. Since these artworks were not
produced for the public, they have largely escaped scrutiny and,
consequently, their seminal role in the development of Labans movement
theory has been overlooked. Even when examined, Labans artworks are
elusive. The more abstract geometrical pieces are obscure. The more

58

representational pieces suggest that Laban was not a great or innovative

artist, but merely a competent one. Such works are easy to dismiss. But
competence in the representation of form, both human and geometric,
rests upon visual traditions and artistic theories. It will be shown in the
following chapter that these traditions and theories, coupled with the
innovations in visual representation that occurred at the end of the 19th
and the beginning of the 20th centuries, provided the additional conceptual
tools that Laban utilized to develop his notation system, his taxonomy of
human movement, and his theory of movement harmony.

59

Notes
11. Maletic, Body Space Expression, 18.
12. Partsch-Bergsohn, Modern Dance, 29.
13. Willson, In Just Order Move.
14. Hodgson and Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban.
15. Willson, In Just Order Move, 94.
16. Ibid., 118.
17. Ibid., 119.
18. Laban, Life for Dance, 40.
19. According to Diana Jordan, Labans real interest was people. He
once said, to look at movement is to study people. Cited in
Thornton, Movement Perspective, 124.
10. Thornton, Movement Perspective,12.
11. Wigman, Mary Wigman Book, 33.
12. Wethered, cited in Thornton, Movement Perspective, 14.
13. Wigman, cited in Thornton, Movement Perspective, 17.
14. Hutchinson-Guest, cited in Thornton, Movement Perspective, 13.
15. Laban, Language of Movement, 108n.
16. Glaser and Strauss, Discovery of Grounded Theory, 6.
17. For more on this research methodology, see Denzin, 1978; and A.
Strauss, 1987.
18. Thornton, Movement Perspective, 18.
19. Gleisner, cited in Thornton, Movement Perspective, 18.
20. Jooss, cited in Thornton, Movement Perspective, 19.
21. Thornton, Movement Perspective, 19
22. Preston-Dunlop, cited in Thornton, Movement Perspective, 132.
23. Maletic, Body Space Expression.
24. Naturalistic and qualitative methods of research, used to generate
grounded theory, were not developed by social scientists until the
1960s. These procedures have only gradually been accepted by the
research community as appropriate modes of inquiry. While Labans
research methods must be viewed as informal, he nevertheless seems
to have been a pioneer in applying naturalistic methodology to the
study of human movement behavior.

60

25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.

32.
33.

34.
35.
36.
37.
38.
39.
40.

Thornton, Movement Perspective, 19.

Maletic, Body Space Expression, 28.
Lamb, cited in Thornton, Movement Perspective, 19.
Littlewood, cited in Willson, In Just Order Move, 40.
Hodgson and Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 158.
Perrottet, Ein Bewegtes Leben; Henderson and Loers, Okkultismus
und Avantgarde.
A Vision of Dynamic Space consists of writings and drawings from
the Rudolf Laban Archive that were selected by Lisa Ullmann and
published by Falmer Press in 1984, shortly before Ullmanns death.
This work was republished in a French translation by SchwartzRemy as Espace Dynamique. This 2003 work also included other
previously unpublished selections from the Rudolf Laban Archive,
as well as chapters from Choreutics.
Hodgson and Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 161.
Buckminster Fuller (1895-1983) was an American architect whose
geometrical designs aimed to reshape the urban environment. While
Fullers geodesic domes are well known today, it is doubtful that
Laban would have been familiar with such work. Since Fuller only
became known internationally in the 1960s, Labans geometrical
designs probably represent original explorations of a similar theme.
Designs for dance theatres appear in Laban, Life for Dance, and
Hodgson and Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban.
Hodgson and Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 169.
Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 24.
Ibid., 54.
Laban, Vision of Dynamic Space, 79.
Hodgson and Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 158.
Bronowski, Ascent of Man, 174.

CHAPTER 3

Visual Representation of Movement:

Tradition and Innovation
Representing Movement
The challenge of movement representation is shared by visual artists
and dancers, albeit in differing ways. Artists grapple with the problem
graphically, for they must be able to depict the human form in a variety
of still poses that nevertheless convey actions of all sorts. Dancers grapple
with the problem mnemonically, for they must be able to remember and
reproduce the steps, gestures, rhythms, and spatial patterns of a choreography. When Laban turned his energies to dance, he was not merely
concerned with the cognitive construction and preservation of muscle
memory; he was also determined to develop a graphic notation of
movement that would allow dances to be recorded and reproduced from
a written score. In tackling this problem, Laban drew upon traditions and
innovations in the graphic representation of movement with which he
was familiar from his experiences as a visual artist.
The fin-de-sicle period when Laban came of age as a visual artist
was a particularly provocative epoch, for tradition coexisted uneasily
with innovation. The great European art academies were still functioning.
These institutions made it possible for young artists to become familiar
with classical traditions of realistic representation that had been
rediscovered and perfected during the Renaissance. Traditional areas in
which an artist was expected to be knowledgeable included human
anatomy, proportion, and rendering in perspective. Artists also learned
practical techniques that had been developed over time to facilitate
realistic depiction of form, figure, and motion.
The fin-de-sicle was also a restless period, when artists chafed
against many of the conventions of representation that were associated
with academic art. The blossoming of a sense of modernity in European
culture that occurred between 1880 and 1914 gave rise to a robust search
for new forms of artistic expression.1 The development of photography

62

during this time raised questions about the purpose of painting and the
need for realistic depiction. One avant-garde movement followed another
Impressionism, Symbolism, Art Nouveau, Futurism, Cubism,
Expressionism, Fauvism, and Dada. Each new art impulse gave rise not
only to new modes of expression but also to new theories. These rapid
evolutions in form and concept had wide-ranging effects beyond the visual
arts, in many cases spawning related movements in literature and the
performing arts. Laban was situated in this vortex of cross-currents. This
chapter examines how he drew upon streams of tradition and innovation
in the graphic representation of movement, adapting these approaches to
the study of dance.
The first traditional area to be examined is proportion. Initially,
proportion appears to be a visual design element with little obvious
relevance to dance. Yet theories of proportion, which focus on the
mathematical relations of part to whole, have been particularly important
in visual art for the realistic representation of the human body in motion.
That is, theories of proportion lead to theories of movement for the simple
reason that proportion, together with anatomical structure, dictates range
of motion, and range of motion in turn dictates the spatial forms the
moving body can create. It will be shown, through the analysis of Labans
figure drawings, that Laban was thoroughly conversant with classical
theories of proportion as perpetuated by late 19th-century academic art
training and used this knowledge to develop both his dance notation and
his choreutic theory, which addresses spatial aspects of dance design.
The impact of instantaneous photography on long-standing
conventions in the artistic depiction of human movement is the second
area to be discussed. These photos captured movements that could not
be seen by the human eye, provoking intense philosophical and artistic
debate and altering the way in which artists represented movement.
Reverberations of this debate can be detected in Labans writings on
dance and provide an underlying rationale for the dual perspectives
one analytic, the other wholistic that inform his theoretical work in
dance.
The final area to be discussed is Art Nouveau theory and practice.
There are only a handful of surviving works by Laban executed in what

63

could be called Art Nouveau style, and these all belong to his early
work as a visual artist. Later works do not superficially reveal any debt
to this style. Laban appears to have drawn upon his familiarity with Art
Nouveau more indirectly, appropriating design techniques and ideological
and theoretical positions. Significant concepts to be discussed include
the modernization of form, the theory of empathy, Art Nouveau techniques
of pattern generation, and the tension between biomorphic and geometrical
design elements.
Labans appropriation and adaptation of visual art theories and
practices became the foundation for his construction of dance theory.
This chapter explores the way Laban mobilized knowledge from one
field in the service of another.
Proportional Theories and Figure Drawing
Proportion has been defined in various ways. The Dictionary of Art
calls it the quantitative relationship of the parts of the human body to
each other and to the whole body.2 This follows the classic definition
put forth by Vitruvius: Proportion is a correspondence among the
measures of the members of an entire work, and of the whole to a certain
part selected as a standard.3 Lawlor expands this description as follows:
A proportion is formed from ratios, and a ratio is a comparison of two
different sizes, quantities, qualities, or ideas, and is expressed by the
formula a : b. A ratio then constitutes a measure of difference, a difference
to which at least one of our sensory faculties can respond.4
Other sources refer to proportion as an organizing feature, a
mathematical concept that has acquired great importance in the visual
arts, having supplied a set of norms corresponding to those of meter in
music and poetry. 5 Hogarth elaborates, noting that the canon of
proportions of the human figure is equivalent, so to speak, to the footrule in measurement, the axiom in geometry, the polestar in navigation.
It proclaims the universal human norm, the ideal criterion of discipline
in art.6 Critchlow takes the concept even further.
Proportion is both an idea and a reality. It is the significant
relationship between things, and therefore it is inherent in natural

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law, as we live in a cosmos a cosmos being a profound balance

between various forces, events and elements. Proportion in the
broadest sense is concerned with this balance, harmony and
relatedness between things: between body and mind, nature and
humanity, illusion and reality.7
Proportion, then, is a very broad subject, drawing upon mathematical
concepts of measurement and ratio to prescribe certain relationships of
part to whole in such a way that the resulting form is not only
representationally realistic but also beautiful as a unified whole. The
search for a proportional canon that can meet these criteria has occupied
artists since the time of ancient Egypt. Yet, despite such a long history of
development, there are only a handful of key theoreticians and theories
of proportion. From classical civilizations come Pythagoras, Polyclitus,
and Vitruvius; from the Middle Ages, the Byzantine and Gothic canons;
and from the Renaissance, Leonardo da Vinci and Albrecht Drer. The
use of geometrical schemas to assist the artist with the depiction of bodily
proportion and movement are common to all these theories. The Egyptian,
Byzantine, and Gothic approaches reduce the human figure to a twodimensional stylization. More realistic three-dimensional depictions are
found in Classical and Renaissance art. The theories underlying these
works are the ones most relevant to Labans adaptations for dance.
Classical and Renaissance Approaches. To achieve greater
faithfulness to the organic measure of the human figure and the visual
experience of three-dimensional space, Classical and Renaissance
approaches to proportion utilized whole number ratios. Pythagoras, the
famous Greek mathematician of the sixth century B.C., established the
basis of this approach. First, Pythagoras recognized that certain harmonies
known to the Greeks derived from a strings being divided into sections,
with strictly defined relationships between the lengths of the sections.
By so doing, he proved that the world of sound is governed by exact
numbers.8 He went on to do the same thing regarding the world of vision.
Pythagorass recognition that number underlies sound, space, and form
was applied by Polyclitus, a fifth-century B.C. Greek sculptor. Although
his canon has not survived, it is known to have been both fractional (based

65

on whole number ratios) and anthropometric (based upon actual

measurement of the human body). Consequently, it marked a significant
departure from the modular system used by Egyptian artists. As Panofsky
explains, when Polyclitus
described the proper proportion of finger to finger, finger to hand,
hand to forearm, forearm to arm and, finally, each single limb to
the entire body, this meant that the classical Greek theory of
proportions had abandoned the idea of constructing the body on
the basis of an absolute module, as though from small, equal
building blocks; it sought to establish relations between the
members, anatomically differentiated and distinct from each
other, and the entire body.9
The only canon surviving from the Classical period is that of Marcus
Vitruvius Pollio. Vitruvius was a Roman architect and engineer living in
the first century B.C. In his Ten Books on Architecture he described
principles of symmetry, harmony, and proportion in architecture. It was
in his chapter on temple architecture that the canon of human proportion
was introduced as the paradigm for the precise relations between members
that lead to a well-shaped human figure or a well-shaped building.
Vitruvius uses simple fractions to express these relationships. For
example, the head (from chin to crown) is 1/8 of the total length of the
body, from the pit of the throat to the hairline is 1/6, and so on.10
In addition to numerical ratios, geometric devices were employed to
study bodily proportion. For example Vitruvius describes how the body
may be inscribed in a circle and a square.
For if a man be placed flat on his back, with his hands and feet
extended, and a pair of compasses centered at his navel, the
fingers and toes of his two hands and feet will touch the
circumference of a circle described therefrom. And just as the
human body yields a circular outline, so too a square figure may
be found from it. For if we measure the distance from the soles
of the feet to the top of the head, and then apply that measure to
the outstretched arms, the breadth will be found to be the same

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as the height, as in the case of plane surfaces which are perfectly

square. 11
This geometic inscription can be seen in Leonardo da Vincis illustration
of Vitruviuss idea, as shown in Figure 3-1.
Figure 3-1. Leonardo: man
in circle and square.

Renaissance artists not only rediscovered the fractional and

geometrical approaches used by their Classical precursors, but also carried
proportional theory forward. Refinements in the techniques of rendering
in perspective, so as to create an illusion of depth, increased artists
sensitivity to problems of foreshortening in the representation of the
human body in motion. Foreshortening is problematic because, depending
on the spectators point of view, the characteristic shape and dimension
of a part or parts of the body can appear distorted. For example, a headon front view of the human body would not be considered foreshortened.12 If the viewpoint is not head-on, however, or if the body
itself is in motion, some foreshortening will occur. Artists were looking
for systematic ways to replicate these visual distortions.
Leonardo da Vinci is one of the prominent Renaissance artists who
tackled this problem. According to Panofsky,
he embarked upon a systematic investigation of those mechanical
and anatomical processes by which the objective dimensions of
the quietly upright human body are altered from case to case,
and thereby fused the theory of human proportions with a theory
of human movement. He determined the thickening of the joints

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while flexing or the expansion and contraction of the muscles

which attend the bending or stretching of the knee or elbow, and
ultimately managed to reduce all movement to a general principle
which may be described as the principle of continuous and
uniform circular motion.13
The study of proportion during the Renaissance culminated in the
work of the German painter Albrecht Drer, whose treatises on human
proportion were published posthumously in 1528.14 Drer reported that
he first learned about proportion from the Italian painter, Jacopo de
Barbari, who showed me how to construct a man and a woman based on
measurements. I was greatly fascinated by his skill and decided to master
it. But Jacobus, I noticed, did not wish to give me a clear explanation. So
I went ahead on my own and read Vitruvius.15 However, Drer departed
from the Vitruvian tradition of proportion in two important ways. First,
he studied proportions of different types of figures, male and female, as
well as children, with the consequence that there emerged from his work
no single canon of beauty.16 Secondly, Drer combined the study of
proportion with the study of perspective, working out his own approach
to the problem of foreshortening through the use of stereographic
techniques. In this approach, geometrical forms are superimposed on the
organic curves of the body. These simpler geometrical shapes can then
be tilted, rotated, etc. and redrawn in proper perspective to establish the
visible changes in proportion that arise when the body is posed in various
positions. In a way, Drers incorporation of geometric form in relation
to proportion resembled the work of the medieval French architect Villard
de Honnecourt. Villards approach superimposed shapes such as triangles
and pentagons on the human figure.17 As a result, the organic proportion
was somewhat deformed, but the system did successfully set contours
and directions of movement. However, Villards work only yielded two
dimensional representations while Drers system moved from flat to
solid shapes that allowed examination of foreshortening, facilitating
realistic three-dimensional depiction.
While Drers work can be seen as the pinnacle of Renaissance
proportion studies, it also marks its crisis. The impact of individual

68

differences and the almost infinite changes in foreshortening arising from

movement frustrated attempts to measure the body visually and to lay
down general rules guiding realistic proportional representation.
Nevertheless, how artists grappled with these problems is instructive.
As noted earlier, Leonardo combined the study of proportion and
anatomy to outline a theory of human movement. His reasoning went
something like this. Space is the medium in which movement occurs,
and space is a continuous quantity that is divisible ad infinitum. Similarly,
human action is also infinite, for every movement is a continuous
succession of phases.18 Since a circle is both infinite and continuous,
Leonardo perceived in the shape of the circle a correct pattern of
movement for the human body that gave it a second form, which became
visible in the circling movement round his own centre and that of his
limbs round their various joints.19 The treatise that Leonardo intended
to write on this theory of movement was never completed. However, his
ideas were sketched out in a methodical way by an unknown student in
the Codex Huygens (ca. 1570). Using a system of circles and epicycles
to represent the forms traced in space by the limbs of the moving body,
this student was able to portray figures enacting successive stages of
one and the same movement.20
The significance of Leonardos circular scheme can best be
understood in contrast to the ideas of Drer. The latters painstaking
efforts to rationalize movement in the same way he had tried to rationalize
proportion did not get beyond the systematic survey of various definite
stationary situations which, by ingenious geometrical methods, could be
transformed or rather converted into other no less definite and stationary
ones, with the very principle of transition left out.21 This led Drer to
attempt to facilitate the construction of unrestricted postures by dissecting
the whole figure into a number of units which were inscribed into such
simple stereometrical bodies as cubes, parallelepipeds and truncated
pyramids; by shifting these around in space any number of poses could
be produced in what may be called a synthetic fashion.22 However, Drer
seemingly could only conceive of movement as abrupt transformations
of crystallized poses, and his proportional theory stopped short of
progressing to a general theory for the representation of movement.23

69

While Leonardo and Drer pioneered practical techniques in

representing human movement that are still used, further developments
in proportional theory did not occur. Over the ensuing centuries, artistic
sensibilities shifted away from realistic depiction to emphasize the
subjective conception of the object in preference to the object itself.24
Nevertheless, the contrasting approaches of Leonardo and Drer provided
an analytic foundation for the representation of movement that Laban
subsequently utilized in his dance notation and theory.
Academic Influences. While practice in the field turned away from
anthropometric proportion and prescribed canons of human beauty, the
classical theories were preserved by the art academies that were formed
in the 16th century. These academies were organized as professional
institutions with a view to providing training, theoretical debate and
exhibiting opportunities.25 During the 17th century, the academic idea
spread through much of Western Europe, the most influential academy
being the Acadmie Royale de Peinture et de Sculpture, founded in Paris
in 1648. Its curriculum and educational methods were so widely followed
that the prescribed progress of drawing from drawings, drawing from
casts, and drawing from life formed, with local variations, the basis of
the training of artists in the European tradition until well into the 20th
century.26
Although the Acadmie Royale was disbanded during the French
Revolution, it was quickly replaced by the Acadmie des Beaux Arts,
which administered the cole des Beaux Arts as its school. This is, of
course, where Laban supposedly studied. The best testimony to Labans
familiarity with academic techniques of figural representation lies in his
drawings themselves. It can be seen that figures drawn by Laban adhere
almost obsessively to traditional proportional canons, methods of
foreshortening, and the use of strokes to delineate anatomical landmarks
and muscle groups. Labans proportion is always excellent, even if his
draftsmanship is not. Even in seemingly casual sketches, Laban had to
have been working carefully with a caliper or some other kind of measure
to keep the proportion correct.27

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Use of the Traditional Canon in Labans Figure Drawings

The canon explicated here is based upon the authors own practical
study of proportion and axial-skeletal drawing derived from the European
tradition of academic art training.28 The training begins with measuring a
skeleton, plaster casts, and male and female models to develop ratios for
parts of the body identified by various skeletal landmarks. From this
measuring and averaging of anatomical parts, the student is able to
rediscover and validate the anthropometric proportional canon as follows:
a) The face (from the mandible or jaw to the cranial apex or hairline)
is used as a standard, with other body parts represented as either
fractions or multiples of this unit.
b) The depth of the skull and the length of the skull are roughly
equal.
c) The sternum is one face length.
d) The rib cage is roughly 1 face lengths.
e) The clavicle is one face length, with the shoulder girdle being
about two face lengths wide.
f) The upper arm is 1 face lengths while the lower arm is just less
than 1 face lengths.
g) The hand is one face length.
h) The upper leg is two face lengths, while the lower leg is slightly
less than two face lengths.
i) The foot is one face length.
Understanding of these proportional relationships provides a
foundation. A further aspect of axial-skeletal technique involves using
skeletal landmarks to set, as well as to adjust, proportional relationships
for realistic foreshortening in various poses. Then the actual pencil strokes
delineating the figure are used economically, each stroke having a single
anatomical referent, usually that of the long axis of a muscle or muscle
group. Thus, axial-skeletal technique brings together knowledge of
anatomy, proportion, and movement.
Labans work in Figure 3-2 demonstrates his grasp of the concepts
underlying axial-skeletal technique. Here the crest of the ilium is indicated
by a small upside down V, a technique often used by artists to set certain
proportional landmarks. In this case, it is the measure from the iliac crest

71

a
b

Figure 3-2.
Anatomical study.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/3/14

NRCD.

to the greater trochanter of the thigh that is being set, a measure that
corresponds to one face length, even though Laban has not completely
sketched the face of this figure. Although the drawing technique is rough,
the strokes representing muscles are not drawn idiosyncratically, but are
oriented in very particular directions. For instance, the line indicating
the deltoid muscles of the upper arm (a) run along the muscles long
axis, as do the strokes delineating the latissimus dorsi muscles of the
back (b) and the gluteus muscles (c) as they wrap around the derriere.
Thus, these lines are carefully deployed to represent the axes of the
muscles to which they refer.
In Figure 3-3, basic proportional relationships are again observed in
Labans sketch. As noted by Leonardo da Vinci, from the sole of the
foot to the lower edge of the knee is one fourth part of man; from the
lower edge of the knee to the beginning of the penis is the fourth part of
the man.29 These ratios can be seen in Labans drawing. Moreover, Laban
follows Leonardos prescription that the foot is one seventh of the total
height, as is the distance from the top of the chest to the hairline. Thus,
the raised foot in Labans drawing corresponds in length with the neck
and the head. Similarly, the face and upper right arm have a standard

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proportional relationship of x to 1 x. In addition, even though the strokes

seem hasty and random, they actually follow the longitudinal axes of the
muscle groups. For example, note the strokes for the latissimus dorsi (a),
the gluteus muscles (b), the gracilis on the inner thigh (c), the
gastrocnemius on the upper back of the calf (d), and the tibialis anterior
(e) on the front of the calf.

a
b

Figure 3-3. Figure study.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/3/20 NRCD.

A more abstract version of this same pose is seen in Figure 3-4.

Although this figure drawing is highly stylized, the proportional ratios
are intact, and Laban continues to abide by the rule that each stroke have
a single anatomical referent. Along the contour of the right side of the
torso three strokes are used to represent the latissimus dorsi (a), the ribs
(b), and the external obliques (c). See, too, the long curve of the fascial
band along the thigh (d), as well as the two strokes rendering the inside
contours of the lower leg, revealing the gastrocnemius (e) and soleus (f).
Care is also taken in the rendering of the raised leg to indicate the patella
(g) and the kneeling point (h).30
Thus, Labans adherence to the classical proportional canon can be
seen in this sample of his figure drawings, which are all believed to have

73

a
Figure 3-4. Figure study
variation.
Rudolf Laban
Archive L/C/3/18
NRCD.

b
c
g
h

e
f
been drawn after 1938, when he was no longer an aspiring visual artist
but rather an established movement theorist. Although the drawings
themselves vary considerably in style and finesse of execution, the
adherence to the classical proportional canon attests to Labans early
academic art background. His continued allegiance to the canon, however,
points to its relevance for the study of movement. To repeat a point made
in the introduction of this chapter, anatomical structure and bodily
proportion dictate range of motion. Range of motion governs the shapes
that can be traced by the mover in the surrounding space. These shapes
are part of what must be captured in any form of dance notation. Any
exaggeration of proportion tends to deform the shape of the movement
being depicted visually. The shape of movement, or what Leonardo called
the second form of the human body, was what Laban was studying.
Consequently, it was important to Laban that bodily proportion be
rendered accurately.
The Impact of Instantaneous Photography
Despite technical advances during the Renaissance, the almost infinite
variety of human movements frustrated the efforts of artists to develop a

74

general theory. With the subsequent waning of interest in proportion as a

theory, the problem of depicting human movement realistically was also
sidelined. Certain representational conventions arose, particularly in
academic figure drawing, that were not challenged until the late 19th
century, when innovations in photographic techniques provided new
insight into human and animal motion. However, the earliest photographs
did not successfully capture movement, due to the extremely long
exposure times that were necessary. In order to get an image that was
clear, the subject had to hold still, and hold still for quite a while.
Consequently, when moving subjects were photographed, these subjects
tended to disappear. In early photographs of street scenes, the moving
people and objects became faint blurs, rendering a scene that seemed
somewhat uncanny in its appearance of being uninhabited.31
The first time moving subjects were successfully captured in motion
was in the stereoscopic street scenes produced in the 1850s and 1860s.
Improvements in exposure time, coupled with the fact that the camera
was placed at some distance from the scene, populated these street scenes
with clear images of moving figures for the first time. However, the
attitudes in which these moving subjects were captured aroused both
surprise and consternation. For example, the American doctor and writer
Oliver Wendell Holmes used stereoscopic street scenes to study human
walks, research meant to help him in designing artificial limbs for
American Civil War veterans. As Newhall notes, Holmes found the
attitudes in these pictures startlingly different from the conventions that
had been used for centuries.32 Like many early commentators, Holmes
was impressed by the contrast between painting and photography; what
the latter revealed, he felt, was the infinitely detailed traces of real things
unmediated by the artists editorial eye.33
If stereoscopic photos flaunted artistic conventions, then subsequent
systematic attempts to photograph animals and humans in motion proved
even more shocking. The first, and perhaps best known, such attempt
was the photographing of a trotting horse by Eadweard Muybridge. In
1872 Muybridge was hired by Leland Stanford, a wealthy American
railroad magnate, to photograph a trotting horse, supposedly to prove
Stanfords contention that the horse had all its feet off the ground during

75

a moment of the gait. However, Muybridges first attempts were not

successful, due partially to the very slow speed of the wet plates he had
to use. When Muybridge resumed work in 1877, he was assisted by John
D. Isaacs, one of Stanfords engineers. With a battery of cameras lined
up along a track and with special shutters operated either electrically or
by a clock, he [Isaacs] made it possible for Muybridge to take a whole
series of properly timed instantaneous pictures of the trotting horse.34
These photos were so successful that Stanford commissioned Muybridge
to photograph other animals in motion, including humans. By 1879, these
photographs of animals in motion were known throughout the civilized
world.35
Among those who became familiar with Muybridges work at this
time was the French physiologist Etienne-Jules Marey, who had himself
been studying both human and animal movement. The two men apparently
established contact after Marey saw Muybridges photos in the French
science journal, La Nature. Then, when Muybridge came to Paris to lecture
in 1881, his first public appearance was held in Mareys home.36 While
Mareys enthusiasm for Muybridges work was genuine, he also
recognized some technical flaws. For example, when Muybridges photos
were viewed in a zoetrope, the horse stayed in the same place and the
scenery ran by.37 Moreover, Muybridge did not keep the temporal interval
between snapshots equal. Muybridge could freeze the individual
moments in series, but he could not integrate the crucial variable of time.
His images were spatially distinct but temporally blurred.38
These difficulties spurred Marey to develop his own device, a
photographic gun, in 1882. This instrument allowed him to keep the time
between exposures roughly equivalent, resulting in multiple images of
an action on a single plate. Marey christened his invention
chronophotography.
Although his first experiments were somewhat disappointing, Marey
continued to work and to refine his techniques in various ways. He
clothed men in black, painted white lines along their arms and legs, and
had them run or walk against a black background while moving exposures
were made on the same plate.39 The result was a linear graph of the
motion of the arms and legs. Later, Marey devised a camera with a

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moving plate, so that each exposure was a separate picture.40 Like the
work of Muybridge, Mareys photos became well-known, being widely
published in his own books and in popular scientific journals of the day.
While Marey labored to perfect chronophotography, Muybridge was
hired by the University of Pennsylvania in 1883 to carry on his
photographic research on movement. This research resulted in multiple
volumes, most notably Animals in Motion (1887) and The Human Figure
in Motion (1901). Muybridge aimed with these studies to create an atlas
for the use of artists, a visual dictionary of human and animal forms in
action.41
Muybridge was assisted in his work at the University of Pennsylvania
by Thomas A. Eakins, a painter and master anatomist with a deep interest
in movement. Eakins experimented with instantaneous photography
himself, preferring, like Marey, multiple exposures on a single plate. It
was Eakinss contention that this approach allowed the sequence of
movement to be followed more easily by relating one shape to another
throughout the entire action. Eakinss interest perhaps led Muybridge to
anticipate a great demand by artists who would substitute photographs
for live models.42 However, the reaction of the rest of the art world to
what instantaneous photos revealed about human and animal movement
was much more mixed.
Artistic Reactions to Instantaneous Photographs. Shortly after
Muybridges lecture at the home of Marey, a second soiree for the
photographer was held by Ernest Meissonier, a well-known French
historic painter and expert on the horse. Two hundred luminaries of French
cultural life attended the gathering, and Muybridges appearance caused
an overnight sensation. His photographs were hailed as conclusive proof
that all four hooves left the ground during gallop, and his zoetropic device
signaled the first dramatic example of the photographic synthesis of
movement.43 Meissonier himself was not so enthusiastic about
Muybridges photos, as they showed errors in his own painted portrayal
of horses. Nevertheless, Meissonier based all his later work on
photographic findings. 44 Other artists were also quick to adjust
conventional methods of portraying the horse in motion. For example,
the American painter Frederic Remington, is known to have adopted a

77

mode of representing a horse in motion that bore a remarkable

resemblance to a Muybridge photo.45
However, Muybridges work met with disbelief as well. The
photographer Paul Henry Emerson found nothing more inartistic than
some position of a galloping horse, such as are never seen by the eye, but
yet exist in reality, and have been recorded by Mr. Muybridge.46 Others
argued similarly, proclaiming that instantaneous photos were untrue and
artistically incorrect when portraying men and animals in strange
attitudes that could only be seen if the scene were illuminated by a flash
of lightning.47 Thus, what could be seen as an asset that instantaneous
photographs revealed what normal vision could not perceive in rapid
movement was also seen as a liability by some artists and even some
photographers. How valid was it, they asked, to paint a pose or to preserve
an attitude that the eye could not even perceive?
From this question, another objection was raised having to do with
whether or not the instantaneous photos really transmitted an image of
movement. As Daval observes, the photographs were scientifically accurate and went beyond the limits of optical perception, revealing what the
human eye is incapable of grasping; but they produced a curiously static
impression. [L]ifted from the context of its before and after moments,
the snapshot may be disconcerting.48 In this sense, the disruption of the
natural flow of action actually destroyed the impression of movement.
The sculptor Auguste Rodin is known to have reacted strongly to
this aspect of instantaneous photography. For example, in one
conversation with Rodin, the writer Paul Gsell commented that when an
artist portrays movement so as to contradict the mechanical accuracy of
photography, he evidently alters truth. No, replied Rodin, it is the
artist who is truthful and it is photography which lies, for in reality time
does not stop, and if the artist succeeds in producing the impression of
movement which takes several moments for accomplishment, his work
is certainly much less conventional than the scientific image, where time
is abruptly suspended.49
The basis of Rodins objections to the static quality of instantaneous
photos of movement is made clearer by his definition of movement as
the transition from one attitude to another.50 Whether in sculpture or in

78

painting, what the artist sees in a movement is its transformation and

displacement. To capture the quality of this movement, the artist restores
its continuity on canvas, pieces together the sequence of moments which
recreate movement in its continuity.51 This is what Rodin claims is done
in sculpture.
The sculptor compels, so to speak, the spectator to follow the
development of an act in an individual. In the example that we
have chosen [i.e., Francois Rudes 1853 statue of Marshall Ney]
the eyes are forced to travel upward from the lower limbs to the
raised arm, and, as in so doing they find the different parts of the
figure represented at successive instants, they have the illusion
of beholding the movement performed.52
Rodin also illustrated this point with his own sculpture of St. John.
The figure appears to be vigorously striding, yet both feet are on the
ground. As Rodin points out, an instantaneous photo of a model making
the same movement would have one leg off the ground, but such a position
gives the appearance of a man suddenly stricken with paralysis and
petrified. Rodin explains this appearance of paralysis in the following
way: if . . . in instantaneous photographs, the figures, though taken while
moving, seem suddenly fixed in midair, it is because, all parts of the
body being reproduced exactly at the same twentieth or fortieth of a
second, there is not progressive development of movement as there is in
art.53
Daval points out that Muybridge and Marey were conscious of the
curiously static impression their work produced, so much so that they
devised independently, a systematic montage of snapshots in order to
transcribe movement.54 These devices, of course, were among the
forerunners of cinematogaphy.55
Influence of Instantaneous Photography on Avant-Garde Artists.
Reaction in the artistic world did not divide itself merely into admirers
and detractors, into those who imitated new views of movement in their
representational work versus those who ignored photographic evidence.
A third group of various avant-garde artists responded to scientific photos,
not for the advantages they offered for correcting conventional

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representation, but for the new kinds of images they introduced. These
groups included the Cubists, Futurists, and Dadaists: those movements
in modern art which, taking advantage of the freedom offered by the
fragmentation of the perceptual image, proceeded to evolve forms of art
determined by either the imagination or the fancy.56
Among these movements, the Futurists were the most overt in their
focus on movement. The 1910 Futurist Painting: Technical Manifesto
proclaimed that all things move and change and this dynamism is what
the artist should strive to represent.57 As Read points out, an emphasis
on dynamism began with the Impressionists, but they never solved the
problem of representing movement in painting and sculpture. In contrast
the Futurist solution was somewhat naive: a galloping horse, they said,
had not four feet but twenty, and their motion is triangular. They therefore
painted horses, or dogs, or human beings, with multiple limbs in serial or
radial arrangement.58 Whether naive or not, it was clear that some of the
Futurists drew their inspiration from the work of Marey. For example,
some of Giacomo Ballas paintings were almost literal transcriptions of
these photographs.59
Another artist who drew inspiration from Mareys images was Marcel
Duchamp, whose Nude Descending a Staircase (1912) is known to have
been inspired by chronophotography.60 Read notes that the artist himself
explained that Nude is not really a painting: it is an organization of
kinetic elements, an expression of time and space through the abstract
presentation of motion.61 Indeed, as regards capturing movement in
painting, Read gives Cubism, Futurism, and Dadaism a mixed review:
In so far as they attempted to represent motion, these pioneers were to
be overtaken by the cinematograph; their paintings remain plastic symbols
for motion rather than representations of motion.62
Both Futurism and Dadaism ultimately turned away from painting
with its virtual representation of movement, focusing instead on the actual
incorporation of movement in performance art or cinematography.63
However, one artist associated with the Italian Futurists was notable for
his experimental representations of movement, namely Anton Giulio
Bragaglia. In 1911 he first began producing photographic images of
movement, for which he coined the phrase, Photodynamism. The

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official debut of Photodynamism occurred slightly later, with the

publication of his manifesto in an Italian newspaper in 1913. Bragaglia
claimed that Photodynamism was a new art form, distinct from both
painting and photography; he specifically dissociated it from
chronophotography and cinematography as well. In Bragaglias opinion
chronophotography could be compared to a clock on the face of which
only the half-hours are marked and cinematography to one on which the
minutes too are indicated.64 Both of these mechanical media scanned and
broke up the movement, shattering the action.
Photodynamism, on the other hand, marked not only the seconds,
but also the intermomental fractions existing in the passages between the
seconds.65 Consequently, the photodynamic pictures aimed to evoke the
sensation of movement by capturing its continuity. The effect was achieved
through long exposure while the subject moved. This resulted in multiple
images of the figure, as in the work of Marey and Eakins, but with the
addition of a kind of blurring of the moving body parts, which served to
link up each successive phase of the overall movement.66 The images,
usually of a single subject, fell into two groups. There were figures
carrying out specific actions, such as typing or sawing, along with images
of transitional actions, such as rising from a chair, walking, bowing, etc.
Bragaglia himself made much of transitional moments and his photos
represent an interesting complement to the painters attempts to capture
the essence rather than the appearance of movement.67
Bragaglias work establishes a countertension to other instantaneous
photographs. Muybridge and Marey exploited what the camera could
do, revealing aspects of human and animal movement never before seen,
ostensibly for scientific purposes. Their works provoked two antithetical
reactions within the art world. On the one hand, some artists embraced
the unique views of action provided by the photographs and incorporated
this new realism into their paintings. Other artists rejected the
photographic images, preferring to express movement rather than
demonstrate it. The attitudes the latter artists gave their figures may never
have existed, but they are the more convincing because they translate as
actual time-sequences. 68 Bragaglia, identifying with the Futurist
emphasis on dynamism, pursued the evocation of movement through

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photographic means. But unlike the Futurist painters, he was not content
to simply replicate the fractured images of chronophotography. Rather,
Bragaglias work critiques the images of instantaneous photography by
pointing out what is missing transition and continuity. His emphasis
on this omission parallels the philosophical discussion that also
surrounded these instantaneous views of movement.
From Photograph to Mental Image: Bergsons Philosophy of
Movement
At the center of the philosophical discussion of movement and change
was the French writer Henri Bergson, the most popular and most widely
translated philosopher of his day.69 His lectures at the Collge de France,
where Marey was a colleague, became so crowded that a larger room
had to be found to hold the overflow.70 With an audience that cut across
disciplines, radiating far beyond academic and literary circles,71 Bergson
seemed to have opened an outlook for which his age had been thirsting.72
And what was that outlook? Bergson himself acknowledged that a
philosopher worthy of his name has never said more than a single thing.73
According to Masur, change was, for Bergson, the one single thing.74
By centering his ruminations on the experience of change in contrast
with the conceptualization of change, Bergson had to grapple with space,
time, and movement. He returned to these subjects over and over again
in his writings. It is in such discussions that Bergsons views on
instantaneous photography can be detected, for, as Rabinbach noted,
Bergsons colleague Marey is often invoked though rarely mentioned
by name.75
For example, in Creative Evolution, Bergson proposes to portray the
marching past of a regiment. Now, one could attempt this portrayal by
constructing little jointed figures, Bergson suggests. But such puppets
would scarcely reproduce the suppleness of live marching. Alternatively,
one could take a series of snapshots of the passing regiment and project
these instantaneous views rapidly one after another, as in cinematography.
Bergson concedes that this would reconstitute the mobility of the marching
group. However, he goes on to note that if we had to do with the
photographs alone, however much one might look at them we should

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never see them animated: with immobility set beside immobility, even
endlessly, we could never make movement. 76 In other words,
instantaneous photography and cinematography take a flowing movement
sequence and break it apart into snapshots. If these frozen attitudes can
be mechanically reanimated, they will give an illusion of movement.
However, real movement is something altogether different.
Bergson illustrates his analysis of why instantaneous photography
(or cinematography) fails to be truly mobile and lifelike with an example
in Matter and Memory. He proposes to move his hand from point A to
point B, noting, my consciousness gives me the inward feeling of a
single fact, for in A was rest, in B there is again rest, and between A and
B is placed an indivisible or at least an undivided act, the passage from
rest to rest, which is movement itself.77
On the other hand, as the movement traverses space, it inscribes a
line AB and this line, like all space, may be indefinitely divided, Bergson
admits.78 However, if the movement along this line is then represented as
successive positions lying along this line, a series of imaginary halts are
substituted for a flowing and indivisible whole. What Bergson goes on to
point out is that this conceptual model of movement is incongruent with
our lived experience of movement. We know movement as a flowing,
indivisible whole, but we think of it as a series of immobile positions,
infinitely divisible. In other words, our intellect seems to work on the
flowing wholeness of lived experience very much like a camera works
on movement.
Moreover, just as photography and cinematography break up the
spatial coherence of movement, they also disrupt its temporal continuity,
segmenting the enduring wholeness of time into separate moments. When
the snapshot-taking mind is focused on temporal change, the
understanding breaks it up into successive and distinct states, supposed
to be invariable.79 This view neglects the fact that these states are
themselves changing and that each is related to its predecessor and its
successor not as externally related things, but as interpenetrating linked
experiences.80 This inability to perceive movement as an indivisible
transition and time as a continuum of flowing change leads to a
misapprehension of the essence of life. As Bergson points out, it is not

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the states, single snapshots we have taken once again along the course
of change, that are real; on the contrary, it is flux, the continuity of
transition, it is change itself that is real.81
Consequently, Bergson adds an interesting conceptual dimension to
the problem of representing movement, particularly as that problem is
illuminated by instantaneous photography. What Bergson recognizes in
these snapshots is a metaphor for how the intellect handles movement
and change. His critique of chronophotography demonstrates that the
snapshots will not serve the scientific study of movement because both
space and time have been broken apart and consequently the indivisible
continuity of movement that is its essence has been lost. In these
juxtaposed views one has a substitute for time and movement, he
concedes, but time and movement are something else.82 Ontologically
speaking, Bergsons critique is more far-reaching, for it is this very
snapshot-taking aspect of the mind that interferes in the apprehension of
a reality in which everything flows, everything endures and changes, and
life is mobility itself. But unless one can reverse the normal direction of
the workings of thought through intuition, one will not be able to grasp
this.83
In Bergsons view, then, movement (and, by extension, being itself)
may be known in two ways: intellectually and intuitively. In the first
case, the mind works analytically, approaching the movement event from
outside, like a camera. The representation of movement that arises from
this kind of knowing is like that of instantaneous photos: movement
becomes a series of positions and its temporal duration becomes a string
of moments corresponding to each of the positions. While not a very
dynamic or lifelike representation, this manner of conceptualizing is
unavoidable when one needs to think about movement so as to act on it.
As Bergson describes, there is, between our body and other bodies, an
arrangement like that of the pieces of glass that compose a kaleidoscopic
picture. Our activity goes from an arrangement to a rearrangement, each
time no doubt giving the kaleidoscope a new shake, but not interesting
itself in the shake and seeing only the new picture.84
Intuition, on the other hand, knows the movement from within, as a
continuous whole traversing space and flowing through time. In fact,

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what distinguishes intuitive knowing from intellectual knowing for

Bergson is the apprehension of time, not as a spatialized series of
moments, but as an uninterrupted continuity that flows, connecting past,
present, and future, much as a melody takes its being from individual
notes but links them into an indivisible whole that is the tune itself.
Intuition is the means through which one recognizes that movement is
reality itself.85 The image of movement that one grasps intuitively is not
a snapshot-like view but one of a flowing continuity fluctuating
endlessly.86
Bergsonian Reverberations in Labans Choreutic Theory and
Notation
Many echoes of Bergson will also be found in the introduction to
Labans posthumously published treatise, Choreutics.87 For example,
Laban refers to the snapshot-like perception of the mind which is able
to receive only a single phase of the uninterrupted flux, noting that the
sum of such snapshots is, however, not yet the flux itself.88 As for the
omnipresent reality of movement, Laban notes that today we are perhaps
still too accustomed to understanding objects as separate entities, standing
in stabilized poses side by side in empty space. Externally, it may appear
so, but in reality continuous exchange and movement are taking place.
Not for a moment do they come to a complete standstill, since matter
itself is a compound of vibrations.89 These particular observations closely
parallel those of Bergson in Matter and Memory. There Bergson points
out that it is useful to fix a thing at a precise point, establishing a clear
limit, and making action something separate from the thing. Nevertheless,
there is a different reality hidden beneath such arbitrary images, for even
the solidity and the inertia of atoms dissolve either into movements or
into lines of force.90
The way in which Laban describes space is also very similar to
Bergsons characterization. Bergson argues that space is not a fixed,
homogeneous ground onto which movement is posited, rather it is real
motion that deposits space beneath itself.91 Laban similarly argues for
an interdependent relationship between space and movement: we must
not look at the locality simply as an empty room, separated from

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movement, nor at movement as an occasional happening only ... space is

a hidden feature of movement and movement is a visible aspect of
space.92 Thus, various observations in Labans introduction to his treatise
on Choreutics strongly reflect an intuitive view of movement that can be
seen as Bergsonian, for Laban affirms that movement is a continuous
flux, an omnipresent part of life, and interdependent with a space that is
not empty but alive with the uninterrupted waxing and waning of things
in motion.
Nevertheless, Labans observations also reflect a Bergsonian
recognition that a snapshot view of movement is of practical use. Noting
that a movement makes sense only if it progresses organically, Laban
goes on to assert that it is, therefore, essential to find out the natural
characteristics of the single phases which we wish to join together in
order to create a sensible sequence.93 In other words, Laban is suggesting
that the snapshot-like perception of the mind can be utilized to study
movement, to compare individual phases within a movement, and to
ascertain the natural order governing the sequencing of motions as
they organically develop in space.94
Bergson, of course, points out that when this snapshot-like perception
is focused on movement, the temporal experience is translated into a
geometrical form, typically a line seemingly traced by the moving body
on the space surrounding the body. Laban does not take issue with this
observation; he simply appropriates it. Movement, writes Laban, is made
up of pathways tracing shapes in space, and these we may call traceforms.95 Notation makes use of trace-forms to record movement
sequences. Directional symbols break the flowing action apart,
representing single spatial appearances along the definite path of
the movement.96 Through this sequence of snapshots, the flowing unity
of the movement may then be reconstructed from the notated score.
Thus it can be seen that Labans allegiance to Bergson is twofold
he affirms the continuously flowing nature of movement but he is not
loathe to make use of the instantaneous photographic views by which
mental perception divides the flux and makes it available for analysis,
documentation, and reconstruction.

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Space, Time, and Proportional Theory in Labans Combination

Drawings
Bergson complained that when movement is depicted as a line in
space, it loses the temporal dimension of dynamic development and
continuity. Laban was obviously sensitive to this problem. His
combination drawings, which portray dancers surrounded by geometrical
forms, provide insight into how he grappled with this issue. To begin
with, an analogy may be drawn between these works and Rodins
sculptural approach. Rodins approach, it may be recalled, consisted in
compelling the viewer to follow the development of an action within the
sculpted figure itself. Various phases of a movement were transcribed
onto different parts of the sculpted body. The viewers eye was then
directed, through compositional means, along a line through the sculpted
form that followed the temporal development of the action. Thus the
viewer perceived the progression of the action, and in this way an illusion
of movement was created.
Laban employs a similar strategy in his combination drawings, but
with this difference. The progressive stages of the movement are not
represented by different parts of the figures body. Rather, the temporal
unfolding of the movement is projected onto the space around the body
and represented by the trace-form. For example, in Plate K a dancer is
depicted stepping onto the right leg and reaching forward while the left
leg extends backwards in balanced countertension. The figural pose
simply represents one phase of this action, while the trace-form
surrounding the figure maps the ongoing sequence of movements that
will follow this first step. Presumably the dancer can continue from the
depicted starting position by tracing the design that hangs in the air around
her body.
Labans choice of an angular form to represent the sequential
development of this movement is of further interest, because it
demonstrates his creative amalgamation of techniques developed by
Leonardo da Vinci and Albrecht Drer. In his attempt to depict the moving
figure realistically, Leonardo da Vinci had theorized a second form of
the human body that could be visualized as the trajectories of the limbs
around their joints. He conceived these trajectories as circular forms

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projected on the space around the body. These circles were to be used to
cope with problems of foreshortening, and can still be found in the figure
drawing manuals of today. Drer developed a different approach to the
problem of foreshortening, one that is also still used today. He
experimented with inscribing stereometric solids onto parts of the figure
itself. These solids could be tilted and rotated in space to construct poses
and calculate appropriate foreshortenings, then reconverted to the
biomorphic shapes of the human figure.
Laban seems to have integrated these two approaches in his
combination drawings. The stereometric approach of Drer is
appropriated, but not applied to the figure itself. Rather, the solids are
projected onto the space around the body, as Leonardo proposed, and
used to describe, in spatial terms, the temporal progression of the
movement. Clearly Laban was aware, like Leonardo, that bodily
movement predominantly inscribes curves on the surrounding space.
However, in order to record a movement, these curves must be related to
some kind of directional referencing system. This is where Drers solid
geometrical forms became useful to Laban. Platonic solids like the cube,
octahedron, and icosahedron partition three-dimensional space in a regular
way, and their corners can be used as reference points for mapping
movement pathways. When movement is mapped within a geometrical
geography, the resulting angles of the trace-forms impose a rhythmic
structure on the flowing curves of bodily motion through regularly
occurring changes in direction. This is why Laban represents trace-forms
as polygons, or, as he puts it, circles in which there is spatial rhythm, as
distinct from time rhythm.97
An additional rationale for Labans use of a geometrical geography
to represent movement arises from his observations of the congruence
between range of motion and the angles of polyhedral forms. Laban notes
that anatomically it has been shown that the body and its limbs can be
moved only in certain restricted areas . . . which we called zones of the
limbs. In these [zones] the moving limbs describe certain angles of
rotations and flexion. The size of the angle is determined by the individual
structure of the joints.98 Laban goes on to detail the range of motion of
various parts of the body, then compares these biological measurements

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with the measurement of various geometrical angles found in the Platonic

solid known as the icosahedron. Laban finds the angles of the icosahedron
and the angles of limb movement to be equal or in a ratio of 1:2 or 2:1
a proportional correspondence he describes as quite astonishing.99
Laban also points out that various Golden Section ratios found in the
icosahedron parallel Golden Section ratios found in the human body.100
He chose the icosahedron as the preferred stereometric projection for
mapping trace-forms because of its kinship with the proportions of the
human form and the range of motion of various limbs. While it occupies
a position of particular significance, the icosahedron was not the only
stereometric solid that Laban projected onto the kinesphere and used for
mapping trace-forms. All the other Platonic solids tetrahedron, cube,
octahedron, and dodecahedron were used at least experimentally. Of
these, the cube and the octahedron proved to be particularly useful as
systems of reference for recording dance.
While any movement consists of an infinite number of positions along
a trajectory in space, some of these positions seem to be more salient to
the mover and viewer than others. Bergson described this phenomenon
in the following way.
Of the gallop of a horse our eye perceives chiefly a characteristic,
essential or rather schematic attitude, a form that appears to
radiate over a whole period and so fill up a time of gallop. It is
this attitude that sculpture has fixed on the frieze of the Parthenon.
But instantaneous photography isolates any moment; it puts them
all in the same rank, and thus the gallop of a horse spreads out
for it into as many successive attitudes as it wishes, instead of
massing itself into a single attitude, which is supposed to flash
out in a privileged moment and to illuminate a whole period.101
In other words, not only does our mental process break the flowing
unity of a movement sequence into snapshots, it also accentuates and
emphasizes certain snapshots more than others. Thus the memory
condenses an image of the movement into a few characteristic poses or
attitudes. Muybridges work may be seen to have first revealed this
privileging of certain moments, because his pictures startled artists,

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physiologists, and many others, for they showed that the conventional
representations of motion, such as a horse running, a man walking, or an
athlete vaulting, were composites on the brain of the observer.102
Laban also seemed to have been aware of this privileging of certain
moments.
This flux of time can, therefore, be understood as an infinite
number of changing situations. Since it is absolutely impossible
to take account of each infinitesimal part of movement we are
obliged to express the multitude of situations by some selected
peaks within the trace-form which have a special quality. The
most characteristic, of course, are those which strike us by their
spatial appearance, but we must remain aware of the fact that
those selected for description are connected with one another by
numberless transitory positions.103
This observation raises the question of how such selected peaks and
privileged moments are to be chosen from among the numberless
transitory positions. This is where Labans choice of polygons rather
than circles to represent trace-forms becomes important. While Laban
certainly translates a movement in time as a line in space, he does not
then break that line by an arbitrary temporal unit, as in a
chronophotograph. Instead, he divides the line of the movement into
regular spatial intervals. By so doing, Laban creates polygonal tracings
that are rhythmic. The regular changes of direction at set distances, marked
by the angles in the form, accentuate certain spatial appearances. For
example, Laban based his system of spatial orientation on the cardinal
directions: up/down, right/left, and forward/backward. Laban perceived
these directions to be accentuated in the five positions of classical ballet,
which have been handed down in the oral tradition of dance instruction
as the simplest means of spatial orientation in the art of dance.104 If
these directional points are situated around the dancers body and
connected by surface lines, an octahedral scaffolding results. Rhythmic
circles traced within this scaffolding will accentuate the cardinal directions
and the characteristic attitudes associated with classical ballet forms.

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In Labans combination drawings, the numberless transitory

positions are still visible in the continuous line of the trace-form, but
the peaks, privileged moments, and characteristic attitudes can
also be captured. This makes Labans work much more like the images
captured by Bragaglia, where discrete positions of the moving figure are
made to flow together through the blurring of the intermomental passages.
Still, this may be begging the point. From a Bergsonian perspective,
movement exists in space and time. Any visual representation, existing
in space alone, appears destined to lose the dimension of time. But there
must be some way to represent movement so that time, too, is integrated,
just as the convention of perspective has come to be accepted as a
convincing representation of deep space, even though the third dimension
is actually missing.
Laban resolved the problem of the representation of time in his
notation system by the simple means of adjusting the length of symbols
to indicate the duration of the actions for which they stood. This integrated
quantitative time into the graphic symbol system Laban invented. On the
other hand, time in dance is not merely a quantity; it also possesses
rhythmic qualities that are roughly analogous to descriptive terms in music
such as staccato, legato, forte, pianissimo, etc. Laban developed a rich
descriptive taxonomy addressing these rhythmic dynamics. These
descriptive terms and their symbolic representation have never been
integrated entirely successfully into the Labans dance notation, however.
Indeed, Laban appears to have believed that detailed recording of the
spatial form and metric duration of bodily actions provided a sufficient
representation of movement, one from which the dynamic rhythms could
be extrapolated. The basis of this belief can perhaps be traced to ideas
about the interrelationship of form and dynamics that were promulgated
by the Art Nouveau theorists who dominated discourse about art during
Labans years as a visual artist.
Art Nouveau and the Modernization of Form
As noted in Chapter 1, Art Nouveau was an international movement
that swept across Europe during the fin-de-sicle period (circa 1890
1914). While the French terms for new art have been applied to the

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movement as a whole, Art Nouveau consisted of a number of local

variations and designations. In Vienna, it was known as Secession Style;
in Great Britain, Arts and Crafts; in Germany, Jugendstil; in Spain,
Modernista; and in Italy, Stile Floreale. To further complicate matters,
Art Nouveau as a label refers not only fine and decorative arts, but also
to literature, theatre, and dance. Art Nouveau style can be perfectly
embodied in the single objet dart or it can be a cohesive, integrated
ensemble of construction and decoration.105 Despite these ambiguities,
the prevalence and wide circulation of various publications devoted to
Art Nouveau, the possibility for artists to display their work at
international exhibitions, and the opportunity for designers of one nation
to find wealthy patrons in another ensured wide dissemination of ideas,
theories, and stylistic examples.106 This has led Howard to observe that,
Art Nouveau is not a singular style but a movement in which certain
formal characteristics recur and certain ideologies are expressed.107
Ideology unites the various manifestations of the Art Nouveau
movement perhaps more obviously than stylistic features. As Greenhalgh
observes, Art Nouveau was the first self-conscious, internationally based
attempt to transform visual culture through a commitment to the idea of
the modern. 108 This commitment to modernity was based upon
recognition that the material conditions of European life had altered
radically during the 19th century. If art was to find a role in these altered
circumstances, theorist Meier-Graefe argued, art itself must change.109
It was clear that modern objects needed to look modern; the question
was how to achieve this.
The initial response was to reject old art; that is, to turn away from
the Classical and Renaissance models that had become dominant through
their promulgation and institutionalization by the art academies. This
rejection had stylistic implications. Hard-won techniques of achieving
the illusion of three-dimensionality were abandoned, as was the insistence
that the artists job is to reproduce visual reality. Rather than rehash what
had already been done, Art Nouveau artists searched for new sources of
inspiration and new modes of depiction. If art were to be a part of
contemporary life, then the ordinary objects of everyday life had to be
transformed into works of art that were within economic reach of the

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common household. This led to a variety of artistic initiatives. Attempts

were made to soften the division between applied and fine arts, to raise
standards of public taste, and to utilize industrial means of production.
Art Nouveau as a movement was egalitarian and visionary. By creating a
harmonious ensemble of equal arts, the artists and designers aimed to
transform European life.110
This transformational movement was spearheaded by practitioners
of the decorative arts, for it was the illustrators, bookbinders, furniture
makers, fabric designers, jewelers, glass makers, architects, and interior
decorators whose explorations opened new stylistic horizons and
established the formal characteristics associated with Art Nouveau. These
artists looked for new sources of inspiration and found them in nature
and in exotic decorative pattern. They explored design possibilities of
stylization, working with flat surfaces, exploiting the interplay of
foreground and background, and creating pattern and ornament through
the skillful use of line. In the hands of these artists, sinuous, sensuous,
serpentine... line defined fluid, attenuated forms, played over surfaces,
and created abstract pattern.111
While the examination of nature provided visual motifs for the Art
Nouveau artist, the study of antique and non-European forms of
ornamentation provided insight into how to generate decorative patterns.
Sourcebooks of both types were mined by designers and led to two
approaches one characterized by an emphasis on recognizable organic
forms; the other, by an emphasis on abstract line.112 This distinction is
one of degree, not kind, as both approaches utilize stylization. Even when
an organic form is recognizable, its shape typically has been streamlined,
flattened, its curves or angles enhanced, its symmetry or asymmetry
exaggerated, and the pattern made more rhythmic through the repetition
of elements. This process is simply continued in more abstract designs
until the organic form that may have provided initial inspiration is
abstracted to the extent that it can no longer be identified clearly. Through
these design processes, Art Nouveau artists escaped from the bonds of
realistic depiction, and pioneered techniques that led to the development
of abstract art. Many significant Art Nouveau artists added literary works
to their artistic creations.113 These works, along with discussions taking

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place in psychology and aesthetics at that time, provided a theoretical

underpinning for the transformation of visual culture that Art Nouveau
artists hoped to realize.
Empathy, Expression, and Abstraction
During the latter part of the 19th century, developments in the
psychological understanding of perception and cognition gave rise to
new aesthetic theories. One of the most influential was the concept of
empathy. The German aesthetician Robert Vischer was the first to
introduce the term empathy into modern aesthetics, using the term to
describe the way in which we are able to project our feelings into the
objects we perceive, thereby establishing a subjective, animate relation
to the phenomenal world.114
In relation to the perception of objects of art, Vischer is sometimes
seen to base his empathic projection on the physiological sensation of
movement given by the eyes as their gaze roams. However, Vischers
concept of empathy seems to rest as much on imaginary movement as on
actual movement: I transpose myself as a sensible and intellectual subject
into the inner being of the object and explore its formal character from
within This kind of transposition can take a motor or sensitive form,
even when it is concerned with lifeless or motionless forms. I can imagine
to myself that this pine tree is about to move, or has just now been moving;
I can entertain the thought of shooting up into space with it like a rocket.115
What is significant for this discussion is Vischers interjection of the
body of the observer and its movement (both actual and imaginary) into
a theory of aesthetic form. This theme was carried forward by the eminent
German psychologist and aesthetician Theodor Lipps. Lipps was
interested in how art communicated meaning. He hypothesized that
meaning did not reside in the physical art object itself, but was to be
found in the empathic relationship forged between viewer and object.116
The Swiss art critic Heinrich Wlfflin also addressed this relationship in
his Prolegomena to a Psychology of Architecture (1886). Wlfflin asks
how it is possible that architectural forms are able to express a feeling or
mood. His answer goes beyond that of Vischer, for Wlfflin refuses to
conceptualize empathy as a response based solely on vision, noting that

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the architectural impression, far from being some kind of reckoning by

the eye is essentially based on a direct bodily feeling.117 Wlfflin argues
that the elements of architecture material and form, gravity and force
make sense to us because of our own physical experiences. That is,
physical forms possess a character only because we ourselves possess a
body. Moreover, our own bodily organization is the form through which
we apprehend everything physical.118
The theory of empathy, then, opens the way for an aesthetic
subjectivity which is based upon bodily identification of the viewer with
formal qualities in the art object. Meaning is not grounded in the extent
to which an objet dart resembles the object depicted. Rather, the potential
for meaning resides in the formal qualities of the mode of presentation,
which are of necessity more general and more abstract. This potential is
released through the empathic identification of the observer with these
formal qualities. This identification is possible because the viewer and
the objet dart coexist in the same ground of being in which the observers
experiences of pressure and countertension, tempo, balance and imbalance
can be related to similar qualities embedded in the work of art. Because
the theory of empathy encouraged artists to look beyond the surface of
the object to its more intrinsic characteristics, it became an important
conceptual tool in the Art Nouveau artists search for new and dynamic
forms.
The influence of this concept is quite obvious in the work and writings
of Jugendstil artists Hermann Obrist and his younger associate, August
Endell. Obrist was well situated to work in a style that drew its inspiration
from nature, for his initial field of study was botany. After abandoning
botany for art, Obrist studied ceramics briefly, then trained as a sculptor
at the Acadmie Julian in Paris before moving to Florence to set up an
embroidery studio. Exhibitions of this work in 1896 established Obrist
as pioneer of the new art. As Greenhalgh describes, Obrists
embroideries evoke rather than imitate nature, they float in space as
tense, vibrant, and flame-like designs.119
Indeed, Obrists own writings reveal a fascination with movement,
demanding dynamic energies and rhythm not only of objects in motion
but also of stable heavy masses.120 In Obrists designs, roots, stems, and

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flowers were subject to whiplash-like contortions and spiral motifs.

Similarly, his students were admonished to understand natural objects as
images full of expressive forces, full of linear, plastic, constructive
movements of unprecedented abundance and astonishing variety.121
These ideas proved to be attractive to August Endell. Endell had
studied philosophy and psychology with Theodor Lipps in Munich. A
chance meeting with Obrist, however, turned his aspirations toward art.
He rapidly established himself as a designer and architect. Together with
Obrist, Endell became an eloquent advocate for Jugendstil, evoking the
theory of empathy as a way toward a new art: Though a circle may
recall a ring and thereby elicit an association with faithfulness and eternity,
that has nothing to do with the immediate power of the form itself.122
Instead of seeing forms as realistic representations or as symbols, Endell
proposed a completely new approach, a Formkunst or form art. This would
be an art with forms which signify nothing, represent nothing and remind
us of nothing, which arouse our souls as deeply and strongly as music
has always been able to do.123
Endell then went on to spell out the empathic reactions aroused by
various kinds of lines. Straight and curved lines, narrow and wide lines,
short and long lines, and the direction of the line were all correlated with
various sensations and qualities. As Weiss outlines Endells thesis, length
or shortness of a line are functions of time, while the thickness and thinness
are functions of tension in Endells system. Thus lines or line complexes
and, ultimately forms, which are only modifications of line complexes,
can express all the nuances of feeling experienced in movement, which
always exhibits both time, or tempo, and tension.124
Endells views, controversial when published in 1897-98, were
representative of widely-held assumptions of avant-garde artists that
attention to the specific details of the natural world was inconsistent
with fulfillment of the expressive potential of art.125 Music expressive,
abstract, free from any necessity to refer to the natural world came to
be seen as an exemplar for the new visual arts. As Harrison and Wood
observe, August Endell and Kandinsky were among those for whom the
apparently universal expressiveness of music held out the possibility
of an abstract visual art, its validity secured not by reference to the

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appearance of the material world, but rather by the supposed basicness

of certain formal principles.126
The Modernization of Form and Expression in Dance
Just as proportional theorists and instantaneous photographers
grappled with problems of representing movement, the avant-garde artists
of Art Nouveau also wrestled with mobility in various ways. The visual
arts were preoccupied with creating dynamic ornamental forms, while
the performing arts struggled to open the theatrical space for movement
and to free the performers body. Philosophical discussion addressed the
experience of time, space, and motion, as aestheticians and psychologists
theorized about the kinesthetic sense and its role in empathic apperception
of form. Within this fin-de-sicle vortex, Laban was shifting his own
interest from visual art to dance. Other artists of the period, notably the
Futurists, were also turning from the visual to the performance arts,
favoring dynamic expression over static representation.
Due to his determination to develop a notation system, Laban could
not entirely forsake the representation of movement for its evanescent
embodiment. It was vital to Laban that the dance leave a trace behind,
and this forced him to continue to contend with the problems of
representation. Consequently, the innovations in visual form that Laban
witnessed through his proximity to the Art Nouveau worlds of Paris and
Munich had important consequences for his emerging thoughts on dance,
its theoretical structure, and its preservation through graphic
representation.
It has been noted that the Art Nouveau movement aimed to transform
visual culture through commitment to the idea of modernity. Refrains of
these ideological concerns can be found in Labans work. He was
dedicated to finding a relevant role for dance in contemporary society.
Like other artists of the period, Laban rejected historical styles and
pursued new forms for the modern dance. As Wigman writes,
Laban told me once that it was the vision of a great work of art,
a combination of dance, music, and poetry, which started him on
his way. But how was such a dream to become reality when the

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chief instrument needed for the actual creation, the dance chorus,
did not exist. The ballet dancer of that time was not fit for the
dance as Laban envisioned. The modern dancer had not yet come
into being. Laban had to build up the new instrument himself
and the means of doing so.127
This was particularly true of Labans choreutic explorations, which
aimed to open spatial possibilities for the dance beyond the traditional
ones oriented around the cardinal directions. The resulting theory was
innovative, for as Preston-Dunlop observed, Labans choreutic forms,
nearly all inclinational and positively counter-stable, were a direct attempt
by him to provide other ways of moving than that provided by the ballet
which is based on stable forms.128
In addition to a quest for new forms, Art Nouveau artists aspired to
create the total work of art or Gesamtkunstwerk, an orchestration of
different art forms into a unified whole. Labans early experiments
resonated with this aim. The Schule fr Kunst (School for Art) in Ascona
(1913) was not merely a center for dance, but included training in music
and art. Labans subsequent school in Zurich (1915) advertised courses
in Tanz-Ton-Wort (Dance, Sound, Word). Moreover, Labans synthetic
leanings are quite clear in his views of dance itself. In his first book, Die
Welt des Tnzers (The Dancers World,1920), Laban rhapsodically
extolled the gestural power of dancing as an act that unifies feeling,
thinking, and willing. If Laban abandoned the creation of
Gesamtkunstwerk as a practical aim in the later decades of his career, he
never forsook it as a theoretical aim. Dancing remained for him an
orchestrated union of body and mind, a psychophysical Gesamtkunstwerk
whose compositional principles awaited discovery.
Art Nouveau artists not only created new art, they also generated
novel theories. The emerging field of psychology contributed to the
aesthetics of Art Nouveau, while the close connection between visual
arts and music, dance, and theatre ensured further interchange of ideas.
Three aspects of theory and practice seem particularly relevant to how
Laban came to conceptualize space, form, and dynamics in dance. These
include the theory of empathy, Art Nouveau approaches to the handling

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of line as a formal element, and practical techniques employed to create

patterns and visual ornaments.
Expression. The relevance of the theory of empathy arises from the
importance ascribed to the kinesthetic and visual senses in the appreciation
of form. Empathy was believed to rest upon physiological experiences
and the viewers ability to associate these with the formal characteristics
of the art object. Empathy provided a basis for the aesthetic understanding
of artwork that was neither naturalistic nor symbolic. This concept may
have influenced Labans thinking as regards the relationship between
form and expression. The theory of empathy suggests that the dynamic
expression is inherent in the form and much of Labans thinking about
affinities of effort and space would seem to rest upon the assumption
that certain kinetic rhythms arise naturally in relation to the line and
directional trajectory of the movement being performed.
Line. The way Art Nouveau regarded the formal characteristics of
line would also seem to have had an impact on Labans conceptions of
movement form. Dance can be seen as creating two kinds of forms or
ornaments in space. The first is the bodily form that arises when the
dancer momentarily holds a pose or assumes a position. The second kind
of ornament is the more evanescent form created by actual movement
through space; these transitional disappearing lines are what Laban
called trace-forms. Both types of movement ornaments are complexes
of lines. The English theorists were amongst the first to explore the
hidden utterance of ornament; that is, the effects that certain forms have
upon the mind.129 Jugendstil artists, notably August Endell, followed this
idea through in a systematic way, attributing tempo and tension to various
types of lines. Based upon these two parameters, Endell went on to suggest
that line and line complexes could express all the nuances of feeling
experienced in movement.130 Endell also dealt with direction, attributing
different effects to vertical, horizontal, and oblique lines. It is possible to
see in this Art Nouveau theory the seeds of Labans concepts of spatial
tension and the harmony of effort and shape.
Pattern. Finally, line complexes create ornaments and lead to pattern
and design. Art Nouveau artists studied nature for formal arrangements
and patterns. They also mined antique and exotic styles of ornament.

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Because these examples were not reproduced outright but used to generate
novel designs, ornaments had to be analyzed to determine how they were
constructed. Thus, part of the theory of Art Nouveau addressed the
principles by which visual patterns can be generated. While the knowledge
of pattern generation was applied by Art Nouveau artists primarily to
two-dimensional surfaces, similar techniques can be applied to generate
patterns in three dimensions. Laban appears to have drawn upon these
principles of pattern generation to develop various choreutic sequences
known by analogy to music as scales. The exact design methods he
employed are discussed in more detail in subsequent chapters.
Abstraction. Art Nouveau was a style that looked to nature for form
and structure and yet rejected naturalistic representation. Stylization was
its byword. The degree of abstraction employed in the treatment of natural
forms by the organic and linear camps was more a matter of degree than
a profound distinction. Nevertheless, a tension between the biomorphic
and the geometric within Art Nouveau can be detected. This was not just
a question of curves versus straight lines and angles. Rather it came to be
seen as a difference in aesthetic viewpoint. Wilhelm Worringer, in his
1908 work, Abstraktion und Einfuhlung (Abstraction and Empathy),
hypothesized that the urge to abstraction stood at the opposite pole from
empathy, which aims towards an identification with life and its vital forces.
Consequently, sensuous and dynamic biomorphic forms, even highly
stylized ones, invite objectified self-enjoyment, that is empathic
identification.131 Geometrical objects, such as pyramids or Byzantine
mosaics, invite an opposite response. One does not seek to identify
empathically with the life forces of such abstract objects, for their beauty
lies in the life-denying inorganic, in the crystalline or, in general terms,
in all abstract law and necessity.132 The urge to abstraction in its geometric
purity is, for Worringer, a withdrawal from the external world of nature
and the unending flux of being.133
Laban seems to have alternated between a biomorphic view of space
and movement form and a geometric, architectonic vision. This is reflected
in his drawings in which trace-forms are rendered as flowing curves (see
Plate L) or alternatively drawn as crystalline scaffoldings (Plate K). A
similar vacillation has been noted in his writings. On the one hand,

100

choreutic sequences are said to be organic phrases that can be seen to

occur spontaneously in natural movements. On the other hand, the
choreutic scales Laban identified are said to represent fundamental laws
of space movement. Rather than replicating naturalistic movements, these
sequences have been carefully constructed according to logical principles.
Thus a tension between empathy and abstraction can be detected in
choreutic theory.
If one places Labans choreutic theory within an Art Nouveau context,
choreutic sequences can be seen as a stylization of natural movement
sequences. These geometrical patterns stand in relation to the biomorphic
shapes of natural human movement as an angular ornamental border stands
to the leaves and flowers from which it was derived. Like other Art
Nouveau artists, Laban looked to nature, but what he created was artificial.
The stylized geometry of movement pathways that Laban uses in his
choreutic theory and notation system serves as a cognitive map for the
mover, a crystalline abstraction through which the flowing biomorphic
curves of natural movement may be conceptualized, recorded, and
reconstructed.
Harmony. In conclusion, the Art Nouveau movement instigated many
innovations in theory and practice. Laban was able to draw upon these to
stimulate his own theoretical and practical work in dance. For example,
the search for modern forms led Laban away from the stable orientation
of balletic tradition towards more oblique inclinations observable in
naturally flowing movement sequences. Familiarity with the theory of
empathy and its elaboration by Jugendstil artists such as Obrist and Endell
encouraged Laban to hypothesize links between movement lines or traceforms and dynamic, eukinetic qualities. An understanding of design and
ornament allowed him to transform flat shapes into three-dimensional
dance patterns. Even the Art Nouveau tension between biomorphic and
geometrical forms proved to be fruitful in the development of a workable
movement notation system.
Indeed, the turning away from representation and naturalism towards
stylization and abstraction that characterized the trajectory of the Art
Nouveau movement was very important for Laban. As detailed in
subsequent chapters, this urge to abstraction provided Laban with the

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practical tools he employed to conceptualize elements of human

movement, to develop a symbolic form of dance notation, and to outline
a theory of movement harmony. Art Nouveau was particularly influential
with regard to the last enterprise. For fin-de-sicle artists such as Obrist,
Endell, and Kandinsky, music was the non-representational art par
excellence, Dionysian in its effect yet Apollonian in its construction.
Music became a metaphor of expression made valid, not through reference
to the superficial world of the senses, but by appeal to more fundamental
abstract principles of harmonic construction. The Art Nouveau theorists
looked for these principles in the visual environment; Laban sought them
in the dancers world.

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Notes
11. Hughes, Shock of the New, 6.
12. Dictionary of Art, Human proportion.
13. Vitruvius, Ten Books on Architecture, 72.
14. Lawlor, Sacred Geometry, 44.
15. Encyclopedia of World Art, Proportion.
16. Hogarth, Dynamic Anatomy, 67.
17. Critchlow, Platonic Tradition, 133.
18. Bronowski, Ascent of Man, 157.
19. Panofsky, Meaning in the Visual Arts, 65.
10. Vitruvius, Ten Books on Architecture.
11. Ibid., 73.
12. Arnheim, Art and Visual Perception, 117.
13. Panofsky, Meaning in the Visual Arts, 97-98.
14. Prinz, Drer.
15. Strauss, Human Figure, 6.
16. Petherbridge and Jordanova, Quick and the Dead.
17. Panofsky, Meaning in the Visual Arts.
18. Panofsky, Codex Huygens, 126.
19. Dictionary of Art, Human proportion.
20. Panofsky, Codex Huygens, 125.
21. Ibid., 124.
22. Panofsky, Life and Art of Drer, 267.
23. Ibid., 125.
24. Panofsky, Meaning in the Visual Arts, 105.
25. Dictionary of Art, Academy.
26. Ibid.
27. The author wishes to express appreciation to L.V. Davis, an instructor
of anatomy and drawing, for the hours of time spent studying Labans
drawings and discussing them from an artists point of view. The
remarks paraphrased come from one such conversation (December
3, 1997).
28. This study was undertaken with the tutelage of L.V. Davis, director
of the Academy of Fine Art in Boulder, Colorado, during the spring
and autumn months of 1997. Davis was a student of Clayton

103

29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.

38.
39.
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.
45.
46.
47.
48.
49.
50.
51.
52.

Martindale, who was John Singer Sargents assistant. Sargent was

an American portraitist who studied in Paris during the 1870s. Davis
claims with some justification that his school teaches anatomy and
figure drawing as it has not been taught in a systematic manner since
the collapse of the great art academies of Europe.
Chastel, Genius of Leonardo da Vinci, 130.
Hale and Coyle, Anatomy Lessons.
Daval, Photography.
Newhall, History of Photography, 117.
Harrison and Wood with Gaiger, Art in Theory 1815-1900, 669.
Edgerton and Killian, Moments of Vision, 49.
Robert Taft, introductory comments in Muybridge, Human Figure
in Motion, viii.
Rabinbach, Human Motor.
Edgerton and Killian, Moments of Vision, 49. The zoetrope was a
childs toy that had a series of figures on the inside of a revolving
cylinder. When viewed through slits in the cylinder, the revolving
figures appeared to be animated. Muybridge adapted this device and
used it to project his photographs, creating an illusion of movement.
Rabinbach, Human Motor, 103.
Newhall, History of Philosophy, 121.
Ibid.
Ibid., 122.
Pollack, Picture History of Photography, 213.
Rabinbach, Human Motor, 102.
Ibid.
Taft, introductory comments in Muybridge, Human Figure in Motion,
viii.
Newhall, History of Photography, 123.
Ibid., 122-123.
Daval, Photography, 68.
Rodin, Rodin on Art and Artists, 34.
Ibid., 32.
Daval, Photography, 68.
Rodin, Rodin on Art and Artists, 33.

104

53. Ibid., 33-34.

54. Daval, Photography, 68.
55. The actual invention of the cinematography in 1895 is usually credited
to the French Lumire brothers, but any number of similar devices
prefigured their patent.
56. Read, History of Modern Painting, 108.
57. Ibid., 109.
58. Ibid., 110.
59. Hughes, Shock of the New, 44.
60. Rabinbach, Human Motor.
61. Read, History of Modern Painting, 113.
62. Ibid., 112. This is perhaps overly harsh on the part of Read. The
Futurist Umberto Boccioni did in fact have a theory of movement.
Rather than depicting a gesture at its moment of action, or synthesizing
many gestures into one characteristic attitude, Boccioni wanted
physical forces to be diffused into the environment and to superpose
and flood one over the other like vibrations (Coen, Umberto
Boccioni). In early Futurist works this was accomplished by a
multiplication of limbs to show movement, much like a
chronophotograph. Later works became more abstract; the object in
motion disappeared and only lines of force and color were used to
diffuse the movement across the whole canvas. What resulted was
not a representation of an identifiable body in motion, but only the
motion itself as pictorial dynamism.
63. There had always been a theatrical element in Futurism, with its
various manifestos being declaimed in public, often leading to
brawling, arrest, and very useful publicity for the artists. F.T.
Marinetti, founder of the movement, came to embrace cabaret for its
simplicity of means, its anti-academic position, and its primitive
appeal. Futurist performances, beginning around 1915, incorporated
scenery, costumes, movement, music, noise, and poetry and can be
seen as the prototype for the Zurich Dada performances in which
Labans dancers performed in 1917 and 1918. These later
performances were organized by Hugo Ball, who acknowledged
Marinetti and Frank Wedekind as his inspiration. Both Futurist and

105

64.
65.
66.
67.
68.
69.
70.
71.
72.
73.
74.
75.
76.
77.
78.
79.
80.
81.
82.
83.
84.
85.
86.

Dadaist performances were meant to shock, and the incorporation of

movement was part of the multimedia onslaught on the bourgeois
sensibilities of the audiences.
Tisdall and Bozzolla, Futurism.
Ibid., 138.
Daval, Photography, 79.
Tisdall and Bozzolla, Futurism, 142.
Daval, Photography, 68.
White, Age of Analysis, 66.
Pete Gunter comments on this remarkable popularity in his
introduction to Bergson, Creative Evolution, xviii.
Segel, Body Ascendant, 184.
Masur, Prophets of Yesterday, 261.
Ibid., 253.
Ibid., 254.
Rabinbach, Human Motor, 110.
Bergson, Creative Evolution, 395.
Bergson, Matter and Memory, 246.
Ibid.
Bergson, Creative Mind, 16.
White, Age of Analysis, 68.
Bergson, Creative Mind, 16.
Ibid.
Ibid., 190.
Bergson, Creative Evolution, 306.
Bergson, Creative Mind, 143.
Bragaglias photodynamism aligned itself with Bergsons intuitive
view of movement. Rather than the discrete images rendered in the
work of Muybridge and Marey, Bragaglias multiple images blur and
overlap, filling in the spaces between positions so that a sense of
continuous flow unifies the passage of the moving figure. Bragaglia
was critical of the mechanical arbitrariness of chronophotography
and the shattered rhythm of cinematography. His work echoes
Bergson, reflecting the notion that it is more human to capture what
lies in the interval (Tisdall and Bozzolla, Futurism, 138).

106

187. This treatise was published in England in 1966 as Choreutics and

reprinted in the U.S. under the title The Language of Movement in
1974. Page numbers cited in this book are taken from the American
version of Labans treatise.
188. Ibid., 3.
189. Ibid., 4.
190. Bergson, Matter and Memory, 265.
191. Ibid., 289.
192. Laban, Language of Movement, 4.
193. Ibid.
194. Ibid., 5.
195. Ibid.
196. Ibid., 4
197. Ibid., 26.
198. Ibid., 106.
199. Ibid., 108.
100. The Golden Section is found within the icosahedron as a ratio
between surface lines and internal rays. Laban points out that the
Golden Section is also considered to be the ruling proportion
between all the different parts of the perfectly built human body,
and notes that from the time of the Renaissance Leonardo da
Vincis analysis of the human figure based on the Golden Proportion
has been well known (Language of Movement, 108). Leonardo
was not the only Renaissance artist to have worked with the Golden
Proportion. In his studies of various body types, Drer found only
one constant and this was a Golden Section ratio in which the length
of the lower leg is to the thigh as the thigh is to the torso (Dictionary
of Art, Human proportion).
101. Bergson, Creative Evolution, 332.
102. Taft, introductory comments in Muybridge, Human Figure in
Motion, vi-viii.
103. Laban, Language of Movement, 28.
104. Labans comments, taken from his first treatise on choreutics and
notation, Choreographie (1926), are cited in Maletic, Body Space
Expression, 59.

107

105. Howard, Art Nouveau, 2.

106. A variety of publications devoted to the applied arts emerged across
Europe in the late 1800s. The British led the way with Century
Guild Hobby Horse (1884), The Studio (1893), and The Yellow
Book (1894). Germany followed with Pan (1895) and Die Jugend
(1896). Austria, Spain, France, Belgium, Scotland, and Russia also
had periodicals covering the Art Nouveau movement. Meanwhile,
the Paris Exposition of 1900 provided a venue for the display of
decorative arts done in the new style, such as the theatre designed
for Loie Fuller by architects Henri Sauvage and Pierre Roche and
the Siegfried Bing gallery. This was followed by the Turin
Exposition of 1902, in which the best work of avant-garde designers
from across Europe was displayed. Commissions made it possible
for these designers to work internationally. For example, the Belgian
designer Henri Van de Velde worked in Germany, Alphonse Mucha
(originally Moravian but associated with French Art Nouveau)
worked in Prague, while the English architects C.R. Ashbee and
Hugh Bailee Scott had clients in Hungary and Poland.
107. Howard, Art Nouveau, 1-2.
108. Greenhalgh, Art Nouveau, 18.
109. Ibid.
110. Ibid., 20.
111. Greiff, Art Nouveau, 26.
112. For example, in 1856 Owen Jones published The Grammar of
Ornament. This publication included 90 plates of ornamental motifs
from different civilizations that demonstrated good design
according to 37 propositions formulated by Jones. Widely used
and circulated, it was a prophetic work. It marked a change in
European aesthetics in several ways: by displaying primitive art
for its design content and by suggesting nature as a basic design
source. Joness work is now seen to have played a role in the move
towards non-representational art. In addition, there are other notable
treatises on decoration by English artists such as Christopher
Dresser (1873) and Walter Crane (1896). Techniques of pattern
generation were addressed by Mucha, Verneuil, and Auriol (ca.

108

113.
114.
115.
116.
117.
118.
119.
120.
121.
122.
123.
124.
125.
126.
127.
128.
129.
130.
131.
132.
133.

1900). Sources of biomorphic forms used by artists include the

photos of Blossfeldt (1900) and Haeckels Kunstformen der Natur
(Artforms in Nature, 1904). All of these design sourcebooks are
still in print.
Schmutzler, Art Nouveau, 12.
Harrison and Wood with Gaiger, Art in Theory, 690.
Vischer, Aesthetic Act and Pure Form, 692.
Greenhalgh, Art Nouveau, 435.
Wlfflin, Prologomena, 714.
Ibid., 712.
Greenhalgh, Art Nouveau, 292.
Wichmann, Jugendstil Art Nouveau, 120.
Hiesinger, Art Nouveau in Munich, 80.
Endell, cited in Weiss, Kandinsky in Munich, 36.
Endell, Beauty of Form, 63.
Weiss, Kandinsky in Munich, 36.
Harrison and Wood, Art in Theory, 15.
Ibid.
Wigman, Mary Wigman Book, 32.
Preston-Dunlop, Choreutics, 139.
Dresser, Principles of Victorian Decoration, 4.
Endell, cited in Weiss, Kandinsky in Munich, 36.
Worringer, Abstraction and Empathy, 69.
Ibid., 68.
Ibid., 71.

CHAPTER 4

Space: The Outer Domain of Human Movement

The Dancer Moves from Place to Place
When Laban the visual artist shifted his interest to dance, his goal
was to put dance on equal footing with the other arts. The initial problem
he tackled was the development of a serviceable graphic notation, one
that would allow movement to be recorded and reconstructed from a
written score. Finding a means to record dance was central to Labans
aim, for he recognized that no temporal art could achieve full
development without a notation to capture, preserve, and examine its
ephemeral creations.1
It took Laban fourteen years of continuous slog2 to develop a
workable notation system. As it turned out, finding a way to record dance
was not one problem but several. First Laban had to identify key elements
of dance; that is, he had to delineate a grammar for the language of
movement. Secondly he had to create graphic signs for these elements,
and then specify syntactical rules for the use of these signs in recording
dance. Ultimately, Labans research extended beyond a concern with
syntax to include a search for harmonic principles that could explain
the dense coherence of elements in the flowing motions of dance.
None of these challenges was easy to resolve. Given what is known
about Labans working methods, it is probable that he did not view these
as discrete problems but as interrelated concerns.3 Nevertheless, for ease
of discussion, this part of the book focuses on Labans identification of
key elements of dance, introducing his taxonomy of movement, along
with symbols for elements of this classification system. Historical
development of the taxonomy is not the central point of this discussion.
Rather, the aim is to provide a basis for subsequent examination of
syntactical and harmonic principles by explicating key elements of the
grammar of movement, as Laban constructed it.
Laban observed that the dancer moves, not only from place to place,
but also from mood to mood.4 In this beautifully economical statement,

110

Laban captures the psychophysical nature of dance and lays out the two
broad domains of his movement taxonomy. Physical movement from place
to place occurs in the visible outer domain of space. Psychological shifts
from mood to mood occur in the inner domain of thought and feeling but
can be inferred from the dynamic manner in which an action is performed.5
This chapter addresses observable sequences of movement in the
outer domain of space. In Labans view, the unfolding of movement in
space is not random. Rather, there is an underlying logic governed by the
anatomical structure of the human body and the nature of terrestrial or
gravity-bound space itself. Since the lines of movement vanish even as
they are being traced, the first step to discovering this underlying logic is
to be able to capture these forms by mapping the dancers space.
Geographies of the Kinesphere
Finding an appropriate way to describe and record the evanescent
unfolding of movement is not a simple matter. Imagine the following
dance sequence. A ballerina enters upstage left and performs a series of
traveling turns to end center stage. Here she pauses, extending her right
leg in arabesque, then sweeps her leg around and forward while her arms
trace wide arcs overhead. In this seemingly simple sequence, two kinds
of spatial movement occur. The dancer travels through space (from
upstage left to center stage) and the dancer continues to move while in
place (performing a series of leg and arm gestures). Mapping these two
types of movement requires different approaches.
Movement through space can be captured on a two-dimensional map.
The territory of the stage can be depicted with a floor plan, clearly
indicating stage directions. The pathway that the dancer follows can then
be drawn as a simple line or arrow. Facing pins can be added to show the
starting and ending orientations, as shown in Figure 4-1.
Figure 4-1.
Floor plan. Dancer enters upstage left
and travels on a straight path to end
stage center, facing the audience.

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This is the scheme utilized in Labanotation and Kinetography Laban.

Since two-dimensional maps are commonly used for navigation, writing
or reading a movement record like this is straightforward. However,
mapping the second series of actions those the dancer performs while
stationary presents a different sort of challenge. A flat map will not
suffice, for now the problem is how to capture movements in threedimensions.
Laban developed an interesting solution to this problem. He conceived
of the space around the body as a territory that is spherical in shape and
referred to this personal movement space as the kinesphere. The limits
of this territory are defined by the bodys range of motion while stationary;
thus the kinesphere is the space that can be reached without taking a
step. Laban pointed out that we are able to outline the boundary of this
imaginary sphere with our feet as well as with our hands.6 With the
additional actions of bending, stretching, and twisting the torso, any part
of this spherical area around the body can be reached. Moreover, even
when traveling through general space, the kinesphere is carried along
and surrounds the dancer like a shell.7
Labans description makes it sound as though the kinesphere is a
fixed territory, with set boundaries that are established by the reach of
fully extended limbs, aided by twisting, bending, tilting actions of the
torso. The kinesphere should actually be thought of as something far
more fluid and malleable, for the shape and boundaries of the actual
kinesphere can only be established by the dancers motion. Thus, the
kinesphere can grow and shrink in size, depending upon whether the
dancer is using fully extended limbs, or keeping the movement close to
the body. If the width of movement is limited, the kinesphere may be
more disc-like than spherical in shape. If the mover is only using certain
areas of the kinesphere while avoiding others, the kinesphere may be
lopsided, like a partially collapsed ball. While the potential kinesphere
may be thought of as a fixed bubble of space onto which movement is
superimposed, the shape and size of the actual kinesphere is established,
as Bergson puts it, by real motion that deposits space beneath itself. 8
Finding Landmarks for the Kinesphere. The kinesphere provides a
conceptual starting point for mapping movements in three dimensions.

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However, just as landmarks and directions are necessary when mapping

an area in two dimensions, some sort of reference points are necessary to
describe pathways through the territory of the kinesphere. Labans solution
was to consider the five Platonic solids the tetrahedron, the cube, the
octahedron, the icosahedron, and the dodecahedron as possible
geographies for the kinesphere.

(a)

(b)

(c)

(d)

Figure 4-2.
Platonic solids:
(a) tetrahedron, (b) cube,
(c) octahedron, (d) icosahedron,
(e) dodecahedron.

(e)

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These regular polyhedra bear Greek names reflecting the number of

their sides. The tetrahedron has four triangular sides, the cube (or
hexahedron) has six square sides, the octahedron has eight triangular
sides, the icosahedron has twenty triangular sides, and the dodecahedron
has twelve pentagonal (five-sided) faces. These forms are considered to
be regular because all the sides or faces are the same shape and size.
Moreover, the edges of each side are the same length, and the angles
between edges at each corner are identical. Because these polyhedra are
three-dimensional, they encompass space, as a sphere does.
Mathematically, these shapes are considered to be regular graphs on a
sphere.9 Their corners and edges create a graph-like grid. Laban
recognized that these regular grids could be exploited to create a kind of
longitude and latitude for the kinesphere. In particular, Laban discovered
that three of the Platonic solids the octahedron, the icosahedron, and
the cube were very useful for capturing characteristic pathways used in
dance and other movement arts. The corners of these forms not only
serve as markers for the beginning and ending locations of movement
through the kinesphere; they also provide a geography of landmarks that
corresponds to the dancers fundamental conceptual organization of
movement space.10
Cardinal Directions and the Octahedron. Labans geometrical
scheme for mapping movement initially seems quite abstract. Yet abstract
spatial concepts are made palpable through bodily experience. For
example, our upright posture establishes the cardinal directions. Up is
headward, away from the ground; down is towards the feet. Forward is
the direction we face; backward is what is behind us. Because of the
bilateral symmetry of the body, right and left are a bit different. For
example, if the right arm extends to the right, the torso is exposed. If the
right arm reaches to the left across the midline of the body, the torso is
protected. This leads Laban to observe that the bodily experience of
gesturing to the right or to the left is one of opening versus closing and
depends, not only on the direction of the movement, but also on the side
of the body that is leading the action.
Up, down, forward, backward, open, and closed are called the cardinal
directions because they form the simplest conceptual map that can be

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used to make sense of space. Each pair of opposite directions corresponds

to a cardinal dimension. Up/down establishes the vertical dimension of
height; right/left establishes the horizontal dimension of width, and
forward/backward establishes the sagittal dimension of depth. These
dimensions can be represented as a set of three intersecting lines
perpendicular to one another. Linking the ends of this dimensional cross
creates an octahedron, as shown in Figure 4-3.

Figure 4-3. Dimensional axes link to form the internal scaffolding of an

octahedron.
In developing a system for spatial orientation, Laban drew upon his
military background, observing that the movements made in every kind
of fighting correspond closely to our fundamental orientation in space.11
In extreme situations of attack and defense, movements must be related
to anatomical structure, for certain vulnerable regions of the body have
to be protected effectively. In relation to the cardinal dimensions, Laban
explains that an upward movement is used to defend the head, a downward
movement with the right arm serves to protect the right side. A movement
of the right arm across the body guards the left jugular vein, while an
opening movement defends the right jugular vein. The left flank is
protected by a backward movement across the body. A movement forward
defends the abdomen. The series of parries used in the opening movements
in fencing stylize this sequence of cardinal directions, linking the
different zones of the body and its limbs in a logical way. 12
In addition to serving as a system of reference in the martial arts,
Laban observed that the cardinal directions provide the simplest means

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of spatial orientation in dance.13 An emphasis on these simple directions

is found in European folk dances, in which the body is held erect while a
pattern of forward, backward, sideways open and sideways crossing steps
are performed. Laban also detected an octahedral geometry in the
traditional teaching of ballet based on a static theory of body carriage
and position.14 With its emphasis on placement and balance, the ballet
barre is organized around the cardinal directions. Plis and relevs along
the vertical axis are combined with arm and leg gestures, forward,
sideward, and backward. These directions continue to be reiterated in
center floor work; and in performance, spectacular balances often
crystallize along the dimensional axes.
While Laban observed that all our steps and gestures of the arms
are rhythmical changes between stability and mobility, he discovered
that certain lines of movement enhance stability while others facilitate
mobility.15 For example, Laban observed that movements containing
dimensional tensions give a feeling of stability. This stability arises from
the relationship of the dimensional axes of the octahedron to gravity.
When poised upright on a corner, the octahedrons central vertical axis is
plumb with the line of gravity. The horizontal axis is perpendicular to the
vertical, as is the sagittal axis. The value of being plumb with or
perpendicular to the gravitational axis has long been appreciated by
architects, for adherence to these lines ensures structural stability.
The human body and its movements were viewed as a kind of living
architecture by Laban.16 Like a building, the human form must balance
compression and tensile forces to remain standing. Consequently, the
major weights of the shoulder girdle and pelvis are suspended at right
angles to the spine. The legs rise upwards, two mobile supports upon
which the cross-beam of the pelvis rests. Meanwhile the heavy head is
placed precariously atop the vertebral column. According to Todd, if the
skull, the thorax and the pelvis are balanced at center in relation to the
axis of gravity, there will be no unequal strain upon ligaments or muscles
around the joints.17 To facilitate this centering of weights, the three
vestibular canals of the inner ear are arrayed at right angles to one another
so as to signal displacement in each plane of motion. Postural reflexes
provide automatic protection if one strays too far from the axis of gravity.

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By these lively means, the human body can maintain its balance
throughout a variety of activities.
The same spatial geography that provides architectural stability also
enhances stability in physical actions. Consequently, acrobats and dancers
rehearse vertical alignment to facilitate balanced support. Spectacular
poses can be held as long as verticality is maintained and the line of
gestures is more or less perpendicular to a vertical axis of support. If the
vertical axis begins to tilt, the pose either collapses or flows into another
movement. And this introduces a new spatial geography.
Cardinal Planes and the Icosahedron. Laban intended to create a
dynamic theory of form,18 and this led him to consider movement
possibilities inherent in an icosahedral geography. The icosahedron, with
twelve corners and twenty triangular faces, is more spherical in shape
than the octahedron. Moreover, hidden inside this form are three
rectangular planes. The icosahedron can be situated in such a way that
these internal planes correspond to the cardinal planes of motion. Again,
there is a close relationship between the anatomy of the human body and
the planar scaffolding of the icosahedron, as shown in Figure 4-4. The
vertical plane, which extends through the kinesphere like a door,
corresponds to what is called the frontal plane in anatomy. This plane
divides the dancers space, separating the area in front of the body from
the space behind. The horizontal plane, which stretches through the
kinesphere like a table, is known anatomically as the lateral plane. It
divides the space above waist level from the space below. The sagittal
plane, which extends through the kinesphere like a wheel, separates the
space to the right side of the body from the space to the left.

(a)

(b)

(c)

Figure 4-4. Cardinal planes of icosahedron: (a) vertical, (b) horizontal,

(c) sagittal.

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Two diameters lie in each of the three cardinal planes. These lines
connect opposite corners of each plane and intersect in the center of the
icosahedron, creating another kind of internal scaffolding for this
polyhedron, as shown in Figure 4-5. The planar diameters are neither
plumb with the line of gravity nor perpendicular to it. They incline away
from the dimensional cross, making planar movement in an icosahedral
geography less stable and more dynamic.

(a)
(b)

(c)

Figure 4-5. Oblique diameters: (a) vertical plane, (b) horizontal plane,
(c) sagittal plane.
Acrobatic maneuvers utilize the cardinal planes. Cartwheels take
place in the vertical plane; somersaults, in the sagittal plane; and flying
barrel turns, in the horizontal plane. Cyclical movements in these planes
require the mover to tilt off the plumb line of gravity, and this off-vertical
tilting provides other ways of moving than that provided by ballet which
is based on stable forms.19 In his own choreographic work, Laban
explored the icosahedral scaffolding to develop inclinational and
positively counter-stable dance sequences.20 Consequently the dynamic
potential of planar movement has come to be associated with many 20th
century modern dance styles.
Diagonals and the Cube. The eight corners of the cube provide
another set of coordinates for mapping movement in the kinesphere. Just
as the corners of the octahedron are connected by a set of three
dimensional lines that intersect in the center, opposite corners of the cube
are connected by a set four diagonal rays that also intersect in the center,
as shown in Figure 4-6. These sharply oblique lines are composed of
complex directions, combining height, width, and depth in equal
proportions. When Laban investigated the quality of movement along
these diagonals, he found that real mobility is almost always produced

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by the diagonal qualities of an inclination.21 Again, architecture provides

a clue to this observation. Any architectural structure that tilts or is not
plumb will tend to fall. The Leaning Tower of Pisa is marvelous for this
reason. The whole building is oblique, and yet it stands. In terms of bodily
architecture, movement towards a corner of the cube promotes a flowing
mobility and supports rapid transitions and changes in level, such as
jumping and falling.

Figure 4-6. Diagonals of

the cube.

Notation Basics. Laban embedded octahedral, icosahedral, and cubic

geometries in his notation system, developing a series of symbols to
represent all the dimensional, planar, and diagonal directions. These
symbols are easy to decipher once the reader is properly oriented as
follows. It is common practice in dance class for the teacher to demonstrate
with his/her back to the students. This is done so that the right and left
sides of the teacher and students correspond. Likewise, a movement
forward or backward for the teacher will also be forward or backward
for the students. This same orientation is used
in notation. The mover is visualized as
standing in the kinesphere with his/her
back to the reader, as in Figure 4-7. This
orientation allows the reader to
kinesthetically identify with the
directions taken by the mover.
Figure 4-7. Orientation
in kinesphere.

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Laban designed the shape of the symbol to indicate the direction of

the movement. There are only four shapes, as shown in Figure 4-8.
Figure 4-8. Direction symbol shapes.
The rectangle is used to represent the center of the kinesphere or
place. Place corresponds to the center of weight for the mover, which
is plumb with gravity. When the other symbols are arrayed around this
center, as if the viewer were looking down on the kinesphere from above,
each shape points in the direction it symbolizes, as shown in Figure
4-9.

Figure 4-9. Directions of kinesphere.

These direction symbols are elaborated by shading the symbol to
indicate the level of the movement. There are three levels low, middle,
high. The shadings for these levels are shown in Figure 4-10.

Figure 4-10. Shading indicates level.

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Level shading can be added to all the direction shapes in order to

depict the dimensions (shown in Figure 4-11 in relation to the octahedron),
the corners of the planes (shown in Figure 4-12 in relation to the
icosahedron) and the diagonals (shown in Figure 4-13 in relation to the
cube).

Figure 4-11. Dimensional directions.

Figure 4-12. Planar directions.

Figure 4-13. Diagonal directions.

The 26 direction symbols shown above, plus the symbol for center
( ), provide simple coordinate points for a longitude and latitude of the
kinesphere. Movement trajectories can be mapped by indicating starting
and ending locations and significant transitional landmarks. The pathway
of a movement can be captured in a simple motif, as shown in Figure
4-14. In this notational format, the sequence of directions should be read
from left to right. This is the format that will be used throughout the rest
of this book.

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Figure 4-14. Simple directional motif.

Lines of Motion and Their Characteristics
In Labans taxonomy, prototypic lines of motion are clustered in
various groupings based upon shared characteristics. Laban advocated a
multilateral description of movement, and this can be seen in the criteria
he used to create categorical clusters. For example, lines of motion are
grouped according to shared geometric characteristics of some kind. In
addition, these common geometrical characteristics have to be palpable
at the level of kinesthesia; that is, a mover must be able to feel similarities
and differences in the nature of the trajectories. Laban recognizes that
the geometry of space and the crystalline geographies he uses for orienting
movement can seem cold and intellectual in contrast to the sensuous
experience of flowing movement. Nevertheless, he believes that a dancer
can learn to comprehend living movement within geometrical
plasticity,22 uniting an intellectual understanding of space with a bodily
feeling for expressive movement. Laban goes on to suggest that with
the growing understanding of our kinaesthetic sense we may recognize
that our nerves have the capacity for a genuine perception of spatial
qualities.23 This assertion underlies his concept of spatial tension.
Concept of Spatial Tension. While this term was introduced in
Labans first book, Die Welt des Tnzers, and revisited in other writings,
he does not offer a concise definition in any work. Spatial tension appears
to be a composite concept. On the subjective level, the term addresses
changes in muscular activation and sensation related to shifts in the
movers relationship to the plumb line of gravity. At the objective level,
spatial tension addresses the complexity of the line of motion in threedimensional space, differentiating one-, two-, and three-directional
inclinations.
Axial lines, or internal rays, connect the corners of the octahedron,

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icosahedron, and cube. These axes also indicate trajectories through the
kinesphere. In Labans taxonomy, these lines of motion show distinct
differences in terms of spatial complexity. For example, the axial lines of
the octahedron correspond to the cardinal dimensions. Movements toward
the corners of the octahedron can be described simply with a single word
up, forward, right, etc. From Labans point of view, movements towards
these pure dimensions have only one directional pull or spatial tension.
The axial lines of the icosahedron are more complex. The planar
diameters are tilted away from the plumb line of gravity. Moving towards
an upper corner of the vertical plane, for example, requires a combination
of directions; one must reach not only upward but also sideward. Thus
Laban referred to lines of motion in the planes of the icoashedron as
having two spatial tensions. Moreover, because these planes are
rectangular, not square, displacement from the center of the plane to the
corner will not be equal; that is, there will be more movement in one
direction than in the other. Consequently, the two spatial tensions are
unequal in proportion, making these diametral lines of motion more
complex than the one-dimensional trajectories of the octahedral axes.
The diagonal rays connecting opposite corners of the cube are even
more complicated. Unlike movement in the flat, two-dimensional planes,
these oblique diagonals are fully three-dimensional. To reach an upper
corner of the cube requires not only reaching upward and sideward; one
must also reach forward or backward. Thus Laban referred to movement
along the diagonals of the cube as having three spatial tensions. Because
the internal planes of the cube are square (rather than rectangular),
movement from the center of the cube towards any corner requires that
the vertical, horizontal, and sagittal components of the trajectory be
balanced equally.
These differentiations of directional complexity are discernible
kinesthetically. In moving along or balancing in alignment with
dimensions, planar diameters, or cubic diagonals, the body takes on
differing relationships to the pull of gravity. As Juhan points out, gravity
is felt as an attraction to the ground, and all movement is a balance
between surrender and resistance to this downward pull. In movement,
it is muscular sensations which provide the mechanisms used by the

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mind to sense and control this balance.24 This leads Juhan to conclude
that our very concept of space itself is primarily muscular.25
While over 200 individual muscles have been delineated, as Cash
points out, the moving body should not be seen as the individual action
of separate muscles. The system works together as a whole to develop
patterns of muscular activity.26 This view agrees with Labans perception
of the skeleton as a crystalline structure created by the numerous (oneand multi-dimensional) pulls of active muscles on individual bones,
spreading muscular tensions through larger or smaller segments of the
skeleton in ordered tension sequences.27
Contraction of one part of the musculature will necessitate
lengthening of other parts, while any extension of a limb in space will
require bracing elsewhere in the structure. According to Juhan, in order
to execute any single change of shape, the entire musculature must always
utilize many of the different directions of pull afforded by the
arrangement of muscles, tendons, and bony levers. Consequently, we
will be closer to the complex truth in our conceptualization of muscular
activity if we regard the body as having only one muscle, whose millions
of fibre-like cells are distributed throughout the fascial network and are
oriented in innumerable directions, creating innumerable lines of pull.28
Among these many lines of pull, Laban identified two main types.
The first is simply two opposing pulls. This is viewed as a simple countertension, a kind of reflective body symmetry in which one limb reaches in
one direction while another opposes this reach by extending in the opposite
direction. Laban perceives this type of spatial countertension as an
automatic, often involuntary motion to re-establish balance.29 Laban
also identified more complex body-space patterns, which he referred to
as chordic tensions. These plastic poses or motions of the whole body
occur when three or more spatial/tension paths radiate into space
simultaneously.30 For example, Laban writes that a flying leap is likely
to be many-directional, since such a complicated movement necessitates
a series of secondary tensions executed by many smaller parts of the
body, its limbs, or its trunk.31
Locating Lines of Motion in the Kinesphere. Spatial tension is also
affected by where the line of motion occurs in the area around the body.

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Location in the kinesphere is a second criterion that Laban used to

catergorize lines of motion. He identified three clusters: (1) lines of motion
that pass through the center of the kinesphere, (2) lines of motion that
stay on the periphery, and (3) lines that traverse the space between the
outer boundary and the center of the kinesphere these last lines are
referred to as transversals.
In this schema, the dimensional axes of the octahedron, the planar
diameters of the icosahedron, and the diagonal axes of the cube are all
central lines of motion. All these lines intersect in the center of the
kinesphere. Because the dancer also occupies the center of this movement
space, the dimensions, diameters, and diagonals can be conceived to
emanate from and pass through the dancers body. As Laban puts it,
innumerable directions radiate from the center of our body and its
kinesphere into infinite space.32 Prototypic central pathways are those
of the dimensions, diagonals, and planar diameters, as shown in Figure
4-15.

Figure 4-15. Key directions emanating from center of kinesphere.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/14/54 NRCD.

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In contrast to the central trajectories illustrated in Figure 4-15,

peripheral pathways circuit the outside boundaries of the sphere of
personal space, avoiding the center. Laban sometimes refers to these as
surface movements.33 He uses the edges of the octahedron, the
icosahedron, and the cube as prototypes for these peripheral lines of
motion. For example, a grand battement to the front follows a peripheral
pathway from place low to forward middle tracing an edge of the
octahedron.
Throwing a Frisbee follows a peripheral pathway along an edge of the
horizontal plane of the icosahedron.
Frisbee
Dusting the top edge of a picture frame follows a peripheral pathway
along an edge of the cube.

Again, while innumerable peripheral pathways are possible, the longitude

and latitude provided by the edges of these three polyhedra are sufficient
for charting most surface movements.
Transverse movements indicate a third type of trajectory. These lines
of movement cut between the surface and center of the kinesphere. In
general, movements that sweep obliquely through space from one zone
of the kinesphere to another will tend to follow a transverse pathway.
Laban situates all the prototypic transversals in the icosahedron. By
definition, these lines of motion connect the corner of one plane to the
corner of a second plane by passing through a third plane. For example,
a movement that sweeps from the upper right corner of the vertical plane
to the lower back corner of the sagittal plane will cut through the horizontal
plane.
Laban identified twenty-four transversals inside the icosahedron, which
became his preferred model of the kinesphere.34

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Why Laban Preferred the Icosahedron

Laban emphasized that the idea of using the icosahedron as the
scaffolding of the kinesphere arose spontaneously from the study of
movement and dance. The present systematic description therefore is
not imposed from without, but is based on the inherent laws of natural
movement, which gradually came to light in the authors professional
activity as a dancer and dance-teacher.35 It appears that the icosahedron
emerged as the preferred model of the kinesphere for several reasons.
Zones of the Kinesphere. Laban drew upon the planar scaffolding of
the icosahedron to explore relationships between bodily structure and
pathways in space. As discussed above, each of the cardinal planes
bifurcate the kinesphere. The combination of all three planes divides the
kinesphere into eight areas or zones. (For example, one zone is situated
to the right side, above waist level and in front of the body; another
situated to left side, below waist level and behind the body, and so on.)
Laban observes that the body is constructed in a manner which enables
us to reach certain points of the kinesphere with greater ease than others.36
Therefore, each limb has its own zone, which is that part of the kinesphere
which can be reached by moving only the limb in question, without much
additional movement.37 In addition, by combining the movements of
trunk and limbs, we reach points which cover an area much wider than
the normal zone, and thus we form the super-zone.38 Laban goes on to
advocate close study of the relationship between the architecture of the
human body and its pathways in space.39 Labans own analysis yielded
some interesting correlations between the icosahedral scaffolding,
proportion, and range of motion.
Center. First, it should be recalled that Laban came into the field of
dance from the visual arts, where he had studied anatomy and proportion.
From classical times onwards, artists have utilized geometrical devices
to help with realistic representation of the human figure in action.
Consequently, certain proportional relationships were known to Laban.
A salient relationship was captured in Leonardos famous drawing of the
Vitruvian man, which was shown in Chapter 3, Figure 3-1. This drawing
shows that if the point of a compass is placed at the navel, the human
figure with fully extended limbs can be inscribed in a circle.40

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Laban transferred this observation to three-dimensional space and

used it to establish a one-to-one correspondence between the center of
the dancers body and the center of the icosahedron as follows. The point
of intersection of the three cardinal planes establishes the center of the
icosahedron. This center can also be found by locating the center of any
one of the three planes. Planar centers are easy to find, for they are marked
by the point of intersection of the planes two diameters. When a normallyproportioned human figure is posed in the door plane, legs wide and
arms extended upwards towards the upper corners of this plane, diametral
lines can be superimposed on the figure. These lines will intersect at the
navel, establishing an isomorphism between the center of the body and
the center of the vertical plane that corresponds to the center of the
icosahedron.
Labans color rendering of this proportional relationship is shown in
Plate M. The hexagonal outline represents the icosahedron resting on the
lower edge of the vertical plane. The standing figure is posed in the vertical
plane. By superimposing the diameters of this plane on the figure, as
shown in Figure 4-16, the intersection at the navel can be seen. The
coincidence of these centers will apply in general due to the surprising
correspondence between proportions of diversely sized bone structures
of both sexes.41

Figure 4-16.
Diameters of the
vertical plane intersect
at the navel center
of the body.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/4/7 NRCD.

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The proportional correspondence of the navel center of the body with

the center of the icosahedral model is one relationship Laban detected,
but there are more. As noted in Chapter 3, Laban compared standard
degrees of range of motion in flexion, extension, abduction, adduction,
and rotation for various body parts. These degrees of movement were
identical with or proportional to a variety of angles found in the
icosahedron. For example, the rotating angle for the head at the atlantoaxial joint is 60 degrees. The angle between the intersecting peripheral
lines of motion marked by the edges of the icosahedron is also 60 degrees
(due to the fact that all the faces of the icosahedron are equilateral
triangles). Laban details a number of other such correspondences
between the angles of the icosahedron and the maximum angles through
which the limbs move.42 This observation further supports the choice of
icosahedron as a model of the kinesphere, for the angular relationships
between diameters, peripheral edges, and transversals as prototypic lines
of movement are congruent with angular range of motion of the joints of
the human body.
Prevalence of Deflected Lines of Motion. As noted earlier, Laban
associates dimensional lines of motion with stability and diagonal
trajectories with mobility. Laban goes on to observe that since every
movement is a composite of stabilizing and mobilizing tendencies, and
since neither pure stability nor pure mobility exist, it will be the deflected
or mixed inclinations which are the more apt to reflect trace-forms of
living matter.43 Longstaff refers to this observation as the organic
deflection hypothesis, reiterating Labans view in this way: Dimensional
and diagonal orientations serve as conceptual prototypes of pure
directional stability and pure directional mobility respectively: while
actual body movements occur as deflections between the idealistic pure
dimensions and pure diagonals, that is [as] mixtures of stability and
mobility.44 (italics added)
Labans organic deflection hypothesis suggests that there is a
continuum of variation between stable and mobile lines of motion.
Resting, pausing, and balancing will tend to occur along dimensional
pathways. Rapidly flowing, unstoppable transitions will incline along
sharp diagonals. These trajectories represent the extremes of stability

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and mobility. However, if movements through the kinesphere were to

leave vapor trails so that the pathways could be investigated, most of
these trace-forms would incline slightly, tending towards the deflected
directions that lie between the perpendicular lines of the dimensions and
the extreme oblique lines of the diagonals.
Laban models his concepts of deflected directions on the various
tilted lines found within the icosahedron: namely, the planar diameters,
the transversals, and the peripheral edges. Of these tilted lines, the planar
diameters are referred to as the primary deflections.45 Since these
primary deflections play an important role in harmonic theory, it is useful
to understand their spatial relationship to the dimensions and the diagonals
from which they are deflected.
First, consider the relationship of the cardinal dimensions and the
cardinal planes. The vertical and horizontal dimensional axes lie within
the vertical plane, while the corners of the plane lie between the endpoints
of the dimensional axes. The diameter of the plane indicates motion in
the direction of the corners. These diametral lines of motion are deflected
from the pure dimensions. For example, movement towards the upper
right hand corner of the vertical plane tilts off the vertical axis and veers
above the horizontal axis. These relationships are shown in Figure 4-17.

Figure 4-17. Diameters of vertical planes in relation to vertical and

horizontal dimensions.

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Similar relationships hold true for the horizontal and sagittal planes.
All the planar diameters are deflected from the pure dimensions. They
are neither plumb with the gravitational axis nor perpendicular to it. They
slant at oblique angles to the cross of the dimensional axes. However,
diameters do not slant to the same degree as the cubic diagonals. This
can be seen when one of the cardinal planes is situated in the cube. As
shown in Figure 4-18, the vertical plane stands between the front and
back walls of the cube, dividing the inner space of the cube in half.
Consequently, movement along the pure diagonal from the lower back
right corner to the upper forward left corner will project through the
vertical plane. This diagonal is a fully three-dimensional trajectory that
rises, advances, and opens towards the left. In contrast, movement within
the vertical plane is flat and two-dimensional. Tracing the diameter from
the lower right corner to the upper left involves moving upward and
sideward, but the motion is constrained within the plane and follows a
much shallower trajectory.

Figure 4-18. Diagonals project

through the cardinal planes.

Since the deflected planar directions lie between the dimensions and
the diagonals, their spatial characteristics are moderated or tempered. In
terms of stability, the diametral deflections are less stable than the
dimensions, but more stable than the diagonals. In terms of mobility, the
deflected directions are more mobile than the dimensions, but less mobile
than the diagonals. This holds true for the other prototypic deflected
lines of motion identified by Laban, that is, for the icosahedral transversals

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and peripherals. All these lines of motion fall in the middle of a continuum
from stability to mobility.

Stability

Mobility

dimensions
deflected directions
diagonals
diameters/peripherals/transversals

Figure 4-19. Lines of motion in relation to the continuum

from stability to mobility.
To summarize, Laban appears to have given the icosahedron place
of pride as a model of the kinesphere for the following reasons. The
cardinal planes that provide the internal scaffolding of the icosahedron
subdivide the kinesphere into eight zones or areas. Range of motion of
individual limbs as well as combined actions of several parts of the body
can be studied in relation to these kinespheric zones and super-zones.
The icosahedron encapsulates many deflected lines of motion that
correspond to naturally-occurring pathways taken by the limbs, with
angles between these lines of motion corresponding to standard range of
motion of various body parts. Finally, the dancers center of gravity
provides a theoretical center for movement in any kinespheric geography.
When the icosahedron is used as the model of the kinesphere, however,
its center and the dancers navel center correspond literally as well as
figuratively.
From Line to Line Complex: Theorizing Movement Sequences
Lines of motion can be conceptualized in relation to direction, location
in the kinesphere, and associated kinesthetic sensations. However, as a
movement progresses, many lines are traced in the space around the body.
These line complexes create an impression of shape. Laban refers to
these movement shapes as trace-forms.
Generic Movement Shapes. Drawing on the terminology of classical
ballet, Laban identifies four basic formal elements of line: droit
(straight), ouvert (curved), tortille (twisted) and rond (rounded). He goes
on to point out that these elemental lines resemble the Arabic numbers 1,

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2, and 3: 1 represents the droit or, if slightly curved, the ouvert while 2,
with its double wave, corresponds to the tortille and the 3 to the rond.
These linear elements serve as a basis for shaping; they can be seen as
the building blocks of all trace-forms.46

Figure 4-20. The four formal qualities of line identified by Laban.

Shape is an important design element for both dance and visual art,
yet the creation and perception of shape are entirely different in these
disciplines. In actual movements, point after point of the trace-forms
vanish into the past, Laban notes, while in architecture, sculpture, and
painting, the trace-forms are fixed.47 In dance, the lines of motion appear
sequentially, one at a time, and then disappear, leaving only an ephemeral
memory trace of the whole sequence of shapes. In visual art, the line
complexes making up a shape can all be viewed simultaneously, creating
an enduring Gestalt.
Coming to dance from the visual arts, Laban recognized the value of
such wholistic impressions, for he wrote, to understand and remember
a trace-form, it may often be useful to know what we shape (e.g., a triangle)
or to know what familiar contour the trace-form of our movement
resembles. 48 Consequently, when he conceptualized movement
sequences in space, he gave them a recognizable shape. Like Leonardo
da Vinci, Laban perceived human movement to have a fluid and curving
nature.49 Since these circles needed to be situated within a polyhedral
grid in order to be notated, however, Laban transformed the circle into
various polygons, each having a spatial rhythm: A triangle accentuates
three points in the circumference of a circle, a quadrangle four points, a
pentagon five points, and so forth. Each accent means a break of the
circuit line, and the emergence of a new direction. These directions follow
one another with infinite variations, deflections and deviations.50

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As discussed in Chapter 3, Laban developed these rhythmic circles

as a way to capture the progressive stages of movement. The unfolding
sequence of lines is projected onto the space around the dancers body
and represented schematically as a polygonal trace-form, as shown in
Figure 4-21, and Plate K (color version).

Figure 4-21.
Polygonal trace-form representing a sequence of movements.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/5/86 NRCD.

These sequential circuits, which are also called rings, are classified
on the basis of the number of their sides. Thus a three-ring is triangular;
a five ring, pentagonal; and so on. Labans aim seems to have been to
create a taxonomy of prototypic movement sequences based on variations
of a circle. The forms he identified all display certain characteristic
features. The rings are situated so as to make full use of the kinesphere,
moving in prescribed sequence from plane to plane. Most of the rings are
symmetrical polygonal forms, with angles of the same size and sides of

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the same length. In the latter instance, this means that the sides of these
trace-forms are typically all of one kind; that is, all peripheral lines or all
transversals. Only in a few cases did Laban identify mixed rings, which
combine peripheral and transverse lines and are consequently
asymmetrical.
The consistency of these characteristics raises questions as to whether
these rings are naturally-occuring movement sequences which Laban
chose to record in a systematic way, or whether these sequences were
constructed by Laban according to certain coherent rules. It is clear that
Laban intended for these rhythmic circles to be the basis of a physical
movement practice and to serve as a design resource for dance
composition.51 This suggests that these rings were created rather than
discovered. In this sense, Labans rhythmic circles are best thought of as
spatial prototypes from which dance sequences can be constructed,
just as musical scales are model tonal sequences from which melodies
and harmonies are composed. When actual choreographies have been
scrutinized, some of the simpler rings, such as those with only three or
five links, have been found to be used as whole forms. It is more common,
however, for only fragments of rings to be found in the movement design,
just as only a part of a scale sequence may be found in a musical
composition.52 Indeed, Laban himself seems to have been aware of this,
for he asserted that we can understand all bodily movement as being a
continuous creation of fragments of polyhedral forms.53
Corridors of Action. Just as linear trajectories in space share
geometric and kinesthetic characteristics, so do rhythmic circuits. The
first characteristic they share is their number of sides. The second
characteristic they share is their location in the kinesphere. This is
determined by the relationship of the ring to one of the four diagonals of
the cube. These four diagonal axes were particularly important to Laban.
He identified whole families of three, four, six, seven, and twelve-sided
rings surrounding each of the four diagonals of the cube. These rings,
which are made up of peripheral or transverse lines of motion, are situated
in the icosahedron, but revolve around the cubic diagonals. Thus it is
useful to understand the relation of the cubic diagonals to the geography
of the icosahedron, since the latter is the model Laban chose as best

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matching the deflected pathways of naturally-occurring movement.

The cubic diagonals traverse the interior space of the icosahedron
and pierce its faces, as shown in Figure 4-22. More significantly, the
ends of these four lines mark the eight zones of the kinesphere. For
example, the diagonal that extends up, forward, and toward the right
links the kinespheric zone that lies to the front, above waist-level, and to
the movers right with the kinespheric zone that surrounds its opposite
end, that is, with the zone that lies behind, below waist-level, and to the
movers left.

Figure 4-22. Example of one cubic diagonal projecting through the

icosahedron.
Because these diagonal axes link zones of the kinesphere, they create
corridors of action around which the deflected trajectories of natural
movement may be conceived to oscillate. The pure diagonals provide a
conceptual anchor for the infinite variety of the rhythmic circles of human
movement. This appears to be the way in which Laban utilized them,
designing rings with a varying number of sides all of which belong to a
family of forms that surround the corridor of action marked by one of the
four pure diagonals.54
Refining Labans Scheme
While the preceding discussion has outlined spatial concepts and
fundamental notation practices developed by Laban, his foundational
work has been elaborated and modified by students, colleagues and others

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in the many decades since his death. The following points are introduced
to round out discussion of the spatial domain of the Laban taxonomy.
Posture versus Gesture. Laban did not give specific instructions for
how the rings he identified were to be performed. In fact, he wrote that
it will be both advantageous and instructive for the performer to
experiment and find for himself the most harmonious way of executing
simple forms.55 On the other hand, in his own teaching and choreography,
Laban evolved a style of embodiment in which his artistic and theoretical
perspectives converged. This manner of performance has been delineated
as incorporating a dominance of one side of the body, in which one
arm draws the shape of the trace-form while the steps follow
congruently, along with the trunk and head. Preston-Dunlop explains
that this uncomplicated congruency of all body parts served Labans
choreographic work with amateurs for it relies on no unnatural training
of the body through techniques.56 This style of embodiment is also
consistent with Labans theoretical view of the isomorphism of the center
of the kinesphere and the navel. Laban constructed his rings to oscillate
symmetrically around this body center, thereby encouraging a style of
performance that is postural rather than gestural.
Preston-Dunlop has argued, however, that a prescribed practice of
total body congruency is inapplicable with dancers of high technical
potential and irrelevant in current theatrical approaches in which
contemporary choreographers use the highly sophisticated and noncongruent body behaviour of stylized techniques.57 Indeed, dance
notators have had to develop approaches for recording complex spatial
gestures of individual body parts.
Their solution adapts Labans original geography of space as follows.
Rather than reading the direction of a gesture of the limbs, trunk, or head
in relation to the center of the kinesphere, gestural directions are based
upon the spatial relationship of the extremity (free end) to the base (point
of attachment).58 The base or fixed end of limb is generally the joint
closest to body center. For example, the fixed end of the whole arm is the
shoulder, while the free end is the hand. The direction of an arm movement
would be read as the spatial relationship between the hand and shoulder.
A mini-kinesphere is located at every joint, with the cross of dimensional,

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diagonal and diametral axes providing a system of orientation for

recording pathway traced in space by the free end of the limb. In this
adaptation, there is not one kinesphere around the whole body, but multiple
spheres surrounding major joints. This adaptation of Labans original
scheme allows complex and overlapping phrases of multiple parts of the
body to be recorded with great accuracy.
Systems of Reference. Labans initial analysis of the direction of
lines of motion was based upon a simple set of cardinal directions: up/
down, right/left, forward/backward. Dancers tend to feel these directions
in terms of the body, so that up is towards the head, forward is in front of
the body, and so on. Directions can be taken from the stage or room,
however, so that up is towards the ceiling, forward is towards the audience,
stage right is to the right when the performer faces the audience, and so
on. As long as a dancer is standing and facing the audience, body directions
and stage directions are the same. If the dancer faces away from the
audience, however, his or her right side will be toward stage left. If the
dancer is lying in a supine position on the stage floor, up is no longer
headwards, but situated in front of the movers body.
In order to record complex patterns of stage movement along with
acrobatic maneuvers, different systems of reference for analyzing the
direction of movement have been developed.59 For example, the Body
Cross of axes bases cardinal directions on the body without any outside
points of reference. In this system, up is always toward the head, chestward
is forward, and so on. The Standard Cross takes up and down from the
line of gravity, and the other cardinal directions from the body. The
Constant Cross bases directions on outside points of reference in the
movers environment. Once these points are set, they remain constant
regardless of the facing or position of the dancer. Motion forward is always
toward whatever has been identified as front, movement to the right is
toward whatever has been set as the right side of the room, and so on.
These systems of reference add flexibility to Labans geography of space
and mediate between the movers need to make sense of direction from a
bodily perspective and the observers need to capture the form.
Motion versus Destination. In developing his notation system, Laban
struggled with the crux of the problem of movement representation

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addressed by Henri Bergson: movement is experienced as an indivisible

whole, yet conceived as a line that can be identified by the beginning and
ending positions, and any particularly significant transitional points in
between. Laban wanted to write motion, not only positions passed
through, and this led to many years of experimentation. 60 The
breakthrough in the development of notation occurred when Laban finally
compromised, accepting that gestures were best expressed as positions
passed through, while steps were best expressed as motion.61 This
convention in recording movement has been retained to this day. Gestures,
defined as any non-weight bearing action of a body part, are recorded in
terms of movement towards a destination, using points in space as
milestones.62 Steps, leaps, jumps and other weight-bearing actions are
written as motion away from a starting point.63
While this compromise resulted in a practicable system of notation,
Laban never stopped searching for a way to record gestures as motion.
One late attempt appears in the last chapter of the posthumously published
book, The Language of Dance. Here Laban raises the need for a notation
that can record free lines in space that are not bound to points of the
scaffolding [of the icosahedron].64 The scheme Laban outlined has never
been adopted. However, Labans taxonomy of space has been enriched
by subsequent efforts to address the problem of writing motion, mainly
through the development of a hybrid category known as shape.
Laban addressed shape in two ways, analytically and synthetically.
Analytically, he identified four formal elements of line (droit, ouvert,
tortille, and rond; noted on pp. 131-32) from which any movement shape
could be composed. Synthetically, Laban constructed prototypic rings
with readily recognizable polygonal shapes (see pp. 133-34). These rings
are identified by positions passed through, and these positions are bound
to the scaffolding or coordinate points provided by the octahedral, cubic,
and icosahedral geographies of the kinesphere. These shapes are
represented as a series of destinations, not as motions. Nevertheless, both
of Labans approaches to shape have been mined to capture motion.
The four formal elements of line have been used to conceptualize
modes of shape change.65 Three modes have been identified: shape
flow, directional movement, and carving. Shape flow is a concept used

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to describe the plasticity of the kinesphere in terms of how body movement

causes this hypothetical sphere to grow or shrink in size. Directional
movement describes the trace-form in terms of its linear quality of being
spoke-like, that is, straight (droit); or arc-like, that is, curved (ouvert).
Carving movement becomes fully three-dimensional, involving spiral and
twisting movement, and seems to subsume the categories of tortille and
rond. These modes are identified on the basis of quality of linear motion
without reference to destination or points passed though in the kinesphere,
representing one way to capture free space lines.
Delineation of shape qualities provides another approach to
representing motion.66 These shape qualities are identified by reference
to the cardinal directions: rising to indicate a motion upward, descending
to indicate a motion downward, spreading to indicate a motion away
from the midline of the body, enclosing to indicate a movement toward
the midline, advancing to indicate a motion forward, and retreating to
indicate a motion backward. These qualities may be combined, as in a
rising and advancing gesture that moves both upward and forward. Shape
qualities are used to represent motion away from a starting point that
could be anywhere in the kinesphere. The resulting motion is described
without reference to specific destinations in the kinespheric scaffolding.
Modes of shape change and shape qualities can be seen as additions
to the taxonomy of space that Laban originated. Interestingly, Laban
speculated that free space lines can be very useful in the notation of
everyday movements.67 This has proven to be the case, for modes of
shape change and shape qualities have been applied primarily in the
behavioral and human sciences, where movement form is frequently less
highly crystallized than in dance.68 The symbols that have been developed
to notate modes of shape change and shape quality capture the essence
of free motion in space, but do not allow the movements recorded to be
reproduced exactly. This has not been a limitation, however. Unlike
recording a choreographed dance work, documentation of movement
behavior in the human sciences is done primarily for purposes of analysis
rather than reconstruction. It is a testament to Labans foundational work
that his movement theories have proven sound enough to be adapted and
applied in disciplines beyond dance.

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Summary: Taxonomy of Space

Labans taxonomy of space starts with conceiving a spherical bubble
of personal space that surrounds the mover. This movement territory, or
kinesphere, is defined by the limits of the range of motion of the body. In
other words, the kinesphere is the area that can be reached without taking
a step. This personal bubble of space is not fixed in one place. Rather it
is a movable territory that travels with the dancer, changing size and
shape based upon the individuals movements.
In order to trace and record movement pathways through the
kinesphere, Laban drew upon the Platonic solids. These regular threedimensional forms provide corners, edges, and internal rays that can be
used as a longitude and latitude for mapping movement in the space
around the body. Laban found that three forms were particularly useful:
the octahedron, the cube, and the icosahedron. The octahedron
encapsulates the cardinal directions, which are plumb with the line of
gravity or perpendicular to it. Thus the dimensional scaffolding of the
octahedron stands as a model of stable trajectories of movement. The
cube contains the sharply inclined diagonals and represents mobile spatial
pathways that either fly or fall. According to Labans observations, most
movements combine stable and mobile tendencies and follow what he
called the deflected inclinations. The planar diameters, peripheral edges,
and transverse rays of the icosahedron represent these prototypic
pathways.
The icosahedron proved to be a particularly suitable model for
movement description. The intersection of the cardinal planes divides
the kinesphere into eight zones, allowing for an investigation of the range
of motion of various limbs in relation to these clearly demarcated areas
of the movers personal space. Moreover, the center of the icosahedron
corresponds proportionally with the navel center of the human body.
Laban also found angles between the peripheral edges and transverse
rays of the icosahedron that are congruent with the normal range of motion
of various parts of the body. Finally, Laban hypothesized on the basis of
his observations that these peripheral and transverse lines best
approximated trajectories traced in naturally-occuring movements.

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In Labans taxonomy, prototypic lines of motion are classed in

families having shared characteristics. Laban distinguishes families in
terms of spatial tensions (one, two, or three spatial pulls), location in the
kinesphere (central, peripheral, or transverse), and degree of stability
and mobility (dimensions, diagonals, and deflected directions).
Most movements unfold in space, following a series of lines and
changes of direction. By combining geometric approaches to the
representation of movement developed by Renaissance artists Albrecht
Drer and Leonardo da Vinci, Laban came up with the concept of
rhythmic circles as a prototype for movement sequences. These rings
are actually polygonal shapes of a varying number of sides. These shapes
can be arrayed in various locations in the kinesphere to represent the
unfolding of movement sequences as they traverse the space around the
body. Labans taxonomy groups these polygonal forms in families based
upon the number of sides that the circle has as well as the axis around
which it is organized. The four cubic diagonals, which link zones of the
kinesphere, form corridors of action that serve, in Labans scheme, as
axes for movement sequences.
Laban emphasizes that this kind of modeling of movement traceforms serves a formal and analytical function. As such, it is an artificial
separation of the patterns of lines and forms from the other aspects of
movement. As Laban notes, the will or the decision to move springs
from the depth of our being. We not only alter the positions of our bodies
and change the environment by our activity, but bring an additional colour
or mood to our movements.69 How Laban has conceptualized these
movement moods is the focus of the next chapter, which will complete
the introduction to Labans choreutic and eukinetic taxonomy of human
movement.

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Notes
1. Maletic, Body Space Expression, 113.
2. Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 132.
3. Preston-Dunlop and Lahusen report that Labans early research
focused on finding a spatial harmonic system for dance that would
form the basis of written dance (Editorial II, Schrifttanz, 24). In
Maletics view, however, the crucial breakthrough in the
development of written dance arose from the separation of Labans
notation from its initial integration with space harmony concepts
(Body Space Expression, 119). This initial break has resulted in
separate lines of development. Archival evidence indicates that Laban
continued to pursue his own research on harmonic principles until
the end of his career. After publication of the notation system in 1928,
practical development was carried on independently by other
movement specialists, notably Albrecht Knust and Ann Hutchinson
Guest, without obvious reference to theories of movement harmony.
4. Laban, manuscript, E(L)8/15, Laban Archive, NRCD.
5. Laban coined a variety of terms for various aspects of his theoretical
explorations, such as choreography, choreology, choreosophy,
choreutics, eukinetics, and effort. The term choreography
(literally writing circles) was used to convey both authoring
dances as well as recording them in notation. Choreology refers to
the study or logic of circles and is sometimes amended as
choreology space or choreology effort to differentiate the
domain being studied. Choreosophy deals with the wisdom of
circles and is a term Laban used to allude to philosophical and
spiritual values inherent in movement and dance. In this book,
Choreutics is used to refer to the spatial domain, while Eukinetics
is used to refer to the realm of kinetic energy. Both words use the
Greek root eu, meaning good, and were employed by Laban in
relation to what he perceived as harmonic principles in these two
domains. In English-speaking countries, Choreutics is sometimes
referred to as space harmony and Eukinetics as effort theory.
6. Laban, Language of Dance, 10.
7. Laban, Modern Educational Dance, 85.

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18. Bergson, Matter and Memory, 289

19. Farmer and Stanford, Knots and Surfaces, 41.
10. Laban experimented with all five Platonic solids. For example, he
observed that the height and width of the human body are greater
than its depth, resulting in a flat, plane-like structure. The third
dimension of depth becomes most apparent when moving. Since the
simplest three-dimensional form is the tetrahedron, Laban viewed
this form as a plastic transformation of a quadrangular plane, a kind
of kernel of other more complex shapes assumed when the body is in
fully three-dimensional motion. In addition, there are many drawings
of dodecahedra in the Rudolf Laban Archive. The nature of these
suggests that Laban experimented with this form theoretically as a
model for the mid-reach area of the kinesphere. In practice, the twenty
corners of the form proved to be a more difficult map of space for the
dancer, and this model was not adopted as a kinespheric geography.
11. Laban, Language of Dance, 37.
12. Ibid.
13. Laban, cited by Maletic, Body Space Expression, 59.
14. Ibid.
15. Laban, Language of Movement, 94.
16. Ibid., 5.
17. Todd, Thinking Body, 59.
18. Maletic, Body Space Expression, 59.
19. Preston-Dunlop, Choreutics, 139.
20. Ibid.
21. Laban, Language of Movement, 90.
22. Ibid., 88.
23. Ibid., 89.
24. Juhan, Jobs Body, 250.
25. Ibid., 249.
26. Cash, Pocket Atlas of Moving Body, 7.
27. Bartenieff with Lewis, Body Movement, 103.
28. Juhan, Jobs Body, 113-114.
29. Laban, Language of Movement, 89.
30. Bartenieff with Lewis, Body Movement, 107.

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31.
32.
33.
34.

35.
36.
37.
38.
39.
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.
45.
46.
47.
48.
49.
50.
51.

Laban, Language of Movement, 21.

Ibid., 17.
Ibid., 94.
There are actually 30 internal rays that cut through the interior space
of the icosahedron. Six of these lines form the longer edges of the
three cardinal planes. Since these rays lie within one plane, they do
not meet the criteria Laban set for transverse lines; that is, they do
not connect two different planes by cutting through a third plane.
Moreover, these planar edges are either plumb or perpendicular to
the line of gravity, unlike the other 24 oblique transversals.
Laban, Language of Movement, 108n.
Ibid., 25.
Ibid., 21.
Ibid., 23.
Ibid., 25.
This proportional relationship has been replicated using a female
figure by Doczi, Power of Limits, 98.
Ibid., 100.
For a full discussion of these similarities, see Laban, Language of
Movement, 106-108.
Ibid., 90.
Longstaff, Cognitive Structures of Kinesthetic Space, 164.
Laban, Language of Movement, 73.
Ibid., 83.
Ibid., 115.
Ibid.
Ibid., 101.
Ibid., 26.
Laban was familiar with design sourcebooks from his visual art
background. Many Art Nouveau treatises drew on historic and exotic
patterns of ornament to provide artists not only with motifs but also
with principles of pattern generation that could be applied to original
design work. The emphasis on symmetry, line, and pattern in Labans
rhythmic circles suggest that he visualized these as serving an
analogous function for dance composition.

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52. See Preston-Dunlop, Choreutics, 144-147.

53. Laban, Language of Movement, 105.
54. Laban also identified rings of five and seven sides around the planar
diameters. Once the design principles he employed are understood,
potentially any of the central axes of the icosahedron could be used
for pattern generation. For example, see Preston-Dunlop, Point of
Departure, 108 118.
55. Laban, Language of Movement, 111.
56. Preston-Dunlop, Choreutics, 142.
57. Ibid., 143.
58. Hutchinson, Labanotation, 32.
59. Hutchinson-Guest, Your Move, 279-288.
60. Preston-Dunlop and Lahusen, Schrifttanz, 25.
61. Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 132.
62. Hutchinson, Labanotation, 28.
63. Ibid., 30.
64. Laban, Language of Movement, 125.
65. Hackney, Making Connections, 221-222.
66. Ibid., 222.
67. Laban, Language of Movement, 125.
68. Notable examples include applications in cultural anthropology,
industrial psychology, and psychotherapy.
69. Laban, Language of Movement, 48.

Plate A.
Superimposed
octahedra.
Rudolf Laban Archive
L/E/10/16 NRCD.

Plate B. Angular circuits in

icosahedra and
dodecahedron.
Rudolf Laban Archive NRCD.

Plate C. Three-dimensional manipulations of pentagons and heptagons.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/38/29 NRCD.

Plate D. Pentagonal shapes used to generate poses.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/1/87, L/C/1/88 NRCD.

Plate E. Tetrahedral pose.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/6/56 NRCD.

Plate F. Sequential unfolding of movement within crystalline shapes.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/7/152 NRCD.

Plate G. Sculptural version

of dance trace-form.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/F/7/68 NRCD.

Plate H. Lemniscatic sculpture. Rudolf Laban Archive L/F/7/84 NRCD.

Plate I. Seascape done on holiday. Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/9/65 NRCD.

Plate J. Crayon portrait.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/9/1 NRCD.

Plate K.
Figure surrounded by
angular trace-form.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/5/86 NRCD.

Plate L. Trace-form as
biomorphic curves.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/6/24 NRCD.

Plate M. Figures in hexagonal outline of icosahedron.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/4/7 NRCD.

Plate N. Proportional
nesting of cube,
dodecahedron, and
icosahedron.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/4/5
NRCD.

Plate O. Proportional
nesting of octahedron,
intersecting tetrahedra,
and cube.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/4/72
NRCD.

Letters represent directions as follows:

Plate P. Labans correlations of musical tones and intervals with the

signal points of the right A scale and its related standard scale.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/4/72 NRCD.

Plate Q. Topological manipulation of skeletal octahedron.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/17/16 NRCD.

Plate R. Hypercubic model of complete effort affinities.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/7/35 NRCD.

Plate S. The flow shape,

surrounded by skeletal
dodecahedron.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/1/32 NRCD.

Plate T. The time shape,

surrounded by skeletal
dodecahedron.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/1/31 NRCD.

Plate U. The space shape,

surrounded by skeletal
dodecahedron.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/1/33 NRCD.

Plate V. The weight shape,

surrounded by skeletal
dodecahedron.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/1/21 NRCD.

CHAPTER 5

Effort: The Inner Domain of Human Movement

The Dancer Moves from Mood to Mood
As noted in Chapter 4, Laban observed that the dancer moves, not
only from place to place, but also from mood to mood. In so doing, he
identified dual aspects of human movement: the physical and the mental/
emotional. These aspects are not of the same nature. Physical movements
through space are visible. Thoughts and feelings, on the other hand, are
non-material. The ephemeral shift from mood to mood cannot be observed
directly, but can be inferred by what a person does and, more significantly,
by how an action is performed.
The how of movement is what Laban initially called Eukinetics
and later renamed effort. In his view, voluntary human movement
springs from an inner intent that results in an observable action. The
inner intent modifies the quality of an action, just as an adverb modifies
a verb. Consider a simple sequence of actions such as entering a room,
placing a bag on the floor and sitting down. One individual storms
furiously into the room, hurling the bag at the floor, and planting herself
forcefully in the chair. Another person ambles slowly into the room,
casually dropping the bag, and slumping passively in the chair. The series
of actions is the same, but the contrasting manner of performance suggests
that the inner moods of these two movers are different. While the internal
flow of thought and feeling is inscrutable, inner impulses cast dynamic
shadows that color the way visible movement is performed. This chapter
introduces Labans conceptual framework of movement dynamics,
delineating the inner impulses that become visible as effort takes shape
in space.
Evolving a Theory of Movement Dynamics
Labans effort concepts appear to have been developed later than
other aspects of his theoretical work and, as would be expected in
naturalistic research, to have been subject to periodic revision. Gaps in

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documentation make it difficult to present a coherent chronology of

development.1 Nevertheless, in terms of understanding the place of effort
in Labans theory of movement harmony, several points can be argued.
First, Labans taxonomy of movement dynamics developed separately
from his dance notation system but not separately from his harmonic
theories. Secondly, the taxonomy shifted from being a description of dance
dynamics to becoming a more general descriptive framework for
movement observation and analysis. Finally, while Labans effort
terminology has demonstrated its value as an empirical system of
movement description, certain aspects of the theory need further
validation.
An analogy with music may serve to elucidate the first point. Musical
notation records melody, harmony, and rhythm the key structural
elements of a composition. The feeling of a piece is embedded in its
harmonic and rhythmic structure, in the sense that the choice of major or
minor key, meter, and tempo all convey clues to the compositions mood
and meaning. If additional guidance regarding dynamics is needed, this
is provided by verbal annotations and expression marks in the score.
These annotations indicate dynamic variations in the manner of
performance, providing additional guidance for the musician who is
responsible for bringing the work to life.
Labans approach to creating a notation for dance concentrated on
capturing the structure of the movement event by recording actions of
the body in the kinesphere. Perhaps because Laban perceived a harmonic
relationship between body and space, he assumed that indications of the
mood of a choreographic composition would be embedded in the notation,
just as it is in a musical score. While origins of what Laban later
developed as a theory of Eukinetics and Effort can be found in all his
German texts,2 symbols for recording dynamics were not refined until
the 1940s, long after the rudiments of the notation system had been
established. Consequently, effort theory stands in relation to dance
notation as expression marks and verbal annotations stand to a musical
score; that is, as additional directives to the performer rather than key
elements of structure.3 This is due to an accident of history, however, and
does not represent the perspective of Labans mature theoretical work in

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which kinetic energy and spatial form are viewed as equally important
structural elements of movement harmony.
In chronicling the development of effort theory, Maletic affirms that
Labans first investigations into the dynamic structure of movement
focused on expressive qualities in dance. In the 1920s and 1930s, Laban
referred to this area as Eukinetics, relating it to harmonic principles
in dance. Maletic goes on to observe that Laban developed effort theory
in the 1940s as a complement to Eukinetics.4 This elaboration was
based upon the richer data pool that Laban had obtained through his
analysis of work movement in British industry. These industrial
assignments allowed Laban to test theoretical concepts developed from
the study of expressive movement against observations of functional
actions. Moreover, the examination of clerical and managerial labor in
addition to manual jobs led to the realization that bodily effort could be
observed even in relatively sedentary occupations. As Laban explained,
no matter if we are watching a person at leisure or at work, when dancing,
throwing a ball, or sitting in almost complete rest, we will always be able
to read his bodily behaviour and can learn to know to what effort type he
belongs.5 On the basis of observations such as this drawn from his
naturalistic research, Laban modified dynamic concepts and terminology.
Drawing on her comparative analysis of Labans German and English
writings about movement dynamics, Maletic points out that the
continuum of approaches to some components is juxtaposed to a change
in points of view in others.6 Nevertheless, by 1926 Laban had settled on
four key dynamic elements weight, time, space, and flow. Different
terms for these elements appeared in Labans German writings, and there
were additional changes when Laban later reframed the concepts in
English. Despite these variations in technical terminology, three of
Labans four key dynamic elements remained conceptually stable, while
only the fourth (space) was revised, seemingly on the basis of new data
obtained in the 1940s. This suggests that Eukinetics and effort are two
versions of one taxonomy that Laban adapted over time to account for
new sorts of observational data, enhancing the general applicability of
the descriptive scheme. As he wrote in an unpublished manuscript from
the 1940s, the unrestricted range of efforts used in the modern art of

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movement, and the possibility of recording the rhythms built up from all
these efforts have created a kind of universal effort language.7 Maletic
concurs with this view, noting that effort theory considers the various
qualities of mind-body movement involved in human exertion in general.8
Consequently, the taxonomy detailed in this chapter draws on Labans
later writings in English. To circumvent confusion, when differing terms
are used in relation to a motion factor or an effort quality, these terms
should be viewed as being synonymous.
Through the 1940s and 1950s Laban continued to elaborate effort
theory, primarily by drawing correlations of two types. First, as part of
his ongoing research on movement harmony, Laban examined
relationships between effort elements and areas of the space around the
body to see if there was any pattern of naturally-occuring affinity. Two
models had been formulated based on his work in dance, and these
presumably received further verification from observation and
experimentation with workers.9 Nevertheless, these affinities should be
viewed as hypothetical connections rather than absolute givens. Secondly,
through his contacts with psychotherapists in the 1950s, Laban became
familiar with the theories of Carl Gustav Jung. Jungs ideas provided
Laban with a framework for thinking about effort in psychological terms.
Subsequently Laban postulated correlations between dynamic elements
of movement and the four states of mind thinking, feeling, sensing, and
intuiting that Jung identified as functions of consciousness. These
connections seem to have played a role in how Laban systematically
theorized complexly-nuanced effort expressions. While Laban correctly
conceives movement as a psychophysical phenomenon, the specific
correlations he draws between effort and psychological states should be
viewed as hypothetical.
Elements of Effort: The Four Motion Factors
Laban wrote that movements are bound to evolve in space as well
as in time and in this evolution of movement the weight of the body is
brought into flow.10 These four motion factors flow, weight, time, and
space are the fundamental building blocks of Labans effort taxonomy.
Laban observes these motion factors in both functional and expressive

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actions. Effort is volitional, and Laban applies the concept to voluntary,

rather than involuntary, movements. Thus each motion factor represents
a different sort of inner intent: flow is the effort exerted to control
movement; weight is the effort exerted to apply the right amount of force;
time is the effort exerted to pace movement adroitly; and space, when
used as an effort term, is the effort exerted to aim movement accurately.
One may conclude, Maletic explains, that Labans concept of effort
unifies the actual, physical, quantitative and measurable properties of
movement with the virtual, perceivable, qualitative, and classifiable
qualities of movement and dance.11
In actions that are subject to human volition, Laban discerns a dynamic
power that enables us to choose between a resisting, constricting
withholding, fighting attitude, or one of yielding, enduring, accepting,
indulging in relation to the motion factors.12 Consequently, Laban
characterized effort variation of each motion factor as an oscillation
between opposite qualities, one which has a fighting character and the
other which has an indulging character.
Flow. The effort element of flow varies between binding and freeing.
According to Laban, the flow is bound in an action capable of being
stopped and held without difficulty at any moment during the
movement.13 These actions appear restrained or even tense and represent
the fighting aspect of the flow continuum. In contrast, the freeing of flow
occurs in an action in which it is difficult to stop the movement
suddenly.14 Such motions are easy-going and fluent and represent the
indulging side of the flow continuum. Variations in flow allow for fluid
changes in the ongoing degree of control needed for different movement
tasks.
Weight. The effort element of weight varies between increasing and
decreasing pressure. According to Laban, a prevailing effort of muscular
tension is necessary to apply pressure and provide resistance.15 Such
movements will appear forceful and firm and represent the fighting aspect
of the weight continuum. On the other hand, in decreasing pressure, Laban
notes, the effort of muscular relaxation prevails, and a state of relaxed
buoyancy is experienced.16 Such actions appear light and delicate,
characterized by a gentle touch that represents the indulging side of the

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weight continuum. Variations in the effort element of weight allow the

mover to handle material objects of different sorts with the appropriate
amount of force. In expressive actions, weight variation manifests as
differing degrees of strong or slight emphasis.
Time. The effort element of time varies between accelerating and
decelerating. The effort to accelerate, Laban observes, produces a special
kind of energetic suddenness.17 The speed of the motion increases and
there is a sense of energetic hurry and rapid activity, representing the
fighting aspect of the time continuum. Alternatively, Laban notes that
the effort to decelerate necessitates a continuous muscular function.18
This sustained effort serves to slow the movement, drawing out and
extending the process of the action in an indulgent manner. Varying the
effort element of time makes duration pliable, allowing actions to be
hurriedly condensed or luxuriously extended, depending upon the mood
of the mover.
Space. The effort element of space varies between the qualities of
directing and indirecting. In actions of great directness, Laban writes, a
well-traced pattern having no plasticity is produced.19 The movement
has a singular focus and progresses linearly, as if homing in on a target,
representing the fighting aspect of the space continuum. In contrast, an
indirect or flexible effort, according to Laban, brings about continuous
changes of the direction of the movement.20 Motions become pliant and
roundabout, taking in a multiplicity of points of orientation in an indulgent
manner. Varying the effort element of space facilitates precise execution
and flexible adjustment in how the movement is aimed in relation to an
object or the environment.
The four motion factors of flow, weight, time and space and their
eight contrasting effort qualities are the basic elements from which
Labans taxonomy of movement mood is developed. These basic elements
are shown in Figure 5-1.
Given the limited number of elements, effort theory appears to be
extremely parsimonious, and one wonders how such a simple system can
possibly capture the infinite variety and dynamic nuance of human
movement. The answer is that in naturally-occurring movements, the effort
elements are combined and sequenced in an almost infinite variety of

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Motion Factors

Fighting attitude Indulging attitude

Flow

Binding

Freeing

Weight

Increasing Pressure

Decreasing Pressure

Time

Accelerating

Decelerating

Space

Directing

Indirecting

Figure 5-1. Motion factors and effort qualities.

ways. At the theoretical level, Laban worked through the combinations
of these elements methodically. This is what has come to be known as
his theory of effort states (combinations of two qualities), effort drives
(combinations of three qualities), and complete efforts (combinations
of four qualities). Laban characterizes the last by noting that a person
indulging in all motion factors will be able to deal with all tasks demanding
free flow of motion, fine touch, flexibility and sustainment. In contrast,
a person habitually fighting against all the four motion factors will deal
with work exacting controlled or bound flow of motion, great strength,
use of the shortest and most direct way in all his movement and an ability
function with quick impulses.21 He goes on to point out that one will
hardly find a normal individual who exclusively indulges in or fights
against these motion factors, because the richness of peoples efforts
consists just in the fact that their effort characteristics are an incredibly
subtle mixture of many degrees of attitudes towards several motion
factors.22 Laban developed symbols to capture these subtle combinations
of kinetic energy.
Notation Basics. A simple, graph-like notation is used to record the
flow of weight in time and space. This graph is shown in Figure 5-2. The
horizontal line represents flow; the vertical line, weight; the right angle,
space; and the broken line, time. By combining parts of these lines with
a short diagonal stroke, all eight effort qualities can be recorded in a kind
of shorthand. There is a logic to this notation. If the diagonal stroke is

154

Figure 5-2. The effort graph.

155

extended, all the line segments to the left represent indulging effort
qualities, while all the segments to right stand for the fighting effort
qualities.
Combinations of effort qualities (states and drives) can be recorded
by combining symbols from the effort graph. Sequences of mood change
can also be notated, as in the simple motif shown in Figure 5-3 (read
from left to right).

Figure 5-3. Notated motif of effort change.

The Dynamosphere
The movement from mood to mood begins inwardly, in what might
be termed psychological space. Laban conceptualized this psychological
domain as the inner world in which impulses continually surge and seek
an outlet in doing, acting and dancing.23 He called this inner world the
dynamosphere and defined it as the space in which our dynamic actions
take place.24 While the dynamosphere is a virtual, rather than an actual
space, it can be thought of as a model structure that parallels the
kinesphere. As Laban writes, it is the similarity of concentration and
dispersion in outer space and creation and destruction in inner space,
which allows a relatively exact determination and control of these
apparently so different domains.25 Thus if the kinesphere has a physical
geography of changing forms, then the dynamosphere may be said to
have a psychological landscape of shifting moods. Laban applied
combinational analysis to enumerate these moods, establishing landmarks
and place names for the shifting landscapes of the dynamosphere. In
addition, he attempted to correlate dynamic states with psychological
functions, reinforcing his view of effort as a visible expression of the
inner world of thought and feeling.

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Effort and Consciousness. As noted earlier, Laban initially perceived

two fundamental psychological attitudes: one of resisting or fighting the
physical conditions influencing movement, the other of yielding and
accepting these conditions. These attitudes were used in the construction
of bipolar qualities for each of the four motion factors. In later years,
Laban hypothesized correlations between these four motion factors and
the four functions of consciousness theorized by Jung: sensing, thinking,
feeling, and intuiting. Jung used these constructs to develop a dense theory
of personality type in which each function is modified by many other
psychological factors such as attitudes of extraversion or introversion,
conscious development or unconscious regression, and so on.26 Put simply,
however, Jung explained the four functions as follows: Sensation (i.e.
sense-perception) tells you that something exists; thinking tells you what
it is; feeling tells you whether it is agreeable or not; and intuition tells
you whence it comes and where it is going.27
To elaborate, the function of sensing has to do with the perception of
what is tangible and palpable in the immediate environment. Laban
associated this perceptive function with the motion factor of weight and
the intent to apply pressure firmly or delicately. As Bloom puts it, weight
relates to the physical-sensory world, the actual material substance of
the body, and the sense of touch.28
The function of thinking has to do with rational judgment based upon
the analysis and classification of sensory data in relation to ideas and
concepts. Laban associated this function with the motion factor of space
and the effort exerted to orient oneself directly or flexibly in the
environment. According to Bloom, space relates to ones point of view
on the outside world. It implies a space for reflection and thought, and is
therefore related to the mind, to the mental aspect of experience.29
The function of feeling allows one to establish what one likes and
what one dislikes, and this judgment is often experienced as a visceral
reaction of attraction or repulsion, pleasure or pain. Laban associated
feeling with the motion factor of flow and the effort to move with fluid
abandon or to hold motion in check. Bloom sees the control or release of
tension as analogous to the control or release of feelings and relates
flow to the experience of emotion in the body.30

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Finally, the function of intuiting has to do with sudden perceptions

and insights that seemingly do not arise from immediate sense perception
or methodical reasoning. Laban associated this function with the motion
factor of time. Here Laban seems to be drawing on Bergsons idea that
intuition is the direct apprehension of a living time that is experienced
from within.31 Living time does not move smoothly at a steady rate;
some hours fly by, while other hours creep. Laban appears to see the
decisive effort to speed up or slow down as arising from this internal,
hence intuitive sense of timing.
In addition to correlating the motion factors with Jungs scheme,
Laban drew other psychological relationships, seemingly of his own
devising. For example, he related the motion factor of space to the faculty
of paying attention, noting that the predominant tendency here is to
orientate oneself and find a relationship to the matter of interest either in
an immediate, direct way or in a circumspective, flexible one. 32 The
motion factor of weight was correlated with intention, for the desire to
do a certain thing may take hold of one sometimes powerfully and firmly,
sometimes gently and slightly.33 Laban associated the motion factor of
time with decisions that can be made either unexpectedly and suddenly
or developed gradually.34 Finally, the motion factor of flow was
correlated with precision or progression and the ability to attune
oneself to action by controlling and binding the natural flux of the
process or by giving it an unrestricted and free run. 35 Laban
summarized these correlations by noting that attention, intention, and
decision are stages of the inner preparation of an outer bodily action.
This comes about when, through the flow of movement, effort finds
concrete expression in the body.36
If these correlations are at best approximations and hypotheses, they
nevertheless represent a pioneering effort to address the psychological
dimensions of human movement objectively. Laban recognized inherent
challenges in exploring this uncharted territory, for he admitted it is
difficult to attach names to effort variations as they are concerned with
pure movement experience and expression.37 Labans labeling of effort
combinations is informed by his psychological observations, but these
interpretations should be viewed as possibilities rather than absolutes.38

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Obviously, actual movement experience provides another inroad of

understanding. As effort theory is discussed, first schematically and then
descriptively in this chapter, it is worth remembering Labans admonition:
Although in analysis we look at movement from the standpoint of an
outside observer, we should try to feel it sympathetically from within.39
Kinesthetic experience deepens understanding, for through the bodily
perspective it is possible to reveal the connection between emotion within
ourselves and movement outside ourselves.40
Combinational Analysis in Effort Theory. Laban enumerated
movement moods by systematically analyzing all possible combinations
of motion factors and effort qualities. With the four motion factors (flow,
weight, time, and space) and the eight effort qualities (freeing-binding,
increasing pressure-decreasing pressure, accelerating-decelerating, and
directing-indirecting), it is possible to delineate a variety of movement
moods. Just as the primary hues of red, blue, and yellow can be combined
to create orange, green, and purple and more subtle shades such as redorange, blue-green, and red-violet, so too can effort elements be combined
in pairs, trios, and even quartets, vividly coloring bodily actions.
Combinations of two motion factors are referred to as effort states.
There are six possible combinations: 1) flow and weight, 2) flow and
time, 3) flow and space, 4) space and time, 5) space and weight, and 6)
weight and time. Since two different qualities may be discerned for each
motion factor, there are four possible combinations of effort qualities for
each of these six states, making 24 configurations in all.
Combinations of three motion factors are referred to as effort drives.
There are four possible combinations: 1) weight + space + time, 2) weight
+ space + flow, 3) space + time + flow, 4) weight + time + flow. Since
two different qualities may be discerned for each motion factor, there are
eight possible combinations of effort qualities for each of these four drives,
resulting in 32 configurations in all.
Combinations of four motion factors are referred to as complete
efforts. These moods are extreme in their intensity, and consequently
rarely seen in normal behavior. There are 16 possible configurations of
complete efforts.

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All in all, Laban identified 72 distinctive movement moods.41 Thus,

while the effort taxonomy is quite parsimonious in terms of the number
of fundamental elements, it unfolds kaleidoscopically as the eight qualities
of flow, weight, time, and space are combined in various ways. As Laban
conceived it, human effort is rich and variegated in expression: A motion
factor appearing singly involves an inner regulating function (of thinking,
feeling, intuiting, or sensing); a combination of two motion processes
reveals a kind of general state; and a threefold combination reveals an
externalized drive.42 Consequently, the inner world of the dynamosphere
encompasses many dramatic and contrasting landscapes.

Effort States

Landscapes of the Dynamosphere

Effort States. A state occurs when only two motion factors give
shading to a movement. States lack dynamic intensity and for this reason
Laban referred to them as incomplete efforts.43 As Bartenieff observes,
in everyday behavior, in work actions and in dance and drama, these
two-element combinations often appear as fleeting transitions.44 States
may serve as preparation for more dynamically-loaded actions, or as
recuperation from major exertions.
As noted in the preceding section, the four motion factors can be
paired to create six contrasting states, shown in Figure 5-4. The feeling
of these subtly nuanced movement moods is difficult to capture adequately
Motion Factors:

Flow

Mobile

Stable

Weight

Awake
Dream
Remote
Near (Rhythm)

X
X

X
X

Time

X
X
X

Figure 5-4. Motion factors combined in effort states.

Space

X
X
X

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in words, but the names Laban chose provide some insight into the
dynamic character of each state. For example, the mobile quality of
ongoing progression (time and flow) contrasts a stable mood of grounded
and watchful presence (weight and space). The quality of being awake
(space and time) contrasts with being in a moody dream (weight and
flow). A state of remote detachment (space and flow) contrasts being in
rhythmic synchrony with activity near at hand (weight and time).
Further definition of these moods is established when the qualitative
configurations of each state are worked out. Since each state combines
two motion factors, and each factor varies between two effort qualities,
there are four dynamic configurations for each state. Possible blendings
of space and time in the mobile state are shown in Figure 5-5.

Figure 5-5. Mobile state configurations.

This enumeration of states of mobility introduces some novel
concepts. For instance, it is easy to associate mobility with free flowing
acceleration, as embodied in running headlong down a hill. It is, perhaps,
less easy to conceive of mobility in terms of some of the other effort
combinations outlined above. Yet, to progress an action adroitly, there
are many times when a dancer must slow down carefully (decelerating
with binding), sustain a motion in a relaxed way (decelerating with
freeing), or bring a movement to a sudden stop (binding and accelerating).
True mobility encompasses the full range of flow and time variations.
Similarly, Laban posits the combination of weight and space as a
stable state manifesting in steadfastness which may be resolute and

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stubborn or sensitively receptive. It may also be solid and powerful or

delicately pinpointing.45 Labans description captures some of the
surprising forms that stability may take. In this sense, Labans use of
combinational logic provides an innovative structure for movement
exploration as well as a systematic framework for observation and
description.
Effort Drives. Laban referred to combinations of three motion factors
as drives. The four different drives are outlined in Figure 5-6. These
movement moods are intensely colored and demanding to perform both
physically and psychologically. In each of these drives, one of the motion
factors is latent; that is, it does not appear to change. While all movement
would seem to involve the flow of weight in time and space, for a motion
factor to be effortful, it must be dynamic.46 One must be able to observe
variation in the degree of control, pressure, pace, or aim. When there is
no fluctuation in a motion factor, it is said to be latent. For example, if a
movement progresses at a steady pace, neither speeding up nor slowing
down, the motion factor of time is said to be latent. Weight is latent when
there is no discernible change in pressure, space is latent if the movers
focus is undeviating, and flow is latent when a steady degree of control
is maintained.
The nature of each drive, consequently, is based not only upon the
three effort elements that are dynamically present, but also upon the factor
Motion Factors

Flow

Weight

Time

Space

X
X

Passion
(space-less)

X
X

Vision
(weight-less)

Spell
(timeless)

Effort Drives

Action
(flow-less)

Figure 5-6. Motion factors in effort drives.

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that is missing or latent. This is seemingly paradoxical. Yet all of a human

beings faculties thinking, feeling, sensing, and intuiting are seldom
brought to bear in a concerted action. It is the differentiated involvement
of faculties that is embodied in the drives, giving each a unique character.
The Action Drive. The Action Drive occurs when qualities of weight,
time, and space are simultaneously crystallized in a movement. Laban
codified the Action Drive when he observed patterns of workers
movements for wartime industrial studies.47 The prevalence in work of
weight, time, space combinations makes sense. In accomplishing practical
tasks, it is necessary to focus on the job (variations in space effort), to
control the speed of work (variations in time effort), and to apply the
appropriate amount of force in handling materials and tools (variations
in weight effort). In the midst of productive labor, how one feels about
the task is often subsumed by the simple desire to get the job done as
swiftly and effectively as possible. Thus flow, which Laban saw as the
emotional element in movement, remains latent in the matter-of-fact
embodiment of Action Drive.
There are eight possible combinations of the Action Drive. Laban
found that common verbs capture the dynamic qualities of these basic
actions adequately.48 These names are listed, along with the effort
components of each combination in Figure 5-7. Combinations have been
arranged in contrasting pairs (e.g., float vs. punch, flick vs. press). A
common task in which each combination might appear is included in the
chart as an example.
The Passion Drive. While the Action Drive reflects the impulse to
accomplish practical tasks without undue emotionality, the Passion Drive
embodies the full range of intense human feeling as it is expressed in
motion. Passion Drive combines qualities of weight, time, and flow (see
Figure 5-6). Passion can be thought of as a transformation of Action
Drive, in which flow takes the place of space. Space effort, which Laban
related to thinking, becomes latent. This gives a clue to the unreasonable
nature of the Passion Drive. Caught in a powerful flow of feeling, the
mover loses his or her orientation and momentarily slips from the bonds
of rational thought. When one is blind with rage, intoxicated with joy, or
overcome with grief, there is a momentary loss of focus. One ceases to

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Figure 5-7. Action Drive combinations.

pay attention to ones surroundings, as outer reality pales before the
surging of powerful inner emotion.
Passion Drive will most often be observed in moments of emotional
outburst, such as a childs tearful tantrum, a heated argument, or a
passionate embrace. As with the Action Drive, there are eight possible
configurations of Passion Drive. These combinations reflect a gamut of
feelings in motion, from swooning with pleasure to straining in agony.
Laban did not attempt to give names to these nuanced expressions of
feeling, for this is highly individual. One persons anger is cold and
controlled while another persons anger bursts forth vehemently. It is
possible, however, to embody all eight Passion Drive combinations, and,
through the resonance of bodily experience, survey the landmarks in this
area of the dynamosphere for oneself.
The Vision Drive. Yet another vista is presented by the Vision Drive,
which combines the qualities of space, time, and flow (Figure 5-6). In
this transformation of the Action Drive, flow replaces weight. Weight
effort, which Laban related to visceral sensation, becomes latent. Weight

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effort is the movers responsive dialogue with gravity, gravity being the
omnipresent force that holds us to the earth. When weight effort becomes
latent, the mover momentarily slips from gravitys grasp. It is no longer
necessary to grapple intentionally with practical matters; one is free to
soar fluidly on the wings of thought and intuition.
In dance, Vision Drive is frequently used to create the illusion of
completely overcoming body weight, as in an ethereal ballet adagio.49
Movement disciplines that emphasize achieving a form with a minimum
of force or strain, such as Tai Chi, may also utilize Vision Drive
combinations. Relatively sedentary activities that require concentration,
such as studying, writing, or designing, can transport the mover into the
Vision Drive. Escapist recreations window shopping, idly browsing
through magazines or surfing the Internet may also induce a visionary
experience in which down-to-earth concerns are transcended temporarily.
Again, there are eight unnamed configurations of Vision Drive
representing a range of moods, from the most indulgently speculative to
the most urgently concentrated.
The Spell Drive. The fourth drive that Laban identified is known as
the Spell Drive. The Spell Drive combines qualities of weight, space,
and flow (Figure 5-6). In this transformation of the Action Drive, flow
replaces time. Time effort, which Laban related to intuition, becomes
latent. It is no longer necessary to be decisively energetic because time
passes so steadily as to become imperceptible or even to seem to stand
still. This timelessness has an uncanny and hypnotic quality that Laban
associated with casting a spell or becoming spell-bound.
Spell Drive can occur in moments of being so engrossed that one
loses all sense of time. Methodical operations that require steady attention
and control can lead to a hypnotic and spell-like mechanization if they
lose their rhythmic quality.50 Maletic notes that when we watch a horror
movie we sometimes get spell bound. 51 North asserts that timelessness
may be experienced in extreme fear or terror.52 On the other hand,
Spell Drive can be irresistibly fascinating and may also be used to
persuade, attract, or seduce. Again, there are eight nameless
configurations, ranging from movement moods that are delicately alluring
to those that are powerfully mesmerizing.

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Relating States to Drives. All the effort drives require concentrated

physical and mental exertion. Drives are intense and only manifest
momentarily in streams of movement behavior. Consequently, most
movement phrases consist of less intense combinations of effort that serve
as preparations for and recuperations from the energetic concentration
of the drives. There is a relationship, then, between the less intense states
(Figure 5-4) and the more dynamic drives (Figure 5-6). States can
crescendo into drives, or serve as recuperative decrescendos.
Three states support the Action Drive. The awake state (space and
time) creates a mood of alert attentiveness to what is occurring in the
present moment. The stable state (weight and space) creates a sense of
steadfast, perceptive presence and is often employed in holding and
steadying materials that are being worked upon. The near state (weight
and time) creates a down-to-earth attitude and facilitates a rhythmic
handling of tools and tasks.
Three states relate to the Passion Drive. These are the near state
(weight and time), the mobile state (flow and time) and the dream state
(flow and weight). The weight and time combinations of the near state
are earthy and visceral. The flow and time combinations of the mobile
state are as fleeting and mercurial as feeling itself. The flow and weight
combinations of the dream state transport the mover into a light-hearted
fantasy of ease or plunge the mover into a nightmarish mood of discomfort.
There are three states associated with the Vision Drive. The mobile
state (flow and time) facilitates fluid and intuitive perception. The awake
state (space and time) promotes a heightened alertness or sustained
attention to the present situation. The remote state (space and flow)
supports a timeless concentration that transcends the movers immediate
surroundings.
Finally, there are three states that are connected to the Spell Drive.
In the remote state (space and flow), one is giving attention, but not to
ones immediate environment; instead one is preoccupied or deeply
concentrated. The dream state (weight and flow) recalls those sensations
one sometimes experiences when dreaming sensations of flowing
suspension, as in soaring, or feelings of agonized restraint, as in running
through tar. The stable state (weight and space) relates to a kind of timeless

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enduring, as in being rooted firmly and fixedly or prevailing with a delicate

flexibility.
A cubic model of the dynamosphere depicting the relationships
between motion factors, drives, and states can be found in unpublished
documents in the Rudolf Laban Archive.53 In this geometric model Laban
uses corners, edges, and oblique surface lines across the faces of the
cube to create an ingenious representation of eukinetic theory. Laban has
arrayed elements of his effort taxonomy in the following way. The four
motion factors are matched with four of the eight corners of the cube.
The four drives are matched with the other four corners and situated
opposite the motion factor they lack. For example, Vision Drive is placed
at the right forward high corner of the cube, while the motion factor of
weight is placed opposite, at the left back low corner. This arrangement
of motion factors and drives is shown in Figure 5-8.

Figure 5-8. Motion factors and effort drives.

Now, Laban connects the Vision Drive in the right forward high corner
with the Spell Drive in the left back high corner. That diagonal line on
the top surface corresponds to the remote state (see Figure 5-9). Note
that the two other corners of the top square, flow and space, are the two
motion factors that are combined in the remote state itself.

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Figure 5-9. Remote state in relation to drives/motion factors.

Altogether, the six states are placed on oblique surface lines across
the six faces of the cube, as shown in Figures 5-10 and 5-11. These surface
lines connect the corners where the four drives are placed. The state that
is situated on a given surface line will be common to the two drives that
the line connects.
Contrasting states are positioned opposite one another (see Figures
5-10 and 5-11). Thus, the remote state (space/flow combinations) is on
the top of the cube, while its opposite, the near state (weight/time
combinations), is placed on the bottom of the cube. The mobile state
(time/flow) is on the front surface of the cube, while the stable state
(weight/space) is situated on the back wall. The awake state (time/space)
is placed on the right face of the cube, while the dream state (weight/
flow) is opposite, on the left face of the cube.
In addition to being represented as connecting links between drives,
the effort state lines surround a corner where one of the motion factors is
situated. For example, in Figure 5-10, Laban has positioned the remote
(space/flow), stable (space/weight), and awake (space/time) states on
the three faces that intersect at the right back high corner of the cube,
where the motion factor of space has been placed. Space is the motion
factor that is common to these three states (see Figure 5-4).

le
ab
st

awa
ke

168

Figure 5-10. Cubic model of states and drives (1).

Figure 5-11. Cubic model of states and drives (2).

In Figure 5-11, three states intersect in the lower left front corner.
This is the corner where Laban positioned the Passion Drive. The three
states that meet at this corner mobile (flow/time), near (weight/time),
and dream (weight/flow) are all related to this drive.
Without extending this description to the point of tedium, it will
suffice to note that this cube represents all the significant relationships
of effort theory in one model. Laban also developed octahedral and
tetrahedral models that are equally effective representations.54 Although
the ways in which motion factors, states, and drives are matched to each

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polyhedron vary, a consistency of approach can be detected. It is notable

that Laban favors three-dimensional geometrical schemes as ways of
modeling not only the choreutic domain of his movement taxonomy, but
also the eukinetic domain.
Complete Effort Combinations. The full effort combinations, in
which flow, weight, space, and time qualities are all simultaneously
manifested, represent extreme states of mind. In these moods, the flow
of intense feeling is added to the weight, space, and time of Action Drive
combinations. According to Bartenieff, at its peak the action becomes
involuntary. Through the addition of flow, it appears as if the movers
volition has been usurped by the totality of the Effort involvement. Full
effort combinations involving fighting qualities are like destructive
confrontations, while those combinations involving indulging qualities
become avoidance of confrontation, escaping. Both can be interpreted
as extreme survival responses.55 Fortunately, these movement moods
are relatively uncommon. Less energetic moods, ranging from states to
drives, predominate in human movement behavior.
Patterns of Effort Change
Effort moods are ephemeral. Just as thoughts and feelings come and
go, the effort states and drives change constantly. There is an ebb and
flow in human movement that is healthy, for the unchanging embodiment
of any one mood becomes a visible sign of pathology. Laban recognized
that dynamic change in movement behavior is vitally necessary and highly
individual, but he also looked for patterns or laws that could be conceived
to govern movement variation. In his investigations of kinespheric traceforms, Laban found that patterns of stability and mobility alternate
endlessly.56 Meanwhile, examination of dynamospheric fluctuations
revealed a different sort of underlying rhythm, one that Laban
conceptualized broadly as a pattern of exertion and recuperation.
Exertion obviously requires effort. It is of interest to note that Laban
also found that the act of recovery cannot take place without effort. He
does not correlate exertion with activity and recuperation with passive
rest. Rather exertion and recuperation are both active phases in a
movement sequence.

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It will be recalled that Laban conceptualized effort as a bipolar

variation in quality, expressing an inner attitude of resisting or accepting
the physical conditions influencing movement.57 It is tempting, then, to
assume that the resisting or fighting effort qualities comprise exertion
and that the accepting or indulging qualities are recuperative. Yet this
is not what Laban found. Instead, he discovered that the effort used
with a non-fighting indulgence does not always involve a low degree of
exertion. It uses rather a different kind of effort, clearly distinguishable
from the fighting effort. Thus exertion need not be vigorous or laborious,
for it can also take a calm and almost strainless form.58 Similarly, in
Labans view, it would be wrong to consider an energetic inner attitude
of fighting against something as incompatible with recovery.59 As he
points out, many sports have a fighting character yet serve as a
recuperative pastimes.
Exertion, then, does not necessarily involve only fighting effort
qualities, nor does recovery utilize only indulging ones. The matter is
more complex. The types of effort qualities exercised in exertion and
used in recovery must alternate with one another in a definite rhythm,
according to Laban.60 He applied this rhythmic concept in his consultations
in industry. In repetitive labor, the same configurations of states and drives
recur monotonously throughout work day. This not only makes such jobs
dull and tiring, it also creates a persistent mood that threatens to disrupt
normal patterns of movement variation. Merely mandating periodic rests
that is, cessation of all effort does little to restore balance in the
dynamosphere. In Labans view, recuperation is active, and work
movements in repetitive labor need to be choreographed to achieve a
healthy alternation of effort qualities. As Preston-Dunlop describes, if
the job required a downward pressure then he [Laban] introduced,
somewhere in the movement phrase, an upward movement and released
pressure.61 Thus through the rhythmic alternation of fighting and
indulging effort qualities, Laban sought to maintain dynamic vitality and
a balanced expression of dynamospheric impulses.
The alternation of fighting and indulging efforts is a simple theoretical
model of effort patterning, but Laban himself admitted that what may be
simple in theory becomes much more complex in practice if the

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change between effort and recovery were a simple rhythmical change

occurring at well-discernible regular intervals, it could be regarded as a
waste of time to scrutinize the relationship of these two functions.62
Spontaneous movement behavior is much more complicated. This is
because, as Bartenieff points out, a movement sequence can be perceived
on many levels, for instance, as a body action, a spatial action, and/or
an action with varying degrees of Effort qualities. In each case, the action
can be simple, e.g., moving one body part in one direction with one Effort
dominant, or, complex, involving more body parts in more directions
with more Effort elements. The complexity of the phrasing is increased
as the body, space, and Effort factors of the actions include more
variations.63
Connecting Mood and Place
Laban wrote, man lives in two worlds. The world of the space and
time of his external surroundings and the world of the strength and flow
of his inner center of effort. These two worlds merge in mans action if
oriented outside, towards the external surroundings; and in mans
behaviour, if oriented inside, towards the inner center of effort.64 Labans
taxonomy mirrors this differentiation, with Choreutics dealing with the
outer physical domain of human movement and Eukinetics addressing
the inner psychological domain. While the discrete separation of inner
and outer domains is useful for analytical purposes, every bodily
movement involves spatial relocations and the use of kinetic energy. Thus,
the kinesphere and the dynamosphere should not be thought of as separate
universes, but as interpenetrating ones. As Laban insisted, the experience
of the interdependence of dynamospheric and kinespheric sequences has
shown us that the conventional idea of space as a phenomenon which
can be separated from time and force and from expression, is completely
erroneous.65 Nevertheless, having established separate taxonomies for
effort and space, Laban had to grapple with the problem of how the shifting
landscapes of the dynamosphere could be conceived to relate to the
geometric geographies of the kinesphere.
Labans preliminary solution to this conundrum was straightforward.
He had established various geographies of the kinesphere by using

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Platonic solids to create different sets of coordinate points for navigating

the kinesphere. These geometrical frameworks allowed patterns traced
in space to be recorded. If patterns of effort change in the dynamosphere
could also be represented geometrically, these dynamospheric patterns
could be superimposed on kinespheric patterns, since the forms of
representation for the choreutic and eukinetic domains would be
congruent.
The way in which Laban had conceptualized his taxonomy of effort
lent itself to geometric representation. Since each motion factor was
conceived as consisting of bipolar qualities, the contrasting qualities could
be represented as opposite poles along a continuum. Once so represented,
these lines of effort variation could be aligned in three-dimensional space
so as to correspond with visible movement paths in the kinesphere. The
key was to establish empirical correspondences between virtual lines of
effort variation and actual lines of motion.
In examining the relationship between dynamospheric and
kinespheric sequences, Laban found that the body and its limbs are able
to execute certain dynamic nuances in movement towards certain areas
in space better than others.66 On the basis of this observation, he
developed two basic schemes connecting mood and place. The first
scheme, which deals with relationships between dimensional lines of
motion and the effort factors of weight, time and space, appears to be
supported by empirical research.67 The second scheme, correlating
diagonal trajectories and Action Drive compounds, is a logical extension
of the empirically-grounded dimensional model.
Dimensional Affinities. This fundamental scheme relates the lines
of the cardinal dimensions with the motion factors of weight, space, and
time. Laban associates the vertical dimension with variations in the motion
factor of weight. In this scheme, a feeling of lightness is correlated
with the reaching upward to the point where the arm or the body prepares
to relax, while strong, firm movement is related to a foothold
downward. Laban associates the horizontal dimension with variations
in spatial focus. Straight, direct movement is connected to the spatial
restriction resulting from movement across the body, while roundabout
flexible use of space is correlated with movement opening outwards.

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Variations in timing are related to the sagittal dimension. Laban associates

quick, sudden movements with contractions into a backwards direction,
while slow, sustained movements release into a forward direction.68
Labans observations seem plausible. Moreover, his correlations reveal
a formally-ordered coherence, for bipolar effort qualities of a single
motion factor are associated with movements in opposing directions along
a single dimensional axis. Thus, the weight effort qualities of lightness
and strength are situated at opposite ends of the vertical axis of the
octahedron; contrasting qualities of space, at opposite ends of the
horizontal axis; and contrasting qualities of time, at opposite ends of the
sagittal axis. These affinities of effort and space are shown in Figure
5-12. Note that horizontal movements of opening and closing will vary
depending upon the side of the body that is leading. Since this affects
effort affinities, both right-handed and left-handed dimensional models
are shown below.

Left-handed affinities

Right-handed affinities

Figure 5-12. Effort qualities related to dimensions.

Diagonal Affinities. The second model that Laban developed is an
extension of the first. In this model, the cubic diagonals are related to
configurations of the Action Drive. This correlation is based upon Labans
observation that
the average person should be able to reach every part of his body
with his hands. Similarly he will be able to exert each of the
basic efforts [Action Drive combinations] while working on an
object wherever it is placed, in front, behind, above, below or at
either side so long as the object is within easy reach. However,

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due to mans body structure, none of the basic efforts will be

equally well applied in every position, and it has been found that
each basic effort can be used in a specific position relative to the
center of the body more easily than in any other. That is, when
each basic effort is used in its specific position, it will gain the
freest flow. 69
It will be recalled that the ends of the diagonals mark the eight zones
of the kinesphere. Each diagonal trajectory combines equal vertical,
horizontal, and sagittal spatial pulls, and each Action Drive combination
blends qualities of weight, space, and time. Labans correlation of each
cardinal direction with a single effort quality makes it possible to work
out dynamic correlations for the diagonal directions. For example, in
reaching forward toward the upper right corner of the cube with the right
arm, one rises, opens, and advances simultaneously. Rising relates to
decreasing pressure; opening, to indirecting; and advancing, to
decelerating. Thus, a diagonal pathway toward this corner of the cube
can be correlated with a delicate, flexible, leisurely floating action.
The opposite end of this diagonal line of motion is related to the opposite
combination of effort qualities, to a strong, direct, sudden punching
action.
Again, the way in which Laban matched the eight configurations of
the Action Drive to the eight corners of the cube reveals a formal
coherence. Contrasting effort combinations are associated with
movements in opposite directions along each of the four cubic diagonals.
The rest of this scheme is shown in Figure 5-13. Because opening and
closing varies depending upon the side of the body that is leading, righthanded and left-handed cubic models of the affinities are shown.
Labans observations regarding these effort/space affinities should
not be viewed as rigidly predictive of all possible relations of mood and
place. While Laban conceives his models as representing natural
tendencies, he notes that movements of any dynamic shade can, of course,
be made into any desired direction.70 It will be noted that the motion
factor of flow is not incorporated in either model. There is an obvious
explanation: four motion factors cannot be matched to three spatial

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left-handed affinities

right-handed affinities

Figure 5-13. Action Drives related to diagonals.

dimensions. In addition, Laban appears to see flow as an independent
variable that may alter the prescribed relations between dimensional
movements and the motion factors of weight, space, and time. As he
elaborates, the correlation of dimensional movements with dynamic
stresses is most strongly felt in freely-flowing movement, whereas if the
flow is restrained different correlations arise.71 This observation suggests
that volitional control plays a determining role in effort/space
relationships.

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In addition to the exclusion of flow, Labans dimensional and diagonal

models of effort-space relationships fail to address the deflected directions
represented by the planar diameters, peripheral surface lines, and
transverse rays of the icosahedron. Labans published writings do not
provide any icosahedral effort models that could be superimposed on
this geography of space to establish effort affinities for deflected pathways.
Since Labans preferred model of the dynamosphere appears to be the
cube, and his preferred model of the kinesphere is the icosahedron, there
is no congruence between these forms. Patterns modeled in one
geometrical form cannot simply be superimposed on the other to represent
the interpenetrating relationships of effort patterns and spatial trace-forms.
Labans solution to this gap in the theory of effort-space relationships is
discussed in Chapter 9.
The Law of Proximity
The cubic model (Figure 5-13) represents effort-space relationships.
Having established this set of correspondences, Laban used the same
cubic model to analyze effort-effort relationships. He perceived a law
of proximity, noting that there is a close proximity in kinespheric space
between related action-moods, and a growing distance between actionmoods of estranged inner relations.72 Laban based this observation on
delineating three types of spatial relationships between corners of the
cube: 1) corners can be linked by an edge, 2) corners can be linked by an
oblique surface line across one face of the cube, and 3) opposite corners
can be linked by a diagonal ray that passes through the center of the
cube. Establishing the relative distance between these corners reveals
the following: 1) corners that share an edge are close to one another, 2)
corners that lie opposite one another across a face of the cube are slightly
farther apart, and 3) corners that are at opposite ends of a diagonal ray
are the farthest apart.73
When the effort affinities of Labans cubic model (Figure 5-14) are
examined, their arrangement abides by the law of proximity. Action Drive
compounds situated at opposite ends of an edge share two qualities and
differ only in one. For example, cubic corners corresponding to float and
glide are linked by the upper front edge of the cube. These action moods

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GLIDE - FLOAT
GLIDE PUNCH
PUNCH FLOAT

share 2 qualities
share 1 quality
share 0 qualities

Figure 5-14. Proximity or kinship of mood.

share qualities of lightness and sustainment, but differ in the quality of
space (see Figure 5-7). Action configurations situated at opposite corners
of a face share one dynamic quality and differ in two. For example, cubic
corners corresponding to glide and punch are linked by an oblique line
across the surface of the left face of the cube. These action compounds
share the quality of directness, but differ in weight and time qualities.
Finally, action moods situated at diagonally opposite corners of the cube
differ in all three qualities. Float and punch provide an example. These
action moods have nothing in common float is light, sustained, and
indirect while punch is strong, quick, and direct.
Laban derived the cubic arrangement of Action Drive compounds by
modeling effort-space relationships. Yet the model also serves to
demonstrate dynamospheric similarities and differences among effort
compounds. No doubt Laban saw this as another demonstration of the
interdependence of energy and space. Whimsically he likened his cubic
effort model to a town with a good many cross-roads and squares between
houses in which the effort microbes live, observing that it is a curious

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peculiarity of this city that near relatives dwell nearer to each other than
more distant relatives and these live nearer than strangers or enemies.
Hostile effort microbes, who have no effort constituents in common, live
at diametrically opposite sides of the city.74
The law of proximity has important implications for the phrasing of
effort. As Laban elaborates, experience proves that extreme contrasts
of dynamic actions in which there are contrasting elements of all three
fundamental traits, speed, force and directional flux, cannot be performed
by the body immediately one after the other. Transitional movements
must be introduced.75 Transitional moods will be less contrasting. For
example, the fundamental pattern of exertion and recuperation suggests
that a floating action may serve as a recuperation for a punching
movement, or vice versa. The law of proximity, however, indicates that
it is not possible to execute such a dramatic change without intermediary
moods. Or as Laban puts it, a bodily feeling for harmonious movement
does not permit immediate transition between distant action-moods in
the kinesphere.76 This creates an interesting problem: how can effort be
sequenced harmonically so as to move from a punch to a float or vice
versa by gradual increments; that is, by only changing one effort quality
at a time? Labans answer to this question will be addressed in Chapter
8.
Summary: Taxonomy of Effort
Labans taxonomy of effort is based upon a conception of movement
moods composed of four different motion factors: flow, weight, time,
and space. Each of these motion factors is dynamic, oscillating between
oppositional attitudes of fighting and indulging. Thus flow manifests in
movement as a binding or freeing quality of muscular control. Weight
can be perceived as variations in pressure, as an increasing or decreasing
of movement force. Time becomes visible in the process of accelerating
or decelerating the pace of an action, while space is perceptible as
variations in plasticity between a straightforward directness and a
roundabout flexibility.
Effort qualities reflect inner attitudes, for how the mover applies his
or her kinetic energies reveals something about intention and mood. Effort

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moods unfold in the dynamosphere, which Laban conceived as a virtual,

inner space that is analogous to the outer physical space of the kinesphere.
To outline systematically the shifting landscapes of this inner domain of
thought and feeling, Laban used combinational analysis. This led to a
theory of states (combinations of two motion factors), drives
(configurations of three motion factors), and complete effort compounds
(combining all four motion factors). Laban delineated 72 dynamic effort
configurations, all of which can be recorded in a simple, graph-like
notation. In addition, Laban drew upon Jungian theory to hypothesize
various connections between effort elements and functions of
consciousness: the motion factor of space effort was linked with thinking
and attention; weight, with sensing and intention; time, with intuition
and decision-making; and flow, with feeling and attunement.
In Labans view, all movement moods are dynamic and changeable.
Yet beneath this evanescent fluctuation of kinetic energies, a fundamental
pattern of exertion and recuperation can be perceived. Vitality is sustained
by a balanced use of contrasting effort qualities and configurations.
However, as movement becomes more complex, so does the alternating
pattern of exertion and recuperation. Laban found that effort phrases
follow a law of proximity, in which transitional effort configurations
are necessary to modulate the shift from one action-mood to its polar
opposite.
In addition, Laban found that certain effort qualities were embodied
more readily in movements towards particular areas of the kinesphere.
He developed two models representing the interface of effort and space.
One relates effort qualities of weight, time, and space to the cardinal
directions of the octahedron; the other relates Action Drive configurations
to the diagonal directions of the cube.
In Figure 5-15, Labans choreutic and eukinetic taxonomies are
outlined in skeletal form. This means of presentation demonstrates
Labans attempt to create parallel domains in his movement taxonomy in
which Choreutics addresses movement forms in the outer domain of space,
while Eukinetics deals with kinetic elements in the inner domain of
psychological intent. Laban appears to have been concerned with
controlling the number of elements in each domain. Though he reshaped

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concepts on the basis of new observations, he appears to have avoided a

proliferation of terms. This parsimony results in a descriptive framework
that is relatively abstract. This abstraction supports claims that Labans
work is a general theory of human movement, rather than a descriptive
framework for dance alone. On the other hand, practical application of
this taxonomy for purposes of movement description and analysis requires
observers to be able to discern a small number of formal properties within
a wide variety of movement events.
While the crystallization of the choreutic and eukinetic taxonomies
is an accomplishment in itself, Laban saw this as only part of his
theoretical endeavor. He repeatedly observed that, although the unfolding
of movement forms in the kinesphere can be separated from the patterned
fluctuation of effort energies in the dynamosphere for purposes of analysis,
this is an artificial division. The movements from place to place and
the movements from mood to mood form a unified phenomenological
field of human experience. Harmony is the overarching concept that
Laban employed to move from analysis to synthesis, examining the way
in which the inner and outer domains of human movement become one.

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Parallel Movement Domains

CHOREUTICS
EUKINETICS
The study of movement
The study of movement
from place to place
from mood to mood
Where
How
Form
Energy
Kinesphere
Dynamosphere
Outer domain of human
Inner domain of human
movement
movement
Physical
Psychological
Three dimensions
Four motion factors
Opposite directions
Bipolar qualities
Lines, planes, plastic curves
Single effort elements,
states, drives
1-, 2-, 3-dimensional
1, 2, 3 motion factors
Structural integrity maintained
Vitality maintained
through rhythmic alternation
through balanced pattern
of stable and mobile
of exertion and
spatial inclinations
recuperation
Figure 5-15. Labans taxonomy of human movement.

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Notes
11. Maletic, Body Space Expression. See Chapter 2, which traces the
development of Labans concepts of dynamics.
12. Ibid., 93.
13. Laban, Principles of Dance Notation. This slender book was
published by Laban in 1956 to protect his copyright of the notation
system. It includes a section on notation of stresses of movement
that incorporates effort symbols. Strangely, the symbols shown are
not the original ones that Laban designed in the 1940s. These later
symbols have not been adopted by notators or movement analysts.
14. Maletic, Dance Dynamics, 9.
15. Laban, Motion Study, typescript E(L)53/1, 89, Laban Archive,
NRCD. This appears to have been part of the first version of the
book later published with Lawrence under the title, Effort. The
surviving manuscript includes theoretical material that is not in the
published work.
16. Maletic, Body Space Expression, 93.
17. Laban, Motion Study, E(L)53/1, 26, Laban Archive, NRCD.
18. Maletic, Dance Dynamics, 9.
19. See, Laban, Motion Study, E(L)53/1, 204, Laban Archive, NRCD.
10. Laban and Lawrence, Effort, 66.
11. Maletic, Body Space Expression, 100-101.
12. Laban, Mastery of Movement, 23.
13. Laban, Modern Educational Dance, 56.
14. Ibid.
15. Ibid., 60.
16. Ibid., 62.
17. Ibid., 64.
18. Ibid., 66.
19. Ibid., 71.
20. Ibid., 68.
21. Laban and Lawrence, Effort, 67.
22. Ibid., 66.
23. Laban, Mastery of Movement, 17.
24. Laban, Language of Movement, 30.

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25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.
38.
39.
40.
41.

42.
43.
44.
45.
46.

47.

Laban, Change in Space, E(L)6/78, 14, Laban Archive, NRCD.

Jung, Psychological Types.
Jung, Man and His Symbols, 61.
Bloom, Moving Actors, 14.
Ibid.
Ibid.
Mazur, Prophets of Yesterday, 255.
Laban, Mastery of Movement, 126.
Ibid., 127.
Ibid.
Ibid.
Ibid., 89.
Ibid., 86.
Bartenieff with Lewis, Body Movement, 63.
Laban, Language of Movement, 90.
Ibid., 91.
Laban elaborated on these moods by ranking elements within effort
configurations, giving some elements greater stress. This scheme is
outlined in Laban and Lawrence, Effort, 33-39. Another elaboration
with which Laban experimented is gradation of intensity of elements
within combinations. For further discussion, see North, Personality
Assessment, Appendix 1, Section D, and Newlove and Dalby, Laban
for All, 154-158. It is difficult to establish the extent to which these
refinements have come into general usage among movement analysts.
Laban, Sea of Time, E(L)7/67, 21, Laban Archive, NRCD.
Laban, Mastery of Movement, 85.
Bartenieff with Lewis, Body Movement, 60.
Laban, Mastery of Movement, 87.
Lamb, Framework for Labans Core Principles, 18. In this article,
Lamb emphasizes that movement is a process of variation. As he
explains, no movement can be just direct. It has to be a process of
variation beginning with more direct becoming less direct, or indirect
becoming more direct.
Bartenieff with Lewis, Body Movement, 58.

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48. Maletic, Body Space Expression, 97, 99. In the 1920s and 1930s,
Laban had already identified eight basic dynamic actions in dance
by drawing upon and elaborating French ballet terminology. The
prevalence of these basic actions in work movement was confirmed
in his industrial studies conducted in the 1940s and subsequently
published in the book, Effort, written with F.C. Lawrence.
49. Bartenieff with Lewis, Body Movement, 62.
50. Laban, Sea of Time, E(L)7/67, 29, Laban Archive, NRCD.
51. Maletic, Dance Dynamics, 50.
52. North, Personality Assessment, 261.
53. Laban, manuscripts, E(L)7/52, E(L)7/67, and E(L)17/48, Laban
Archive, NRCD.
54. The octahedral model is found in Laban manuscript, E(L)5/40. (A
version of this model also appears in North, Personality Assessment,
248-250.) The tetrahedral model is found in Laban, manuscripts,
E(L)6/3, Laban Archive, NRCD. If the tetrahedron and octahedron
are nested inside the cubic model, the placements of states and drives
for all three models will correspond, suggesting that Laban developed
these models in a coherent and consistent fashion.
55. Bartenieff with Lewis, Body Movement, 63.
56. Laban, Language of Movement, 93.
57. Maletic, Body Space Expression, 101.
58. Laban, Rhythm of Effort and Recovery, 44.
59. Ibid., 45.
60. Ibid.
61. Preston-Dunlop, Rudolf Laban, 223.
62. Laban, Rhythm of Effort and Recovery, 46.
63. Bartenieff with Lewis, Body Movement, 73.
64. Laban, Chemistry of Sentiments, E(L)5/78, Laban Archive, NRCD.
65. Laban, Language of Movement, 67.
66. Ibid., 30.
67. Laban, Motion Study, typescript E(L)53/2, 28-29, Laban Archive,
NRCD. Laban appears to have corroborated his theory of effort/space
affinities in dance by subsequent observations of industrial labor,
along with a series of wheel and screw experiments with workers.

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68.
69.
70.
71.
72.
73.

74.
75.
76.

These involved the study of arm and hand movements in which the
wheel or screw to be turned was placed in various locations: on the
ground, in the wall in front, on the ceiling, etc. Laban discovered
that in some positions, subjects found clockwise movement easier;
while in others, counter-clockwise movements prevailed. Laban used
these experiments to confirm the ease with which a definite effort
can be made in different directions in space.
Laban, Language of Movement, 31.
Laban, Motion Study, E(L)53/2, Laban Archive, NRCD.
Laban, Language of Movement, 31.
Ibid.
Ibid., 55.
Lawlor, Sacred Geometry, 25, 32. If the edge of the cube is given the
hypothetical value of 1, the diagonal line across a face can be found
by using the Pythagorean Theorem. It will have the value of the square
root of 2, or approximately 1.4. The cubic diagonal will have the
value of the square root of 3, or approximately 1.7. Laban uses these
progressively greater distances to represent progressively greater
differences between action moods situated at corners of the cube.
Laban, manuscript, E(L)6/64, Laban Archive, NRCD.
Laban, Language of Movement, 56.
Ibid., 67.

CHAPTER 6

On Harmony
Analysis, Synthesis, and the Essence of Movement
The preceding chapters introduced various elements of Labans taxonomy
of human movement. These elements are organized under two broad yet distinct
categorical headings: Choreutics and Eukinetics. Choreutics deals with the
outer domain of kinetic activity: charting the movement from place to place in
kinesphere of visible space. Eukinetics deals with the inner world of thought
and feeling: tracing shifting moods in the dynamosphere, as these become
visible in the realm of movement dynamics. Although Laban sets out these
distinctive domains in his taxonomy, he insists that the differentiation of
kinespheric and dynamospheric movement elements is an artificial separation,
noting that to separate bodily actions (meaning anatomical and physiological
functions) from the spatial activity (meaning that which creates the shapes and
lines in space) is in reality as impossible as to separate the mental and emotional
parts of movements from the space-time forms in which they become visible.1
This is a somewhat surprising comment from a man whose work has become
practically synonymous with analysis. Yet Laban never advocated analysis as
the sole path for understanding movement. Admittedly, a coherent trace-form
can be broken down into a sequence of positions in space, and a well-phrased
action can be divided into a series of effort states and drives. The spatial and
dynamic elements of Labans taxonomy allow for such analysis, offering various
photographic angles of approach that can provide insight into movement
events. But as Henri Bergson points out, these are only snapshots which our
understanding has taken of the continuity of movement. Granted that in these
juxtaposed views one has a substitute for time and movement, but time and
movement are something else.2 Laban agrees, observing that the sum of such
snapshots is, however, not the flux itself.3 For Bergson, the philosopher, and
Laban, the movement theorist, the essential nature of movement lies in its
fluctuating continuity. The essence of such continuity is, of course, indivisibility.
While Labans taxonomy is useful for analytical purposes, the breaking up
of movement into component parts disrupts its essential continuity and
coherence. The marvelous cohesion of form and energy is so commonplace as

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to be taken for granted. Consider a mundane action, such as lifting a cup of

coffee to ones lips. Most people can easily hold the cup level while angling it
upwards with the appropriate amount of force so as to reach the mouth without
overshooting the target, slamming the cup into ones teeth, or moving so swiftly
that the coffee sloshes over the brim. In contrast, consider what would be
involved in programming a robotic arm to perform this same action for a
disabled person. Some means of grasping or supporting the cup would need to
be designed. The mechanical hand would have to grip the cup without crushing
it while holding it level. Distance, speed, force, and angle of ascent would
have to be painstakingly calculated. All these variables would need to be taken
into account and then coordinated in some way so that the action could unfold
in the proper sequence. The arm would have to stop at the right place, then tip
the cup so that just enough coffee is poured into the waiting mouth. The degree
of tipping would have to increase as the coffee is consumed. How would the
robot know when the coffee cup is empty?
One need only consider what is involved in mechanically replicating a
seemingly simple everyday action to recognize that human movement is a
wonderfully complex synthesis of perceptual and motor functions. A daunting
number of variables come into play in even quotidian actions. But calculating
variables alone will not reproduce a movement. The various parts must be
coordinated and brought into agreement to produce a coherent movement.
Human beings are able to do this naturally while robotics engineers are still
puzzling over how such fluid and seemingly spontaneous cohesion can be
replicated.
Laban saw that movement was a synthesis of mans infinite faculties;
the coming together of thought and feeling to produce the express and
admirable actions of which Shakespeare sings.4 Fully realizing that analysis,
though undeniably useful for mechanical purposes, destroys the marvelous
synthesis that is the very essence of movement experience, Laban looked beyond
the delineation of component elements for underlying principles that could
describe, at least to some extent, the miraculous bonding of body, effort, and
space. Harmony is the broad conceptual framework that Laban developed to
address how the inner and outer domains are integrated in the seamless unfolding
of voluntary human movement.
Harmony as an Analogic Metaphor
It is important to recognize that Laban is not employing the term harmony

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in the common sense of something that is euphonious, attractive, or pleasing.

His concept of harmony is more formal and abstract. So he writes: Between
the harmonic components of music and those of dance, there is not only an
outward resemblance, but a structural congruity, which although hidden at first,
can be investigated and verified, point by point.5 Labans observation that
there is a structural congruity between harmonic relations in music as well
as in dance suggests that he is employing harmony as an analogic metaphor.
An analogic metaphor combines analogic modeling with the imaginative
functions of metaphoric thinking. Metaphor connects two ideas. It has the power
to bring separate domains into cognitive and emotional relation, enabling us
to see a new subject matter in a new way.6 This imaginative extension is
combined with analogue modeling, which has the abstract aim of reproducing
the structure of the original.7 An analogic metaphor is a controlled comparison
in which the analogue model (in this case, dance) shares with the original (in
this case, music harmony) the same structure and pattern of relationships.
Analogic metaphors play an important role in the development of theory.
Through a process of analytic induction, analogic metaphors may be elaborated
so that every incidence of a relation in the original must be echoed by a
corresponding incidence of a correlated relation in the analogue model.8 Thus
if music is governed by ratio, so must dance be. If music has an inherent
underlying order, so must dance. The essence of this procedure, according to
Randall Collins, is to explain a phenomenon not by looking at it in isolation
but by comparison and contrast to other things.9
Through elaboration of the analogic metaphor of harmony, Laban developed
a beautifully coherent description of how the different elements of movement
are brought into agreement. This work rests upon the structure of relations
inherent in the taxonomy of space and effort and complements the analytic
with a more synthetic perspective. Anyone who has studied Labans work in a
practical way will have some familiarity with his notions of harmony, as will
anyone who has read Labans published writings. What is attempted here,
however, is a more comprehensive and systematic elaboration of the construct
of movement harmony. It begins with an examination of elements of movement
harmony.
Laban never defined harmonic movement in a direct or succinct statement,
but he alludes to harmony, and harmonious movement in a number of
published and unpublished writings. From these various comments, the
following elements of movement harmony may be delineated: (1) ratio and

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proportion, (2) balance, (3) symmetry, (4) unity of form, (5) interrelationship
of elements, and (6) individuality. Each of these elements is distinct, yet all are
interrelated. In this sense, Laban appears to build up a picture of the fundaments
of harmony by gradual accretion. Consequently, each element is discussed
individually first. Then, following an interlude examination of implicit aspects
of Labans use of geometrical models, a working definition of movement
harmony is presented.
Ratio and Proportion
The harmonic relations underlying Western music are based upon simple
ratios that can be expressed numerically. The most fundamental ratio is that of
1: 2, which establishes the octave, a primary division of pitch space. If a single
string is plucked, it will vibrate at a set frequency. If the string is held down in
the middle (that is, divided into two equal parts), each half will vibrate twice
as fast as the whole string did. The note sounded by the whole string and the
note sounded by the string divided in half, will be the same. But the note
sounded by the divided string will be an octave higher than the note of the
whole string.
Other types of relationships in tones will develop when the string is divided
in other ways: at one third its length, one fourth its length, and so on. The
discovery of the proportional relationships between number and tone is
attributed to the Greek philosopher and mathematician, Pythagoras, who used
this knowledge to arrange tones in a sequence or scale.10 This sequence of
tones provides the organizational scaffolding that brings order to music,
separating musical tones from unmusical sounds of irregular and indefinite
pitch.11 As Livio observes, Every string quartet and symphony orchestra today
still uses Pythagorass discovery of whole-number relationships among different
musical tones.12
Laban notes that relations of vibrations expressed in primary numbers
give our senses an impression of balance which we call harmony.13 Since
musical and color harmonies are based upon numerical ratios, he goes on to
point out the possibility of discovering similar relations in the trace-forms of
movement.14 The analogy that Laban draws is as follows. Music organizes
sound by cutting up pitch space into rational units. Not only are the bottom and
top notes of the octave related to one another in the ratio of 1:2, the pitch space
of the octave is evenly divided into the twelve tempered semitones (these are
represented, for example, by the twelve white and black piano keys that make

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up the octave between middle C and high C). Dance organizes movement space
in a similar way. A rational basis for this organization is inherent in Labans
use of the icosahedron, whose twelve corners are equidistantly distributed
around the kinesphere, cutting up movement space in a regular way just as the
twelve semitones divide the pitch space of the octave into equal intervals. As
Laban explains, these twelve signal points of the kinesphere not only make
a division of space possible, but also are in themselves units of harmonic
interrelationships.15
Laban also uses edges and internal rays of the icosahedron to map lines of
motion. Angles between these peripheral and transverse lines of motion,
expressed as degrees of a circle, show a number of correspondences with the
range of motion of various joints of the body, also expressed as degrees of a
circle. Many correspondences based on single joint actions are delineated in
The Language of Movement. This leads Laban to affirm that the
correspondence between the angles of the icosahedron and the maximum angles
through which the limbs move is quite astonishing. They apprear to be either
the same, or exactly half, or double, of those mentioned.16
Laban presents this as evidence to support his assertion that numerical
ratios similar to those found in music may be discovered in the trace-forms of
movements. His argument was sufficient to convince the French mathematician
Matila Ghyka. He notes, Laban observes that all the bodily movements of the
dancer (in three dimensions), as well as the different directions of the dancers
space, correspond to the angles of the rays of the icosahedron.17 However,
two difficulties arise with the correspondences that Laban identifies. First,
anatomical references differ regarding the normal range of motion for various
joints.18 Moreover, motion of a single limb often involves several aspects of
joint function, combining flexion or extension, adduction or abduction, and
rotation. An action of the whole body becomes even more complex.
Laban was well-aware of the complications. To touch a point on the floor
behind ourselves, he writes, we must employ a number of interrelated
movements.19 These include flexion of the knees, rotation of the pelvis,
extension of the lumbar spine, abduction and rotation of the arm, and so on.
While Laban admits that interrelated movements are complex, he also insists
that between the angles of the component moves there is a precise relationship
which is determined by a law the law of harmony in movement. If we disobey
this law, we shall then succeed in reaching the desired point only by means of
incredible distortions and with the greatest difficulty.20 In other words, if the

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spine is overextended or the arm insufficiently rotated, the attempt to reach the
floor will appear clumsy to the observer and feel awkward for the mover.
By considering the angles of component moves, Laban introduces a more
dynamic view into the analogy of musical and movement ratios. The unfolding
of a musical melody in time is based upon underlying tonal relationships that
are proportional. Similarly, the unfolding of a movement trace-form in space
is based upon proportional ratios of coordinated joint actions. Consequently,
the particularistic correspondences of single joint actions and angles of the
icosahedron are less significant than Labans more fundamental observation:
the proportions of the parts of the human body along with the anatomical
structure of its joints determine the pathways that can be traced in the kinesphere.
There is, according to Laban, a harmonic relationship between bodily form
and movement function that can be described numerically and geometrically.
Numerical Relationships. This connection between number, form, and
movement is seldom addressed explicitly in dance and movement training.
Labans observation becomes more tenable, however, when his background in
visual art is considered, for he translated academic training in anatomy, figure
drawing, and rendering in perspective to his study of dance. As noted in Chapter
3, painters who wish to depict the human form in action are obliged to
understand fundamental proportional relationships of the parts of the body
and how these proportions are visibly altered when the body is represented in
different poses. Over the centuries, artists have employed numerical and
geometrical schemes to assist in the realistic representation of the human form
in motion. For example, an anthropometric canon of human proportion has
existed from Classical times. This canon, which delineates average body
proportions, is based upon actual measurements of body parts. Relations
between the measures of parts can be expressed in two ways: as whole number
ratios (fractions based upon whole numbers) or as irrational numbers (numbers
that have no precise value and are never-repeating and never-ending). In the
first case, a standard of measurement is set, such as the length of the face from
hairline to chin. Using this standard, the rest of the body can be proportionally
related. For example, the shoulder girdle is two face-lengths wide; the hand
and the foot are one face-length; the upper arm is 1 face lengths, the upper
leg is two face lengths, and so on. Labans figure drawings, analyzed in Chapter
3, demonstrate his familiarity with fractional schemes for dealing with bodily
proportions.

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Irrational numbers can also be used to represent human proportion. As

Schneider writes, the ancient Greeks discovered, or more likely learned from
the Egyptians, that the human body is ideally structured in part and whole
according to the golden mean.21 The Golden Mean has a numerical value of
1.6180339887. . . . (or the square root of five, plus one, divided by two), but
Robert Lawlor suggests, it is best thought of as a two term proportional division
in which the smaller term is to the larger term in the same way that the larger
term is to the smaller plus the larger. It is written as a:b :: b: (a + b).22 Any line
can be divided in such a way that the shorter segment is to the longer segment
as the longer segment is to the whole line. This point of division marks the
Golden Mean (see Figure 6-1).

1 : : : : (1 + )
= 1.618
Figure 6-1. Golden Mean division of a line.
In the twentieth century, the Golden Mean has come to be represented by
the Greek letter phi () after the Greek artist, Phidias, whose exquisitely lifelike
sculptures are rich with golden proportions, as is the human body. Phi is a
proportion found in natural growth, Schneider explains.23 Because of this
relationship to patterns of growth, Doczi views phi as a proportional limit
shared by all parts of the human body, thus the length of the hand to arm to
trunk are shared.24 Schneider is more specific: When the length of each
finger joint is multiplied by 1.618 the length of the next larger section is
indicated.25 Laban was familiar with the ubiquity of phi in the human figure:
The Golden Section is also considered to be the ruling proportion
between all the different parts of the perfectly built human body and
throughout the ages its mathematical law has been closely connected
with aesthetics. This [the Golden Section] shows an infinite series of
redivisions in which each small part has the same relation to the larger
part as the larger part has to the whole.26
Geometrical Relationships. While proportions based upon rational and
irrational numbers have proved useful to artists in the realistic depiction of the
human body, geometrical devices have aided in rendering the active body in

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perspective. The Renaissance artist Albrecht Drer, who noted that no one
can be or become an absolute artist without geometry,27 was among the first to
exploit the use of solid forms to solve problems of foreshortening. As described
in Chapter 3, Drer superimposed geometrical forms on the organic curves of
the body. These simpler geometrical forms could then be tilted, rotated, and
redrawn in proper perspective, for by shifting these around in space any number
of poses could be produced in what may be called a synthetic fashion.28 This
technique allowed Drer to solve problems of foreshortening systematically,
after which he could convert the geometrized pose back into a biomorphic
human figure.
Panofsky refers to Drers approach as producing crystallized poses in
which the very principle of transition is left out.29 Admittedly, Drers use of
geometry serves the analysis of joint action in stillness rather than in motion.
Nevertheless, Laban seems to have appropriated aspects of Drers approach
in his own exploration of the relationship of anatomical structure and traceforms. As discussed in Chapter 3, Laban projects the geometrical form around
the human body, superimposing it on the kinesphere rather than on the human
figure itself. These superimpositions sometimes relate to poses, as shown in
Figure 6-2, where Laban appears to use a geometrical figure to indicate
proportional relationships among body parts.

Figure 6-2. Trace-form in

dodecahedron in relation to
bony landmarks of the
human figure.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/5/128. NRCD.

In other instances, the geometrical form is used to depict a trace-form as it

progresses through the space around the body. A drawing of this type is shown

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in Plate K. Whereas real movement shapes vanish even as they are being traced,
these types of drawings preserve the angles and configurations of lines that
make up a trace-form. In many other cases, Laban dispenses with the human
figure altogether and simply renders the trace-form geometrically. An example
of this can be seen in Figure 6-3.

Figure 6-3.
Trace-form without figure.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/C/2/119 NRCD.

It can be seen, then, that traditional art practices have relied upon numerical
and geometrical means of various sorts to aid the realistic depiction of human
beings in action. Surviving drawings by Laban demonstrate his grasp of these
artistic techniques, as well as their application to the study of movement traceforms. Certainly he had the means to conceive a law of harmony that determines
a precise relationship between the angles of component moves. Moreover, it is
congruent with both art and music theories that these relationships should also
be viewed in numerical terms. In this sense, ratio is a core element in Labans
theory of movement harmony.
Balance
If one wishes to study movement harmony, Laban remarks,
it will not be enough to describe movement in the ordinary mechanical
way. One can say that a person has a wonderful gait, and then go into
detail and speak about the poise of the movement, the erect carriage of
the spine and head and of other attributes connected with a pleasant
and free form of walking; one can speak about the rhythm of the steps
and of many other things but none of these remarks will penetrate the
core of the idea of harmony in movement.
There is more behind it, and here we must introduce the idea of
balance in order to get a bit nearer to the recognition of harmony.30

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This statement indicates the central role that balance plays in Labans
thinking about harmony. Balance, of course, is a significant aspect of somatic
experience, from the cellular level to the psychological realm. Health, both
mental and physical, is said to depend upon balance. All kinds of forces threaten
psychophysical equilibrium, from germs to unhappy love affairs. As Laban
notes, the human body has to withstand a variety of disequilibrating
influences,31 not only those that arise in the outside environment, but also
those that come from within. Consequently, balance in movement has both
dynamospheric and kinespheric aspects. It is a dynamic process, not a steady
state and certainly not a poised stillness. At its most fundamental level, balance
for Laban is an oscillation between opposites; it is never complete stability or
a standstill, but the result of two contrasting qualities of mobility.32 The
fundamental pattern of oscillation in the dynamosphere is the rhythmic shift
between exertion and recuperation, while, in the kinesphere, stability and
mobility endlessly alternate.33
The concept of movement balance as an oscillation seems to follow
naturally from the way in which Laban has constructed his taxonomy. The
four effort elements are conceived as sets of bipolar qualities: free and bound
flow, light and strong weight, sustained and sudden time, and flexible and direct
spatial focus. Similarly, the kinesphere is organized in terms of axial tensions
in opposing directions: in dimensions such as up and down, planar diameters
such as right side high and left side low, and diagonals such as right forward
high and left back low.
Although Laban organized his taxomony around bipolar qualities and
divergent spatial directions, these bipolar elements are not dichotomous or
mutually exclusive. In order for the taxonomy to represent movement as a
continuous process of change, effort qualities and spatial directions must be
conceived as a continuum. In any movement, there will necessarily be variations
in direction and dynamic quality. For example, if a condition of bound flow
persists or becomes extreme, the movement will rigidify and a pause will occur.
Similarly, extreme free flow will dissipate eventually into an uncontrolled flop
from which no transition is possible; a momentary standstill will ensue. Similar
limits exist in the kinesphere. One cannot continue to reach upwards indefinitely.
Physical limitations of the limbs will bring the movement to a stop, until a
fresh impulse leads to some kind of change.
It has been said that music is what happens between the notes, and a similar
observation could be made about movement it is what happens between

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intensely persistent moods and infinite directions. In both music and dance,
Laban writes, there are oscillations in time and space. In both cases the
disturbance of the equilibrium and the re-establishing of quietude is on the
basis of the oscillatory phenomenon.34 If movement is to maintain its dynamic
fluidity and continuity, there must be variation in how and where it unfolds. If
the continuity of transition is to be harmonic, there must be a balance over
time in the moods and shapes of change.
Symmetry
Symmetry is an aspect of movement harmony that is very closely connected
to the concept of balance. In The Language of Movement, Laban gives a simple
example of this connection: When one side of the body tends to go into one
direction, the other side will almost automatically tend towards the contrary
direction. Such spontaneous movements of opposition serve to maintain
postural balance. This leads Laban to observe that the wish to establish
equilibrium through symmetric movements is the simplest manifestation of
what we call harmony.35
Laban is by no means the first person to link equilibrium, symmetry, and
harmony. For instance, graphic designers Albarn, Smith, Steele, and Walker
make the following observation: Concerned as it is with balance, symmetry is
perhaps the first conceptual device we employ to order experience.36 Hans
Giger writes that the aim of mathematics is to create order where previously
chaos seemed to reign, or in one word, to establish symmetry.37 As the structural
chemists Istvan and Magdolna Hargittai explain, beyond geometrical
definitions, there is another, broader meaning to symmetryone that relates
to harmony and proportion, and ultimately to beauty.38 As these various
quotations illustrate, definitions of symmetry seem to fall into two broad
categories:
On the one hand, they are described in such terms as the right
proportion of parts and the beauty resulting from this, which one
might call the aesthetic interpretation; then there are those more precise,
or scientific, explanations whereby a symmetrical object is one that
presents two or more identical parts that are systematically arranged.39
The latter definition of symmetry draws upon two concepts: congruence
and periodicity. Congruence implies a relationship between figures such that
for every point on one there is a corresponding point on the other; that is, the

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shapes are identical.40 Periodicity has to do with the repetitive occurrence of

exactly the same motif.41 The production of such identical and repetitive
patterns rests upon symmetry operations, such as reflection (mirroring across
a line), rotation (turning the figure around a fixed point), translation (sliding
the figure a set distance), and so on. Senechal and Fleck acknowledge that a
symmetry operation is a motion and therefore effects a change in the position
of most parts of the pattern One can thus classify patterns by the kind of
symmetry operations that leave them invariant, and in this way discover form.42
Symmetry, then, implies both balance and motion. It reveals the laws
governing the creation of forms in our particular type of two- and threedimensional space. Moreover, symmetry is transformative, for through
symmetry operations, contrasting elements in a design may be ordered,
balanced, harmonized, and given cohesion as a whole. In this sense, the various
symmetry operations play a significant role in dance technique and
choreography.
Reflection. For example, reflective symmetry is mirroring across a line, as
shown with the simple pattern in Figure 6-4. The human body has bilateral
reflective symmetry; so that the right and left sides of the body are more or less
identical. Hargittai and Hargittai point out that bilateral symmetry is closely
related to motion, for crawling, walking, running, and swimming all progress
through alternating actions of the right and left sides of the body.43 Bilateral
reflection is, of course, an operation that all dancers are familiar with, for in a
technique class, movement sequences are performed first to the right and then
to the left. Moreover, choreographers often exploit reflective symmetry, in
poses, in the placing of groups of dancers on the stage, and in group movement
patterns.

Figure 6-4. Reflective symmetry.

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Rotation. Rotational symmetry involves moving a form around an axis.

During a complete revolution, the motif will be repeated two or more times, as
shown in Figure 6-5. Pinwheels, hubcaps, and flowers have rotational symmetry.
Circular dance forms also employ rotation. Rotational patterns are particularly
effective when viewed from above. Hollywood choreographer Busby Berkeley
exploited rotational symmetry (indeed, all symmetry operations) with unique
camera angles in the large group pieces he created for film in the 1920s and
1930s. Longstaff identifies additional rotational symmetry in the familiar en
croix sequences in ballet, in which a leg extension is executed towards the
front of the body, then to the side, and finally extended towards the back.
Moreover, any kinespheric form can be rotated in relation to the room simply
by changing the dancers facing and having him/her repeat the movement
sequence.44

Figure 6-5. Rotational symmetry.

Translation. Translation involves sliding a form a set distance and then
repeating it, as shown in Figure 6-6. According to Hargittai and Hargittai, we
may see translational symmetry everywhere: border decorations, parking meters,
gutters, water fountains, lamps, columns, trees, soldiers, etc.45 Translation in
dance can appear in several ways. The chorus line and the processional march
embody translation symmetry. Movement sequences can also be moved from
one area of the kinesphere to another and then repeated. For example, Longstaff
notes that translation occurs in ballet technique when a leg movement might
be executed low with the toe touching the floor (e.g. Ronde de jambe terre)
or translated higher with the entire leg in the air (e.g. Ronde de jambe en
lair).46

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Figure 6-6. Translation symmetry.

Glide Reflection. Another type of symmetry operation known as glide
reflection combines translation and reflection so that a figure is moved through
space and then reversed, as shown in Figure 6-7. In movement terms, a line of
dancers in which every other person faces backwards would be an example of
the use of glide reflection. This symmetry operation is also employed when
two lines of dancers executing the same movements cross from opposite sides
of the stage.

Figure 6-7. Glide reflection pattern combining translation and reflection.

Retrograde Motion. Retrograde incorporates a temporal element, in that a
sequence of actions are performed first in one order and then in reverse order.
Retrograde motion is fundamental to musical practice, as scales are always
played both in ascending and descending order. In dance terms, transferring a
wavelike action along a line of dancers, and then back again is an example
of the use of retrograde motion. Longstaff observes, when a sequential spatial
form (pathway) is learned from beginning-to-end, it might then be recalled
from end-to-beginning. The order in which the path was learned might be termed
the original order and the retracing of ones motions in reverse can be referred
to as retrograde.47
Labans Use of Symmetry. Laban noted that our intellect distinguishes
between three forms of symmetry in space: up and down, left and right, forward
and backward, but when the body follows trace-forms it appreciates only leftright symmetry.48 With regard to bilateral symmetry, Laban goes on to observe
that when someone follows a trace-form with the right arm and is asked to
repeat the movement with the left, he or she will transpose the form to different

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zones of the kinesphere, replicating the shape as a mirrored reflection of the

shape traced by the right arm. This curious fact leads Laban to conclude that
man understands his mirror-like symmetrical movements of the left and right
sides to be identical, although their inclinations are completely different.49
Perhaps as a consequence of this observation, Laban utilized multiple
symmetry operations in the rhythmic circles that he designed, extending
patterns of reflection, so that movements are mirrored up and down and forward
and backward in addition to left and right. He also employs retrograde motion,
so that the second half of a spatial sequence is not only a reflection of the first
half, but is performed in the reverse direction.50 Labans rhythmic circles are
quite literally harmonic movements. As defined in physics, harmonic
movement is any vibratory pattern that is symmetrical about a mid-point. As
noted in Chapter 4, the mid-point that Laban uses is the center of the kinesphere,
which coincides proportionally with the navel center of the dancers body. The
reflective symmetries embodied in the spatial patterns that Laban prescribes
oscillate around this mid-point. The harmony arises from the symmetry of
the spatial form. Moreover, these rhythmic circles facilitate a balanced use of
the kinesphere, for pathways visit all areas of the space around the body.
Oscillating movement through three-dimensional space also stimulates the
vestibular canals of the inner ear, which play a role in the physiology of
maintaining balance. While Laban observes that the wish to establish
equilibrium through symmetric movements is the simplest manifestation of
what we call harmony, he goes on to comment that the aim of this is not
merely to hold the body in an upright position, but to achieve a unity of form,
a wholeness, a completeness.51 This extends the meaning of symmetry into
the realm of aesthetics, inviting consideration from another perspective.
Unity of Form
By linking symmetry to unity of form, Laban refers to classical ideals in
the visual arts in which symmetry is correlated with proportion and eurhythmy.
The linking of these design elements can be found in the writings of the Roman
architect, Vitruvius: Symmetry results from proportion, proportion is the
commensuration of the various constituent parts with the whole.52 Elaborating
on the use of symmetry in architectural design, Vitruvius writes, when every
important part of the building is thus conveniently set in proportion by the
right correlation between height and width, between width and depth, and when
all these parts have also their place in the total symmetry of the building, we

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obtain eurhythmy.53 Eurhythmy is defined in a contemporary dictionary as

harmonious structure. Ghyka, however, points out an affinity between
symmetry and rhythm based upon an older definition of rhythm: Rhythm is in
time what symmetry is in space. 54 A harmonious structure, one that achieves
a unity of form, will employ rhythm as well as symmetry to bring about a
proportional consonance between various elements, and between each element
and the whole.
The Role of Rhythm in Space-Time Designs. Symmetry underlies all kinds
of visual patterns, and its connection to architectural and choreographic design
is direct. While rhythm is a significant design feature in dance, its link to
architecture is less obvious. Yet, according to architectural theorist Eugene
Raskin, rhythm has a lot to do with the emotional response that a building
evokes. This is because the human mind can readily translate a pattern that is
perceived visually into a rhythm that is felt as though it were being heard.
Moreover,
there is a time factor involved in the visual perception of a pattern.
First there is the distance between the elements of the pattern, closely
spaced elements being scanned more rapidly than widely spaced ones;
secondly there is the matter of interest. The eye passes over forms of
minor interest quickly, but is arrested or slowed by those which engage
its attention. Thus the time gaps which establish the tempo of a visual
rhythm in architecture are determined in actual execution by distances,
measured in feet and inches, and interest, estimated by examination of
the workings of the human mind. The point to be remembered is that
the time aspects of emotional reactions caused by rhythms seen and
rhythms heard are entirely valid.55
When considered in this way, architecture and dance have much in common.
Both are three-dimensional, or more accurately, four-dimensional, for their
designs create patterns, not only in space but also in time. For this reason,
Raskin suggests that architects can benefit from the study of music and dance,
these being the art forms in which rhythm is most closely tied to expression.56
Interestingly, Laban reversed Raskins advice, for he studied architecture before
turning his hand to dance. Indeed, these early architectural studies appear to
have influenced Labans ideas about dance. He drew metaphoric parallels
between architecture and movement as well as more literal connections. For
example, Laban referred to movement as living architecture made up of

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pathways tracing shapes in space. Just as the parts of a building must be

proportionally balanced to remain standing in the midst of continual
vibrations, so must body of the dancer.57 The same difficulties that architects
face when attempting to cantilever a mass in space obtain in dance. The body
is in a stable balance when the centre of gravity is placed in a vertical line with
the point of support, Laban writes, and when the centre of gravity is apt to
change its normal vertical relation to the point of support, a loss of balance
will occur.58
Empathy and the Meaning of Form. In addition to sharing concerns with
structural balance and cohesion, both architecture and dance are aesthetic forms
that convey mood and meaning. As noted in Chapter 3, Labans concepts of
the unity of form in dance appear to have been influenced by the aesthetic
theory of empathy, popular in artistic circles in the fin de sicle period.
According to this theory, forms arouse feelings through the viewers projections
of self into the object. Raskins comments on rhythm in architecture presuppose
this type of empathic projection and draw upon the earlier theoretical work of
the aesthetician Wlfflin, who argued that kinesthetic experience underlies the
expressive qualities of architectural forms because as human beings with a
body that teaches us the nature of gravity, contraction, strength, and so on, we
gather the experience that enables us to identify with the conditions of other
forms.59
In Wlfflins view, the elements of architecture material and form, gravity
and force can convey a feeling because we are able to project our own physical
experiences into these elements. This is the same point Raskin makes with
regard to architectural rhythm: The most immediate reaction to rhythm is to
fall in with it.You become part of it in a process which is not so much imitative
as absorptive. The mood of the rhythm then becomes your mood.60
The views of Raskin and Wlfflin correspond with those of the Jugendstil
architect August Endell. As discussed in Chapter 3, Endell spelled out the
empathic reactions aroused by various kinds of lines, correlating straight and
curved lines, narrow and wide lines, short and long lines and the direction of
the line with various kinetic sensations.61 Since visceral/kinesthetic associations
with visual forms convey all the nuances of feeling experienced in
movement,62 Endell argued that formal qualities of line and shape arouse
emotion and are expressive, in and of themselves, without being representational
or symbolic. Consequently, the theory of empathy laid the theoretical foundation
for the evolution of abstract Expressionism, influencing Wassily Kandinsky

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and other artists in the Munich circles in which Laban moved.

Laban appears to have applied the theory of empathy, not to painting or
architecture, but to dance. As in architecture, unity of form in dance depends
upon the coherence of both rhythmic and spatial elements. The theory of
empathy proposes that abstract, formal qualities of lines and shapes have
inherent dynamic qualities. Laban looked for these intrinsic relationships in
his examination of the affinities of spatial form and effort qualities.
Interrelationship of Elements
It will be recalled that Vitruvius delineated two types of relationships that
obtain in achieving a unity of form: the relationship of elements to one another
and the relationship of all these various elements to the whole. Laban applies
this concept in his formulation of movement harmony, examining relationships
within the choreutic and eukinetic domains, as well as relationships between
these two domains.
From Place to Place. Relationships of elements in the choreutic domain
have to do with orderly progressions through space. If a movement sequence
were to be filmed, then cut apart and randomly spliced back together, a dreamlike movement would result, full of unexpected jumps, breaks, gaps, overlaps
and repetitions.63 A movement makes sense, as Laban explains, only if it
progresses organically, and this means that phases must follow each other in
a natural succession.64 This natural and orderly spatial progression depends
upon the mechanics of the human body and the physics of motion in space.
Joints bend in some directions and not in others; moreover, they bend, stretch,
and twist only so far and no farther. This fact has been exploited in certain
martial arts like Aikido, wherein grasping, twisting, and leading an opponents
limb in a certain direction will take him or her to the floor with very little
application of force, for if the opponent resists, the joint will give way. Most
people would rather fall than have their sinews torn asunder!
On the other hand, the human neuromuscular and proprioceptive systems
are designed to prevent unexpected falls. These physiological mechanisms
insure that we always know in our bones where the vertical plumb line of
gravity is and where we are in relationship to it. If we veer too far off-vertical,
reflexive compensatory actions are taken automatically. Such actions do not
bring us back to the vertical right away, however, for other intermediary
directions in space may intervene before equilibrium can be re-established.
Since nearly all movement through space requires some departure from a

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vertically-balanced stance, Laban investigated how one nearly falls without

actually falling. He found that two operations were involved in controlling
mobility in space: countertension and a rhythmic cycling from plane to plane.
Laban identified two types of countertension: the symmetrical and the
chordic. In the symmetrical type, as discussed earlier, one side of the body
goes in one direction and the other side almost automatically tends towards the
opposite direction. In a chordic countertension, on the other hand, several
different directions are used to counter the primary inclination of the movement.
For example, in a ballet arabesque, one arm may reach upward while the other
extends to the side to offset the primary backward extension of the leg.
Rhythmic cycling from plane to plane has to do with compensatory actions
to prevent a fall. All movement in three-dimensional space involves a brief
loss of balance followed by a momentary regaining of equilibrium. Laban
discerned a pattern in how equilibrium is regained. Consider, for example, a
tilted suspension in the vertical plane. If the dancer leans too far to the side, he
or she will begin to fall. A compensatory movement, stepping either forward
or backward, can prevent the fall by introducing depth, or the spatial tension
that is missing in the two-dimensional vertical plane. Similarly, a tight rope
walker advancing or retreating along the high wire will use sideward arm
movements for balance. This introduces width, the spatial tension that is
missing in the sagittal plane. Thus the patterned oscillation between stability
and mobility in three-dimensional space involves compensatory shifts from
plane to plane, and there is a logical order underlying these movements.
From Mood to Mood. Orderly progression may also be detected in the
movement from mood to mood. This is where Laban invokes the law of
proximity his model of degrees of relationship between effort moods, based
upon the similarity or dissimilarity of their component effort qualities. Labans
attempt to deal with these systematically is based upon his view that harmony
exists between things which have a certain relation or kinship to one another.
Things which are not at all akin to one another are opposites which can only
become harmonized by intermediary steps leading from one of the opposites
to the other.65
Labans observations here parallel the concept of modulation, or the process
of changing key, in musical composition. Changes of key are based upon kinship
of tones and governed by certain laws of harmony.66 Laban suggests that a
similar principles of orderly progression exist between movement moods so
that a bodily feeling for harmonious movement does not permit immediate

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transition between distant action-moods in the dynamosphere. 67

Linking Mood and Place. Various types of orderly progressions harmonize
the unfolding of movement in the kinesphere and dynamosphere. These
progressions serve to relate elements within each domain. How, though, are
these different domains to be brought together?
First, Laban reiterated again and again that movement is a coherent act in
which the inner impulse to move takes shape in space. In an unpublished
manuscript titled Kinetic Harmony Laban writes:
Inclination is the key word of kinetic harmony. The word inclination
is used in the study and practice of movement in both meanings given
to it in everyday language. Not only is there an inner inclination to
colour stillness and stir in various combinations and grades of intensity
[effort], but external movement is always characterised by changes of
direction which are inclined in definite angles to one another in space.68
In another unpublished manuscript, Laban avers that movement is the
macroscopic projection of neuromuscular functions. The working hypothesis
adopted here is that the curves, shapes, and sequences, which are seen in outer
movement are somehow the exact replica of change of currents and tensions
happening within the neuromuscular apparatus.69 This sense that the inner
impulse to move is connected with the visible form that the action takes leads
Laban to comment that the spectator will at first be surprised , perhaps, at the
harmony existing between the various parts of the shape of trace-forms and
the dynamic sequences which express the state of mind and the meaning of the
whole movement.70
Laban goes on to spell out this harmony in terms of affinities between
certain effort moods and directions in space. He published two models of the
correlations between effort and spatial direction; both are discussed in Chapter
5. While Laban admits that every shape can be traced into space with an
almost infinite variation of effort combinations, he insists that there is
nevertheless a fundamental correlation between efforts and shapes.71
The theory of empathy, which was quite influential in early 20th century
art, perhaps inclined Laban to see dynamic quality as inherent in movement
lines and trace-forms. However, he claimed that correlations were based upon
empirical observation of both expressive dance movements and functional work
actions. His findings have been accepted as a workable model of consonant
and dissonant relationships of effort and shape, notably in the psychological

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studies of Warren Lamb and Judith Kestenberg, where Labans model has been
linked to nonverbal cues influencing interaction patterns.72 Labans own
theoretical explorations of effort/space affinities extend beyond his published
models and are discussed in Chapter 9.
Individuality
To finish the discussion of the elements of movement harmony, it should
be noted that although Laban spells out interrelationships within and across
the choreutic and eukinetic domains, he does not prescribe particular movements
as inherently harmonious. Rather, he notes that there are considerations such
as individual expressiveness or taste which can influence the personal
conception of harmony in movement. Graceful movements will suit one person
more than vital or bizarre movement, or the contrary may be the case.73
A precondition for individual expression, however, is a rich range of
movement. A healthy human being can have complete control of his kinesphere
and dynamosphere, Laban opines. The essential thing is that we should neither
have preference for nor avoid certain movements because of physical or
psychical restrictions.74 This comment suggests that physical or psychological
impairments will impact an individuals range of motion; and this imbalance
will in turn have an effect of the overall cohesion of movement expression.
While a unity of form may be realized in a variety of movement styles,
harmonious expression in any style depends upon a fundamentally intact range
of motion.
Hidden Harmonies: An Interlude
Beyond the harmonic elements already discussed, there is an additional
aspect of Labans theory-building to be considered his use of geometrical
models. As demonstrated in earlier chapters, Laban depended heavily on
geometric schemes to develop his notation system, as well as to conceptualize
prototypic spatial sequences, effort patterns, and effort-space affinities. The
extensive use of three-dimensional polyhedral forms for modeling both the
choreutic and eukinetic domains demonstrates Labans consistent methodological approach. This consistency, however, masks differences in what the
models represent and how these models may be used in conjunction with one
another to elucidate harmonic relations between the physical and psychological
dimensions of movement.

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Dual Uses for Geometrical Models. Laban uses three-dimensional models

to represent both the kinesphere and the dynamosphere. The kinesphere is
conceived to be the outer domain of human movement in which visible physical
actions occur. Since the movers space is three-dimensional, it makes sense to
use three-dimensional models for this domain. The polyhedral models that
Laban has chosen the octahedron, cube, and icosahedron provide
geographical landmarks for the kinesphere that can be taken literally, for they
signify actual locations of movement through space.
On the other hand, Laban conceives the dynamosphere as the inner domain
of human movement. This is a virtual space in which the movement from mood
to mood occurs. These mood shifts become visible as effort qualities. Laban
also uses polyhedra as models of the dynamosphere. In these instances, the
three-dimensional positioning of effort qualities and combinations is to be taken
figuratively, for these polyhedral models indicate qualitative kinships among
effort elements, configurations, states, and drives.
Labans octahedral and cubic models of the effort-space affinities are an
exception. These models represent kinespheric directions and lines of motion,
as well as the effort qualities and configurations theorized to accompany such
trajectories. Here the association of effort with areas of space should be taken
literally.
Unfortunately, Laban does not clearly differentiate literal from figurative
uses of polyhedral models of the dynamosphere. This is an important distinction
to clarify, since these differing uses affect the interpretation of models he
developed.75
Different Models for Different Domains. Unpublished theoretical
documents and drawings dealing with Choreutics and Eukinetics reveal Labans
extensive experimentation with various three-dimensional forms as potential
models. He worked with all five Platonic solids, along with the stella octangula
(two intersecting tetrahedra also known as the Star of Kepler). He explored
some of the semi-regular polyhedra, notably the cuboctahedron, as well as
multi-dimensional forms such as the hypercube. He also worked with shapes
of interest to topologists, such as bands, lemniscates (a twisted band having
only one side), knots, and Klein bottles (a bottle with only one surface). Some
of these models were explored exclusively in relation to either Choreutics or
Eukinetics. Other forms, such as the tetrahedron, cuboctahedron, hypercube,
and lemniscate, were tested as dual models for mapping both choreutic and
eukinetic patterns.

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It would have been convenient if Laban could have found a single form
that sufficed for representing both domains. This would have served as a useful
visual symbol of the essential unity of space and energy in movement.
Experimentation with the forms listed above does not appear to have been
satisfactory, however, for the only dual-purpose models that Laban published
were the octahedron and cube as representations of effort-space affinities. Even
these were not entirely suitable. As Laban writes,
it can be noticed that effort elements, incomplete and basic as well as
complete efforts, have a strongly stabilizing or mobilizing tendency
and evolve therefore in either dimensional or diagonal directions, while
the movement shapes themselves seem to avoid as much as possible
pure dimensionals and diagonals. This avoidance results in the socalled deviated directions or inclinations of which shapes are built
up.76
In other words, Laban recognized that efforts and spatial forms were
categorically different. Consequently, these distinct domains of movement
needed to be represented by equally distinctive models. Judging from the
drawings of certain polyhedra that recur in archival materials dealing with
Eukinetics, Laban seems to have settled on three of the Platonic solids the
tetrahedron, octahedron, and cube as the most suitable forms for modeling
the dynamosphere. The other two Platonic solids the icosahedron and
dodecahedron do not appear to have been utilized for modeling Eukinetics.
On the other hand, there are scores of drawings of icosahedra and
dodecahedra in archival materials dealing with Choreutics. Labans preference
for the icosahedron as a model of the kinesphere (in contrast to the octahedron
and cube) was discussed in depth in Chapter 4. His exploration of the
dodecahedron is relatively unrecognized. Laban did not utilize this form, with
its twelve pentagonal faces and twenty corners, to develop a geography of the
kinesphere, presumably due to the complexity of the shape.77 His published
writings seldom mention this form. However, the dodecahedron is present
implicitly within the icosahedral scaffolding of the kinesphere. The intersection
of the transverse rays of the icosahedron create a dodecahedral shape inside
the icosahedron. In other words, transversals of the icosahedron are actually
edges, or peripheral inclinations, of a dodecahedron that is hidden inside the
icosahedron.78 If the icosahedron is the explicit model of the kinesphere, the
dodecahedron is the implicit form, for these polyhedra are duals.79

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Thus, while Laban engaged in a variety of model-building experiments, he

seems to have settled on the five Platonic solids as being the most suitable.
Use of these forms is differentiated, however. The tetrahedron, octahedron,
and cube are employed primarily to model formal relationships among eukinetic
elements. The icosahedron and its hidden dual, the dodecahedron, are employed
to represent the natural trajectories of human movement that are deflections of
the pure dimensions and diagonals. Labans preferred polyhedral models for
the kinesphere and dynamosphere are shown in Figure 6-8.
Kinespheric Models
Icosahedron
Dodecahedron

Dynamospheric Models
Tetrahedron
Octahedron
Cube

Figure 6-8. Labans preferred models for the choreutic and eukinetic domains.
Not One and Not Two. Laban was aware that space and effort commingle
seamlessly in voluntary movement. Nevertheless, observed distinctions between
the choreutic and eukinetic domains necessitated the development of different
three-dimensional models for the kinesphere and dynamosphere. If a single
model would not suffice to represent the psychophysical phenomenon of
movement, how could the intrinsic integration of elements be examined and
explained?
Labans choice of the five Platonic solids provided an elegant solution to
this conundrum. As mathematicians and mystics are aware, these polyhedra
are related to one another proportionally in a variety of ways. The harmonic
proportions that tie these forms together are not simple whole number ratios,
as in musical harmony, but a symphony ruled by irrational proportions.80 For
example, the square root of two is found in the diagonal of a square, the square
root of three in the diagonal of a cube, and the square root of five plus one over
two is the algebraic expression of the Golden Section that governs the measure
of the cardinal planes of the icosahedron. These irrational proportions recur as
determining relationships among all the Platonic solids.81
These determining relationships make it possible to nest the Platonic
solids by placing one inside the other in a variety of ways. One such geometrical
process begins with the icosahedron as the outermost form. The crossing of

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the thirty internal rays of the icosahedron creates a dodecahedron within the
icosahedron. (These rays correspond to the transversals and long edges of the
cardinal planes.) According to Lawlor,
The establishment of the dodecahedron automatically gives rise to the
cube defined by the 8 vertices of the dodecahedron The diagonals
of the faces of this cube form an interlocking or star tetrahedron
The volume enclosed by the two interlocking tetrahedra defines
an octahedron, thus completing the composite group of regular
polyhedra.82
Labans familiarity with these harmonic proportional relationships is
evidenced by his drawings. For example, Figure 6-9, which is based on Labans
color rendering shown in Plate N, depicts one nest of Platonic solids. Here the
icosahedron forms the outermost shape. A dodecahedron is situated inside,
and a tilted cube can be distinguished within the dodecahedron.

Figure 6-9. Nested polyhedra: icosahedron, dodecahedron, and cube.

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Figure 6-10, which is based on Labans color drawing shown in Plate O,

depicts another set of relationships. Here the cube surrounds two interlocking
tetrahedra. Their intersections in turn inscribe an octahedron at the very center
of the form.

Figure 6-10.
Nested polyhedra: cube, interlocking tetrahedra, and octahedron.
Ullmann addresses these harmonic relations in editorial commentary added
to Labans treatise, The Language of Movement. She explains that
the icosahedron, in fact, is a structural whole (it embraces the pentagondodecahedron which in turn is a dynamic compilation of the cube with
its octahedral kernel formed by two tetrahedra penetrating one another)
which can provide a basis for comprehending the multitude of forms
created by the flux of energy as it gives a means for tracing their
selection and interrelations.83
The significance of these proportional relationships for the study of
movement is elucidated by Bodmer. She notes that these polyhedra, related in
concentric order, form harmonic structures in space. Through and around them,
movements performed by the body can be seen to evolve in different ways.84
In addition to the pattern of concentric nesting delineated above, a variety of
other proportional relationships exist among the Platonic solids.85 This means
that choreutic trace-forms modeled on the icosahedron or dodecahedron can
be compared with eukinetic patterns of effort change modeled on the cube,
octahedron, or tetrahedron in any number of ways. Thus, morphological

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interconnections between the five regular polyhedra provided Laban with a

systematic method for modeling and examining the distinctive domains of effort
and space in harmonic relation to one another.86
A Working Definition of Movement Harmony
As noted in the preceding sections, Labans concept of movement harmony
incorporates notions of (1) ratio and proportion, (2) balance, (3) symmetry, (4)
unity of form, (5) interrelationship of elements, and (6) individual differences
in movement style. These notions may now be integrated as follows.
Harmonic movements depend upon a full and rich range of motion. In
choreutic terms, the mover must have full access to all areas of threedimensional space. Physical balance of this full range of motion is to be
maintained, not through a fixed placement or held muscular alignment. Rather,
equilibrium is to be achieved through the experience of flowing trace-forms
that oscillate symmetrically around the bodys center. The body center that
Laban designates is that of the navel, and this is important for proportional
reasons. The navel marks the Golden Section of the height of the adult human
being and also coincides with the point of intersection of the three golden
rectangles that form the inner scaffolding of the icosahedron, Labans preferred
model for the kinesphere. This correspondence of corporeal and kinespheric
centers establishes a fundamental relationship between the structure of the
body and that of space.
In eukinetic terms, the prerequisite for harmonic movement is full access
to all dynamic qualities. Eukinetic balance is to be maintained through a
fluctuating pattern of exertion and recuperation. This fundamental pattern of
dynamic change is inherent in fleeting movement phrases as well as across
more prolonged sequences of motor activity. Again, Laban models this as an
oscillating shift between contrasting action moods, one which is characterized
by gradual change or modulation, analogous to the harmonic progression from
key to key in music.
Laban views symmetry as the simplest manifestation of harmony,
contributing both to a sense of balance and a unity of form. Prototypic movement
sequences in the kinesphere and dynamosphere are developed through symmetry
operations and mapped or modeled on various Platonic solids. These solids
are proportionally interrelated and can be nested in various ways. These various
nestings allow for controlled comparison between patterns mapped on one
form and those diagrammed on another. In this way, geometrical representation

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facilitates not only the modeling of component domains but also the exploration
of systemic interrelationships.
Now, based upon the authors study of unpublished theoretical materials
from the final two decades of his career, the following chapters trace how
Laban systematically extended the analogic metaphor of movement harmony.
Chapter 7 examines his concepts of tone, scale, interval, and transposition in
relation to choreutic forms. Chapter 8 examines the concept of modulation in
relation to eukinetic patterns. Chapter 9 presents Labans culminating model
of the harmonic affinities of effort and space and explores the heuristic value
of Labans theory of movement harmony.

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Notes
11. Laban, Language of Movement, 49.
12. Bergson, Creative Mind, 16.
13. Laban, Language of Movement, 3.
14. Shakespeare, Hamlet, 2,2,316.
15. Laban, Language of Movement, 122-123.
16. Black, Models and Metaphors, 237-238.
17. Ibid., 222.
18. Ibid.
19. Collins, cited in Brown, Poetic for Sociology, 120.
10. Nicomachus, Manual of Harmonics, explains how the diatonic scale was
developed by Pythagoras.
11. Jourdain, Music, Brain, and Ecstasy, 77.
12. Livio, Golden Ratio, 183.
13. Laban, Language of Movement, 29.
14. Ibid.
15. Ibid., 82.
16. Ibid., 108.
17. Ghyka, cited in Neroman, Le nombre dor, 138.
18. Johnson, Treat Your Knees, 34.
19. Laban, Language of Movement, 106.
20. Ibid., 107.
21. Schneider, Beginners Guide, 124.
22. Lawlor, Sacred Geometry, 45.
23. Schneider, Beginners Guide, 124.
24. Doczi, Power of Limits, 96.
25. Schneider, Beginners Guide, 126.
26. Laban, Language of Movement, 108.
27. Drer, cited in Livio, Golden Ratio, 139.
28. Panofsky, Life and Art of Drer, 267.
29. Panofsky, Codex Huygens, 124.
30. Laban, manuscript, L/E/38/4, Laban Archive, NRCD.
31. Laban, Language of Movement, 5.
32. Ibid., 6.
33. Ibid., 94.
34. Laban, manuscript, L/E/3/3, Laban Archive, NRCD.
35. Laban, Language of Movement, 89.

216

36.
37.
38.
39.
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.
45.
46.
47.
48.
49.
50.
51.
52.
53.
54.
55.
56.
57.
58.
59.
60.
61.
62.
63.
64.
65.
66.
67.
68.
69.
70.
71.

Albarn et al, Language of Pattern, 20.

Giger, cited in Wade, Crystal and Dragon, 119.
Hargittai and Hargittai, Symmetry, xv.
Wade, Crystal and Dragon, 118.
Ibid., 123.
Hargittai and Hargittai, Symmetry, 124.
Senechal and Fleck, Patterns of Symmetry, 14.
Hargittai and Hargittai, Symmetry, 16.
Longstaff, Cognitive Structures, 149.
Hargittai and Hargittai, Symmetry, 124.
Longstaff, Cognitive Structures, 141-142.
Ibid., 152.
Laban, Language of Movement, 81.
Ibid., 79.
Ibid., 82.
Ibid., 88-89.
Vitruvius, cited in Wade, Crystal and Dragon, 119.
Vitruvius, cited in Ghyka, Geometry of Art, x.
Ghyka, Geometry of Art, xi.
Raskin, Architectually Speaking, 60.
Ibid.
Laban, Language of Movement, 5.
Laban, Mastery of Movement, 66, 67.
Wlfflin, Prologomena, 712.
Raskin, Architecturally Speaking, 60.
Endell, Beauty of Form.
Weiss, Kandinsky in Munich, 36.
Laban, Language of Movement, 3.
Ibid., 4.
Laban, manuscript, E(L)38/4, 9, Laban Archive, NRCD.
Copeland, What to Listen for.
Laban, Language of Movement, 67.
Laban, Kinetic Harmony, E(L)18/3, Laban Archive, NRCD.
Laban, manuscript, E(L)4/75, Laban Archive, NRCD.
Laban, Language of Movement, 93.
Laban, manuscript, E(L)18/15, Laban Archive, NRCD.

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72. Lamb and Watson, Body Code; Moore, Movement and Making Decisions;
Kestenberg and Sossin, Role of Movement Patterns.
73. Laban, Language of Movement, 111.
74. Ibid.
75. In his discussion of knots and twisted circles in The Language of Movement
(95-98), Laban depicts these sequences as kinespheric trace-forms using
direction symbols. In the discussion, however, he describes knots and
twisted circles as dynamospheric sequences. This type of dual
representation is most confusing and necessitates careful interpretation.
Similarly, in addition to the cubic models of states and drives discussed in
Chapter 5, tetrahedral and octahedral models can be found among Labans
papers (see Ch. 5, note 54). When these models are nested proportionally
in relation to one another, the spatial positioning of effort elements
corresponds. Yet these would seem to be formal models of dynamospheric
relationships, not representations of effort-space affinities, for it is not
sensible to think that a given state or drive inhabits only a single zone of
the kinesphere.
76. Laban, manuscript, E(L)18/15, Laban Archive, NRCD.
77. Eight of the 20 corners of the dodecahedron correspond to the cubic
diagonals. The other 12 corners are analogous to corners of the cardinal
planes of the icosahedron, but these planes reverse the proportional
relationships so that, for example, the vertical plane is more wide than tall.
In any case, 20 signal points make for a much more complex system of
kinespheric orientation than the 12 points of the icosahedron.
78. When Laban draws a figure inside a dodecahedron, he tends to use the
shape to represent a slightly smaller kinesphere than that represented by
the icosahedron (see Figure 6-2). Similarly, other drawings, such as Plate
B, depict a small icosahedron surrounded by a larger dodecahedron, which
is in turn encompassed by an even larger icosashedron. These visual
representations suggest that the icosahedron serves as a model for the traceforms that are created by fully extended limbs, while the dodecahedron
provides a model for trace-forms created by flexed limbs.
79. The icosahedron has 12 corners, 20 faces, and 30 edges. Its dual, the
dodecahedron, has the same number of edges, but it has 20 corners and
only 12 faces. The dual of the tetrahedron is another tetrahedron (producing
the stella octangula). The cube (six faces and eight corners)and the
octahedron (eight faces and six corners) are duals, sharing 12 edges but

218

80.
81.
82.
83.
84.

85.

86.

reversing the number of faces and corners. For more on duals, see, Pearce
and Pearce, Polyhedra Primer.
Gyhka, Geometry of Art, 44.
Critchlow, Platonic Tradition, 167.
Lawlor, Sacred Geometry, 101.
Cited in Laban, Language of Movement, 195.
Bodmer, Harmonics in Space, 27. Bodmer notes that the progression
from one polyhedron to another reveals different modes of expression.
For example, she relates the tetrahedron to small, vibratory movements
emanating from the center of the body, analogous to an undifferentiated
organismic impulse to move. The cube relates to small expressive
movements of the trunk, with defined effort qualities. The octahedron is a
bridge to space, relating to the dimensional structure of the body (verticality
of the spine, horizontal reach of the arms, and sagittal locomotion with the
legs). The icosahedron relates to enlarged movements of the body. In
contrast, the dodecahedron gives a slight inward drawing quality to the
movement (29). Bodmers discussion demonstrates the heuristic value of
these models and their harmonic relationships as a means for thinking about
bodily movement in space.
From drawings in the Rudolf Laban Archive, it is clear that Laban examined
a number of these relationships. In addition to the duals (cube/octahedron
and icosahedron/dodecahedron) his sketches show an interest in tetrahedral/
cubic, cubic/dodecahedral, tetrahedral/dodecahedral, and cubic/icosahedral
relationships.
It should be born in mind that harmony, in its broadest sense, brings things
that are different into relationship through proportional means. Laban
appears to employ proportional relations between polyhedral models in
this way.

CHAPTER 7

Tone, Scale, Interval, and Transposition

This chapter examines harmonic principles as these relate to the choreutic
domain of Labans taxonomy. Discussion draws on two of Labans published
treatises that focus on spatial form: Choreographie, written in 1926, and
Choreutics, written in 1938-39.1 This examination is developed further by
reference to the oral tradition through which choreutic forms are taught in the
dance/movement studio. Finally, unpublished materials from the final two
decades of Labans career are referenced to round out consideration of how
Laban was developing choreutic aspects of his theory of movement harmony.
The aim of this chapter is three-fold. First, key choreutic forms are identified
and their oral transmission as movement practices is discussed. Secondly, scales
and rhythmic circles are scrutinized for their underlying design principles and
analogous relations to harmonic concepts such as tone, scale, interval, and
transposition. Finally, concepts drawn from topology are introduced to
demonstrate how Laban was moving choreutic theory forward at the end of his
career.
Chronological Development
As noted earlier, Labans interest in articulating principles of movement
harmony initially emerged alongside his efforts to develop a dance notation
system. The latter led to the use of Platonic solids to establish coordinate points
and prototypic lines of movement. Laban elaborated on these lines of movement
by identifying and/or designing rhythmic circles and movement sequences
that became known as scales. By the time Laban published Choreographie
in 1926, he had created the following choreutic forms:
1. Dimensional scale (also referred to as the defense scale)
2. Planar elaborations of this scale as transverse twelve-rings (commonly
called the A and B scales)
3. Cardinal planes as well as tilted planes (also known as four-rings
and, somewhat curiously, as two-rings)

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4. Peripheral three-rings (commonly known as polar triangles since

these surround the ends of the cubic diagonals where these diagonals
pierce faces of the icosahedron)
5. Transverse six-rings (referred to as axis scales or clusters, since
these surround a diagonal axis)
6. Peripheral six-rings (also known as equators or girdles since these
encircle the midline of a diagonal axis).
These forms are reiterated in Choreutics. In addition, Laban introduces a
peripheral twelve-ring, which is known as the standard scale or, alternatively,
as the primary scale. A posthumous section was added to Labans text by his
editor, Lisa Ullmann, incorporating additional forms that Laban had developed
between the writing of Choreutics in 1938-39 and his death in 1958. Included
in these forms are peripheral five-rings, apex swings, peripheral seven-rings,
and mixed seven-rings.
A further cataloguing, as well as elaboration of Labans choreutic forms,
is found in Preston-Dunlops treatise, Point of Departure. Because this author
does not provide references, it is difficult to discern additional forms developed
by Laban from those elaborated by Preston-Dunlop herself.
Finally, unpublished materials in the Rudolf Laban Archive contain a large
number of drawings of many-sided rings situated in various Platonic solids.
These demonstrate that Laban applied a consistent method of construction.
Only a few of these unpublished rings seem to have been carried forward into
practice to become a part of the oral transmission of choreutic theory. Many
forms appear to be ongoing theoretical explorations, best viewed as variations
on a theme. It is perhaps not entirely far-fetched to say that Laban was fond of
certain kinds of mathematical puzzles. Typically, these types of puzzles involve
graphs representing maps or roadways, and the challenge is to find a way, for
instance, for the lazy street sweeper to clean each road only once, ending back
in the spot where he started sweeping. In other cases, the aim is to visit every
vertex of a graph only once, ending at the original vertex.2 Laban appears to
have traced out such puzzles using the edges and corners of the Platonic solids,
over and over again. Sometimes he follows the rules outlined above, sometimes
he makes up his own rules, using edges and visiting corners more than once. In
any case, there are copious examples of such explorations among Labans
unpublished papers.

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Choreutic Forms in the Oral Tradition

Choreutic forms have been taught by Laban and his colleagues and students
as practical dance theory of space since the mid-1920s.3 This oral tradition
of transmission provides insight into how abstract geometrical shapes are
translated into bodily practices. The oral tradition has preserved Labans original
admonition that new dance should incorporate a more natural kind of
movement in which the whole body takes part in the scalar swings.4 This
leads to a style of embodiment in which the right or left arm leads the whole
body through the sequence of spatial inclinations that make up the form. Beyond
this, details of performance e.g., use of the legs and opposite arm, placement
of the head, phrasing, and effort content are often left to the mover to work
out. While the order of points passed through is specified, and unity of form
through full-bodied involvement is advocated, there is room for individual
expression as movers work through details of performance on their own.
Typically, students learn the scales by following the instructor through the
sequence. This repeated practice may be augmented by explanation of the
rationale of the order of directions, the use of notated spatial motifs as a
mnemonic reference, or compositional assignments based on the forms.
Remembering the spatial sequence and maintaining balance and orientation in
the off-vertical transverse and peripheral sequences prove challenging to many
movers. Moreover, many sequences seem designed to increase range of motion,
so certain transitions can be difficult to negotiate.
Examples of what Preston-Dunlop refers to as the congruent behaviour
of all body parts, may be found in the photographs and illustrations of
Choreographie, as well as Laban for All.5 In the latter treatise, illustrations
and detailed instructions prescribe the manner of performance for the
dimensional, diagonal, A, and B scales and seem to preserve the original style
of embodiment. More open-ended suggestions for a variety of approaches to
embodying choreutic forms may be found in Preston-Dunlops Point of
Departure; in addition, the post-modern choreographer William Forsythe has
articulated a number of novel compositional techniques that take Labans
choreutic forms as their starting point but result in dramatically different modes
of performance.6
Historic and contemporary approaches to embodiment illuminate differing
functions of choreutic forms. When these designs are meant to stand as
exemplars of harmony, an emphasis on full body involvement and a congruent
style of performance may serve to deepen the movers experience of the unity

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of form and its orderly progression. On the other hand, when these spatial
designs serve as a point of departure for choreographic invention, an openended and highly individualistic approach to embodiment is more likely to
facilitate the compositional process. Both approaches demonstrate ways in
which links may be found between abstract theory and embodied action.
The harmonic principles that Laban established are embedded in the
choreutic forms themselves. The oral tradition indicates that Laban viewed
embodiment as a sufficient means of understanding harmonic form. This is, of
course, a knowing from within, a kind of gnosis through direct kinesthetic
experience. While this kind of knowing from within may suffice for the dancer,
it does little to open the dancers experience of harmony to broader and more
public consideration. Thus, to better articulate principles of harmony embedded
in choreutic forms, my discussion moves on to explore analogic relationships
in music and movement between tone, scale, interval, and transposition. This
discussion begins with a simple description of balanced symmetry and order
in selected choreutic forms.
Balanced Symmetry and Order in Choreutic Forms
As noted in Chapter 4, Labans formulation of the dancers space started
with the cardinal directions encapsulated within an octahedral geography. This
theory unfolded to a consideration of the diagonal directions of a cubic
geography. These two geographies of the kinesphere allowed Laban to identify
central lines of motion that represent, respectively, stable and mobile
trajectories. The sequences of movement that Laban designed along these axes
provide the first examples of how he embedded balanced symmetry and order
in choreutic forms.
Dimensional and Diagonal Sequences. By the mid-1920s Laban had
created ordered sequences or movement scales traversing these axial lines.
These scales were designed to familiarize the dancer with salient features of
the kinesphere, both experientially and conceptually. The sequences that Laban
developed were based upon the reflective symmetry of moving first in one
direction and then in the opposite direction along a given axis. The order of
these directional movements was not chosen arbitrarily. For example, Laban
drew the sequence of the dimensional or defense scale from the opening
movements of fencing. The sequence alternates directions, moving along the
vertical, horizontal, and sagittal axes in a pattern of up/down, crossed/ open,
backward/forward that is based upon a logical defense of vulnerable areas of

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the body. This pattern is shown in Figure 7-1, which represents the sequence
being led by the right arm.

Figure 7-1. Defense scale led by right arm.

The diagonal scale follows a similar pattern of reflective symmetry, moving
in one direction and then its opposite along the cubic diagonals. Movement
along each diagonal always begins at the upper end and traverses to the lower
end. In addition, there is an orderly progression from axis to axis, starting with
the diagonals that rise toward the cubic corners in front of the body and fall
into the space behind the body, then shifting to the diagonals that rise toward
the cubic corners behind the body and fall forward. This sequence is shown in
Figure 7-2, which represents the pattern being led by the right arm.

Figure 7-2. Diagonal scale led by right arm.

The dimensional and diagonal scales are not rhythmic circles, as they
are not usually performed by returning to the point of origin. In this sense
these sequences seem to have served a didactic purpose in the oral transmission
of choreutic theory, establishing key lines of motion that stand as the prototypes
of stability and mobility.
Transforming the Dimensional Scale: The A Scale. As Laban expanded
his taxonomy of space to incorporate the cardinal planes and an icosahedral
geography, he appears to have found a way to transform the dimensional scale,
shifting trajectories from central lines of motion to transversals and, in the
process, generating a rhythmic circle that touched every corner of the
icosahedron before returning to the point of origin. This rhythmic circle is
known as the A scale. Although the process of discovery is not documented,
it may have emerged from movement classes in which students were instructed

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to perform the defense scale as a series of big looping swings. Such freely
swinging motions tend to lose the spatial precision of the dimensions, and to
deviate towards the deflected directions of the planes.7 Thus the up/down,
across/open, backward/forward order of the defense scale was transformed to
yield the first six planar inclinations of the A scale, shown in Figure 7-3.

Figure 7-3. Right A scale, first half.

Laban was able to derive the second half of the A scale by applying the
symmetry operations of reflection and retrograde, following a reverse
performance of the directions of the swings.8 In this case the order becomes
down/up, open/across, forward/backward, deviating into the planes, as shown
in Figure 7-4.

Figure 7-4. Right A scale, second half.

The A scale can be performed continuously by swinging back to the opening
corner of the vertical plane, making it a rhythmic circle that touches all 12
basic directions of the icosahedron.9 If the A scale is reflected laterally, the
trace-form is translated to tranversals more easily reached by the left arm, and
a mirror version results, as shown in Figure 7-5.

Figure 7-5. Left A scale as complete circle.

The B Scale: Echo of the A Scale. Symmetry operations appear to have
played a role in the development of the B scale, another tranverse twelve-ring
that can be thought of as the companion or echo form of the A scale. It is

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possible that Laban discovered this scale through a compositional exercise in

which two dancers face each other and join right hands. Laban specifies that
the hands are to stay joined all the time. If one dancer leads, swinging the A
scale, while the second dancer simply follows, the second dancer will create
an echo of the inclinations of the A scale.10 This echo form reverses the
sequences of opening and crossing and advancing and retreating, while
maintaining the same pattern of upward and downward trajectories. The first
six directional inclinations of the A scale and their B scale echo are shown in
Figure 7-6.

Figure 7-6. In echo form, open/across and forward/backward patterns are

reversed, while level stays the same.
Diagonal Influence in the A and B Scales. In both Choreographie and
Choreutics, Laban describes the A scale as having a defensive quality, while
the B scale has an attacking nature.11 Laban attributes these qualities to the
diagonals that are present or absent in the scale. Since these scales follow
transversals of the icosahedron, rather than diagonal pathways of the cube,
Labans rationale may strike the reader as rather obscure. This seeming obscurity
can be dispelled by elaborating two points. First, Laban viewed the deflected
directions (planar diameters, peripherals, and transversals of the icosahedron)
as deviations of both dimensions and diagonals. Of the 24 internal rays of the
icosahedron that Laban identified as transversals, six are roughly parallel to
(or deflected from) each of the four diagonals. Secondly, Laban associated the
two diagonals that rise upward and fall backward as having a more passive,
defensive quality, while the diagonals that rise backward and fall forward were
thought to have a more active, attacking quality, as shown in Figure 7-7. This
association seems to have been based upon his observations of martial arts, in
which an offensive movement downward and forward is stronger and more
active than a defensive movement backward and downward, which places the
mover in a more vulnerable position.

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(a)

(b)

Figure 7-7.
(a) Cubic diagonals fall backwards. (b) Cubic diagonals fall forwards.
In the right A scale, interestingly, all the transversals that are roughly parallel
to the diagonal
[(high, back, right
low, forward, left; see Figure 77(b)] are missing. The absence of one of the fighting diagonals gives the
scale a more passive quality. In fact, the majority of transversals making up the
right A scale are more or less parallel to the two passive diagonals that fall
backwards [Figure 7-7(a)]. The same situation applies to all the A and B scales.
Ironically, however, the diagonal hidden from view is often referred to as the
axis of the scale, since a geometric-model of the A- or B-scales reveals that
this absent diagonal is the axis of rotational symmetry for the scale.12
Labans discussion in Choreographie of the influence of the diagonal axes
on the nature of choreutic forms is the first example of the salient role that
these axial lines play in his harmonic theory. As to be seen, each of the cubic
diagonals functions as a harmonic center for a number of related choreutic
forms. These forms cluster around the diagonal axis, just as the spokes of a
wheel converge on the hub. The spokes are visible, while the hub is empty.
Similarly, the lines of the choreutic forms related to a given diagonal axis are
enacted as visible trace-forms, while the axis itself functions as the invisible
hub around which the other visible forms rotate. It is interesting to note that
Laban attributes the characteristic kinetic quality of different choreutic forms
as much to the missing axis as to the visible lines of motion that make up the
trace-form.
Transverse and Peripheral Six-Rings. By 1926, Laban had identified two
more types of scales situated within the icosahedron: the axis and the equator

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or girdle. There are four axis scales, each surrounding one of the cubic diagonals.
Each axis scale is made up of six transversals that are roughly parallel to its
diagonal axis. These transversals can be joined to create a sharply angled traceform that veers from a corner of the icosahedron near the upper end of the
diagonal to a corner of the icosahedron near the lower end of the diagonal. The
zigzag progression is orderly, veering from the vertical to the sagittal to the
horizontal plane until the trace-form returns to its point of origin. The sequence
is shown in Figure 7-8. The total trace-form looks like a hexagon turned inside
out. Laban associates this to-and-fro movement around a diagonal axis with
pendular movements, such as the swaying of a drunken man, or one who is
tired or falling asleep.13

Figure 7-8. Axis scale around

diagonal.

In contrast, each of the four equator scales circles the center of one of the
four cubic diagonals. These are peripheral sequences, tracing edges of the
icosahedron. The order of progression moves from a corner of the vertical
plane, to a corner of the horizontal plane, to a corner of the sagittal plane, and
so on, until the trace-form circles back to its point of origin, as shown in Figure
7-9. The hexagonal equator is roughly perpendicular to its diagonal axis. The
equator does not lie in a single plane, however, for three of its corners are
closer to the upper end of the diagonal while three of its vertices are closer to
the lower end. Consequently, the equator traces a wavy circle around the middle
of the axial line. Laban identifies the equator with emphatic gestures and

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actions used in dancing and fighting.14 Off-vertical turns and movements that
spiral towards or rise from the floor often follow a part of an equator.

Figure 7-9. Equator scale around

diagonal.

The axis and equator do not immediately reverse direction along a single
line of motion, but shift from plane to plane around a diagonal axis.
Nevertheless, there are patterns of reflective symmetry and retrograde motion
in both these scales. As in the A and B scales, symmetry operations are
introduced halfway through the sequence. For example, the first and fourth
tranversals of the axis scale shown in Figure 7-10 are parallel reflections of
one another. In the opening movement of the sequence, however, the dancer
sinks and retreats, while the parallel fourth inclination is traced in the opposite
direction; that is, as a rising and advancing motion.

Figure 7-10. Parallel transversals of axis scale.

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Peripheral and Transverse Three-Rings. Peripheral three-rings are also

called polar triangles. Laban identified eight of these three-rings, each circling
one end of one of the four cubic diagonals. As noted earlier (p. 135), when the
cubic diagonals are situated within the icosahedral model of the kinesphere,
they each pierce two faces of the icosahedron. The polar triangles are formed
by the edges of the faces pierced by the diagonals. Each corner of a polar
triangle belongs to a different plane. The triangles at either end of a diagonal
reveal a pattern of glide reflection (see p. 200). The polar triangles around the
diagonal are shown in Figure 7-11.

Figure 7-11.
Peripheral three-rings.
Laban also identified eight transverse three-rings, two related to each of
the cubic diagonals. These three-rings are situated around the middle of the
diagonal axis. Each corner of these triangles belongs to a different plane. The
two three-rings around each diagonal reveal a pattern of glide reflection. The
transverse three-rings around the diagonal are shown in Figure 7-12.

Figure 7-12.
Transverse three-rings.

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Cardinal and Tilted Planes: The Four-Rings. The cardinal planes have
already been identified as forming the inner scaffolding of the icosahedron.
These rectilinear planes are mixed four-rings, with sides of different types.
The two longer sides are internal rays of the icosahedron.15 The two shorter
sides are peripheral edges of the icosahedron. The cardinal planes form an
intersecting set of rings that are perpendicular to each other. This set of rings is
situated in the icosahedron so as to be either plumb or perpendicular to the line
of gravity.
Laban also identified additional intersecting sets of four-rings that are
neither plumb nor perpendicular to the line of gravity.16 These four-rings may
be thought of as tilted planes. There is only one set of cardinal planes, but
there are four sets of tilted planes: one derived from the right A scale, one from
the left A scale, one from the right B scale, and one from the left B scale. For
example, Laban constructed one set of these planes by selecting three pairs of
parallel tranversals from the left B scale. These pairs of parallel transversals
are shown in Figure 7-13.

Figure 7-13. Transversals labeled with same letter are parallel.

Peripheral edges of the icosahedron can be used to link these tranversals,
creating a rectilinear plane that is obliquely situated in the kinesphere. Each
tilted plane has two corners in one cardinal plane, and two corners in a different
cardinal plane. For example, one tilted plane has corners in the vertical and
horizontal planes. This trace-form resembles a door that is coming unhinged
and starting to swing obliquely. Another tilted plane has corners in the sagittal
and vertical planes. It resembles a wobbly wheel that is starting to tilt to one
side. The third tilted plane has corners in the horizontal and sagittal planes. It
resembles a slanting table that is no longer level. The intersecting set of tilted
planes derived from the left B scale is shown in Figure 7-14.
Following the edges of either type of four-ring produces an oval traceform that is flat and planar. Cycles in the cardinal planes, however, create
wall-like shapes that are steadfastly situated so as to bifurcate the kinesphere.

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Figure 7-14. Set of tilted planes related to diagonal axis of left B Scale.
Cycles in the tilted planes, on the other hand, cantilever through several zones
of the kinesphere. These oblique planes do not cut through space divisively;
instead, they seem to project, spread, or hover at an angle.
The Standard Scale and the Chromatic Scale
Laban had identified all the choreutic forms discussed above by 1926, for
all are included in Choreographie. On the other hand, his culminating creation,
the standard scale, evolved in the late 1930s, and was introduced for the first
time in a chapter of Choreutics written during this period. Laban identified
four of these standard scales, each oriented around one of the cubic diagonals.
Each scale meanders along edges of the icosahedron, tracing soft curves and
touching each of the twelve corners of the cardinal planes before returning to
the point of origin.
Laban designed the standard scale as the analogue model of the chromatic
scale in music. The chromatic scale establishes a set of ordered tonal
relationships from which additional scales and chords may be constructed.
Analogously, the standard scale (also known as the primary scale) establishes
a set of spatial relationships from which additional harmonic trace-forms may
be developed. In order to illuminate this relationship, it is necessary to discuss
similarities between the sphere of sound and the sphere of movement.
The Sound Sphere and the Kinesphere. Sound is a vibratory phenomenon
that travels through space. Helmholtz characterized this motion as a spherical
propagation in all directions, leading Vandenbroeck to note that sound is

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volume. 17 Consequently, the musical universe is three dimensional,

conceivable as a vertical dimension of harmonics or overtones, a horizontal
dimension of interval and the third dimension of sound reaching the ear.18
Other musicologists have described harmony as musics third dimension, its
depth dimension (with the breadth of time and height of pitch space as the first
two dimensions).19 In either case, sound is conceived as a spatial phenomenon
as well as a temporal one.
Sound is produced when an object is set into vibratory motion. The
frequency of the vibration affects pitch the height or depth of the sound.
Pitches range along a continuum. Some sounds are pitched beyond the
perceptual range of the human ear, while other irregular and indefinite sounds
are considered unmusical.20 Music concerns itself with sounds of a definite
pitch called tones. In the Far East music can move from one level to another
through very small degrees called MICROTONES, Holst observes, but in
the West, composers limit themselves to a few definite levels of pitch.21 Thus
tones divide pitch space, ordering it in definite intervals and laying a foundation
for musical harmony.
The first division of pitch space in Western music is the octave. Its discovery
is credited to the Greek mathematician Pythagoras, who found that a string
divided at the mid-point emits the same tone as the one sounded when the
whole string is plucked. The only difference is pitch. The divided string vibrates
twice as fast, sounding the note an octave higher. As Jourdain chronicles, a
pure Pythagorean scale was used in the West for almost two thousand years, as
much for the way it is constructed as the way it sounded. It is a geometers
delight, with the most important intervals formed by simple frequency ratios.22
He goes on to describe the development of this scale as follows:
the octave midpoint is key to partitioning an octave-wide range of
frequencies into the twelve perceptual categories we call C, C-sharp,
D, D-sharp, and so on. Scale building begins by selecting a frequency
that will be called C, doubling it to form an octave, then halving the
octave to obtain G. The G is then doubled into an octave, which in turn
is halved to produce D. D is used as the basis of the next octave, and
on it goes until twelve tones have been produced. The midpoint of the
last octave arrives back at the starting point, C. So the process leads to
the twelve-note scale quite neatly.23

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The new notes are spread over a wide range of frequencies, but they can
be halved in frequency until all fall within the starting octave to make a
continuous scale.24 Unfortunately, because frequency rises logarithmically
with rising pitch, the final note of the Pythagorean scale was not precisely in
tune with the starting note of the scale. This problem was resolved during the
Baroque period through the introduction of tempered tuning. This procedure
evened out distances between notes so that each would rise in frequency by
the same 5.9 percent as the note before.25 This resulted in the creation of an
orderly row of twelve tempered semitones that has come to be known as the
chromatic scale. Every key on the piano represents one of these semitones.
Thus the chromatic scale can be heard by playing up or down through every
black or white key between one octave and the next.26 Western music is built
on these twelve half-steps through the octave. They provide equidistant tonal
markers on the sphere of sound, at least for audiences who are used to this
structuring of tonal space.
Laban detected a structural congruity between the twelve tempered
semitones that define the spherical pitch space of Western music and the twelve
corners of the icosahedron that give definition to the dancers space.27 As a
regular polyhedron, the corners of the icosahedron are evenly distributed in
three-dimensional space, providing equidistant spatial markers for the
kinesphere. Moreover, these corners correspond to the endpoints of the
diameters of the cardinal planes. As noted in Chapter 4 (pp. 129-131), the
planar diameters are deflected directions. These lines of motion literally lie
between the cardinal dimensions and the cubic diagonals. In Labans view,
the planar diameters temper the stability of the dimensions as well as the
mobility of the diagonals. This leads him to draw an analogy between the
twelve corners of the icosahedron and the twelve tempered semitones, for these
equidistant landmarks divide the movement space of kinesphere in a regular
and orderly way just as the tempered semitones evenly divide the pitch space
of the sound sphere.
Constructing the Standard Scale. A scale is not a scale, however, until its
tones are arranged in some sort of order. The Pythagoreans generated their
ordered twelve-tone scale by doubling and halving tones to fill in gaps between
notes. Laban does not fully articulate the process by which he generated his
standard scales, other than to indicate that he drew points from the axis and
equator in alternation. This makes sense if the axis scale surrounding a diagonal
is taken as the initial scaffolding for the standard scale of that diagonal. The

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axis begins and ends at the same location, as a good scale should, but the
points it passes through are widely scattered in the kinesphere; that is, the
signal points of this scale can be thought of as whole tones. Laban had to find
a way to fill in the gaps between these points in order to circuit the kinesphere
in an orderly sequence of half-steps. He did this by halving each transversal to
find the next point in his standard scale sequence. For example, a steep
transversal connecting corners of the vertical and sagittal planes passes through
the horizontal plane. By diverting this steep trajectory so that it passes
peripherally through the nearest corner of the horizontal plane, a half-step can
be found that links the vertical and sagittal planes. The signal points that can
be used to divide the transversals of the axis scale are those found within the
equator scale. Thus, by skillfully inserting a point of the equator between two
points of the axis scale, Laban was able to generate a chromatic sequence of
half-steps. The standard scale traces edges of the icosahedron, moving from a
corner of the vertical plane to an adjacent corner of the horizontal plane, and
on to the nearest corner of the sagittal plane. In this way the Standard Scale
winds through the kinesphere, visiting all twelve signal points, before
returning to its starting location. The resulting sequence is depicted in Figure
7-15.

Figure 7-15. Standard scale around

axis.

Mathematical Aspects of the Standard Scale. Labans published

explanation of the construction of the standard scale may be disingenuous. He
might have solved this puzzle with his pencil, by tracing various edges of the

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icosahedron, so as to visit each corner only once while circling back to the
starting point. From a mathematicians point of view, the icosahedron is a regular
graph on a sphere, and the standard scales identified by Laban are Hamiltonian
circuits that visit every corner once and return to the starting corner. The four
circuits identified by Laban are not the only Hamiltonian circuits that may be
traced on this graph. Indeed, Valerie Preston-Dunlop has identified ten more.28
The ones that Laban identified, however, follow rigorous rules of composition.
These meandering pathways move through only six of the eight zones of the
kinesphere. The polar zones that surround the ends of the diagonal axis are to
be avoided, as is the equatorial area that surrounds the middle of axis. In other
words, Laban creates a kind of no flyzone around the diagonal axis.
Nevertheless, he still finds a way to touch every corner of the icosahedron by
following edges of the six remaining polar triangles. Tracing two edges of
each triangle results in a set of six curves that meander, first clock-wise, then
counter-clockwise, gracefully winding through the kinesphere while avoiding
the diagonal no fly zone.
Laban may have found the sequence of the standard scale through trial and
error, for as noted earlier (see p. 220 and note 2), working out Euler and
Hamiltonian circuits on polyhedral graphs appears to have been a favorite
pastime. On the other hand, Laban might have found these Hamiltonian circuits
through a process of elimination that goes something like this. The icosahedron
has 30 edges that can be used as potential pathways through space. However,
the choreutic forms that Laban identified avoid using the shorter edges of the
cardinal planes.29 These lines, which lie within one plane, are only two
dimensional lines of motion, whereas the other peripheral lines of the
icosahedron are three-dimensional. So, these six peripheral lines may be
removed from consideration, as shown in Figure 7-16.

Figure 7-16. Icosahedron without

peripheral edges of the cardinal
planes.

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Secondly, as noted above, Labans standard scale avoids the edges of the
polar triangles surrounding the scales diagonal axis. So these six peripheral
lines may be removed from consideration. The edges around
have been
removed in Figure 7-17.

Figure 7-17. Icosahedron

without peripheral edges
of the polar triangles
around
axis.

Finally, Labans standard scale avoids the kinespheric zone around the
middle of the diagonal axis; that is, the edges of the kinesphere marked by the
equator. These six lines have been removed in Figure 7-18.

Figure 7-18. Icosahedron without

peripheral edges of the equator.

When these 18 edges are eliminated from consideration, the trace-form

remaining is the twelve-sided standard scale shown in Figure 7-19 for the
axis. This Hamiltonian circuit is symmetrical in three planes. The shape of the
trace-form above the horizontal plane is a glide reflection of the shape of the
trace-form below this plane, the portion of the trace that lies to the left of the
sagittal plane is a glide reflection of the shape to the right of this plane, and so
on.

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Figure 7-19. Remaining peripheral

edges of icosahedron reveal
standard scale around
axis.

Empirical Correspondences: The Standard Scale and Range of Motion

While Laban may appear to be doing nothing more than playing an elaborate
game, the standard scale sequences outline relationships between range of
motion and trace-forms. Each abstract scale replicates pathways that arise
naturally in peripheral movements occurring in the outer limits of ones
kinesphere, usually initiated by the extremities.30 Consider, for example, what
happens when the right arm begins to move from the upper right corner of the
vertical plane towards the back deep corner of the sagittal plane. Due to
rotational limitations of the shoulder joint, the fully extended arm will tend to
abduct as it moves downward, widening into the horizontal plane before sinking
and narrowing toward the midline of the body to reach the back low corner of
the sagittal plane. In this trajectory, shown in Figure 7-20, the limb literally
traces a path that follows the edges of the icosahedron. The path traced is a
part of the standard scale.

Figure 7-20. Peripheral pathway

mirrors natural range of motion.

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In only a few instances does the trajectory indicated by the standard scale
deviate from a naturally-occurring pathway. For example, in reaching with the
right arm from left side low to forward high, it is not necessary to deviate into
the horizontal plane by circuiting through left forward middle (see Figure 721). The deviation prescribed by Laban, however, increases range of motion
and also preserves the full volume of the kinesphere by staying on an edge
rather than cutting transversely through the interior space of the icosahedron.
Thus, the standard scale serves a descriptive purpose representing prototypic
peripheral pathways as well as a prescriptive aim specifying sequences
designed to extend range of motion throughout the kinesphere.

Figure 7-21. Peripheral pathway

designed to increase range of motion.
Harmonic Correspondences in the Standard Scale
As Jourdain notes, the choice of scales is important in determining what
can and cannot be constructed. 31 He goes on to observe that twelve
subdivisions of pitch space seem to be just about the right number. There are
enough tones to drive the brain to the limits of what it can easily categorize,
but not beyond. At the same time the scale provides a large enough number of
tones to build a harmonic system.32 Laban appears to feel this way about his
partitioning of the kinesphere, for he writes that the twelve points of the
kinesphere not only make a division of space possible, but also are in themselves
units of harmonic interrelations. The criterion by which harmonic relations
can be evaluated are the standard scales.33 According to Laban, each standard
scale contains a series of shapes which are the basic elements of almost all
trace-forms employed in movement.34 In order to understand how the standard
scale can be mined to generate these shapes, it is necessary to investigate the
analogy of tonal interval and spatial interval in relation to the polygonal shapes
of choreutic rings and scales.

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Tonal Interval and Spatial Interval. If the moving body were to leave
vapor trails in the kinesphere, most of these movement traces would be
curvilinear. The curved nature of movement trace-forms was first recognized
by Leonardo da Vinci, who perceived the circle as the correct pattern of
movement for the human body, thereby fusing the theory of human proportion
with a theory of human movement.35 Laban refined Leonardos theory of
movement by substituting polygonal figures for circular ones. These manysided circles have a spatial rhythm; moreover, their angular corners can be
matched to the geometrical scaffolding of the Platonic solids that Laban uses
to define the kinesphere.
All regular polygons are constructed by dividing the circumference of the
circle into equal parts. For example, a circular clock face marks the hours by
dividing the circumference of the circle into twelve equal parts. A regular
dodecagon, or twelve-sided polygon, can be formed by linking adjacent points,
as shown in Figure 7-22a. These edges are called one-point links. Other shapes
will be generated by linking alternate points, as shown in Figure 7-22b. These
internal rays can be thought of as two-point links. A different shape will emerge
when every third point is linked, as shown in Figure 7-22c.

a) One point links

b) Two point links

c) Three point links

Figure 7-22. Different regular polygons can be generated from a circle

divided into 12 parts.
By now, the compositional principle is becoming evident: any interval can
be used to generate additional shapes by linking every other point, every third
point, every fourth point, etc. When direction symbols are substituted for the
numbers on the clock face, the order of one of Labans standard scales can be
recreated by correlating the starting point of the scale with the number 1 and
moving clockwise around the circle, as shown in Figure 7-23 (next page).

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The scale represented in Figure 7-23 is the one around the

diagonal axis.

Figure 7-23. Standard scale.

When every other point is linked, two hexagons (or six-rings) emerge, as shown
in Figure 7-24. These correspond to the axis and equator scales around the
diagonal axis.

Figure 7-24. Axis and equator scales.

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Linking every third point will generate the cardinal planes. Linking every
fourth point produces the polar triangles and transverse three rings associated
with this diagonal axis. Linking every fifth point creates a twelve-sided star.
The star shown in Figure 7-25 represents the left B-scale. (A similar star, shown
in Plate P, represents the right A-scale.) Finally, linking every sixth point
produces a set of intersecting lines that correspond with the planar diameters.

Figure 7-25. Left B scale.

As there are only six internal rays of the dodecagon, we have now exhausted
the number of regular forms that can be generated. Increasing the span of points
linked begins to replicate forms in retrograde order. So linking every seventh
point produces the twelve-sided star again, which is the left B-scale in
retrograde. Connecting every eighth point yields the polar and transverse threerings. Linking every ninth point produces the planes, and so on.
Choreutic Forms and Analogous Musical Forms. The distance between
signal points of the icosahedron can be thought of as spatial intervals that are
analogous to tonal intervals. Plate P shows one of Labans attempts to draw
these parallels. The outer circle depicts the chromatic scale. The inner star,
whose points are coded with letters, depicts the right A-scale, establishing
tonal correlations of the perfect fourth with its spatial intervals. Movement
analysts Pamela Schick and Carol Schouboe, working without access to Labans
unpublished drawings, have hypothesized similar musical correlations,36 as
shown in Figure 7-26.

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Relating Movement to Music

Standard Scale 1 interval The Chromatic Scale

Axis and Equator 2 intervals Major and Minor Seconds
Cardinal Planes 3 intervals Minor Third
Polar and Transverse Three-rings 4 intervals Major Thirds
Transverse A or B Scales 5 intervals Perfect Fourth or Fifths
Diameters 6 intervals Augmented Fourth or Diminished Fifth
Figure 7-26. Hypothesized Musical Correlations. Adapted from Schick and Schouboe.
The one relationship that Schick and Schouboe fail to point out is that the
axis and equator scales correspond to the two whole tone scales used in Western
music. This is a significant correlation, indicating that Laban sets an equivalency
of spatial interval within these two forms, even though the axis links are
transversals, and hence longer than the peripheral equator links. This means
that there is not a perfect correspondence between spatial distance and spatial
interval; the analogy Laban draws is one of ratio, not quantity. In any case, the
exact correspondences of tone and direction are of less consequence in Labans
model than the principles of pattern generation inherent in the concept of spatial
interval.
In terms of pattern, the particular choreutic forms identified by Laban are
all highly symmetrical. He has carefully kept the interval intact in each form,
rather than mixing intervals. Any number of other choreutic shapes could be
generated by using a simple process of transformation. The process is as follows:
from any corner of a polygon a continuous line is drawn, touching all other
vertices of the polygon before returning to the original corner. These circuits
may mix spatial intervals, thereby generating a variety of novel multi-sided
figures. For example, four different pentagonal forms and eleven different
hexagonal or six-sided shapes can be generated when mixed spatial intervals
are used, as shown in Figure 7-27. As the number of sides of the polygon

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increase, we notice a rapid increase in the permutations and many crossreferences that enable families of shapes to be found. 37
Labans sketches demonstrate his familiarity with this method of generating
polygonal figures (see Figure 2-9 in Chapter 2 and Plate D). He created very
few mixed rings, however. The most salient, from a harmonic point of view,
are the mixed seven-rings that are analogous to the diatonic scales.

Figure 7-27.
As internal rays increase, so do possibilities for shape generation.

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Mixed Seven-Rings and the Diatonic Scales

While the chromatic scale contains the twelve tempered semitones of
Western music, most compositions are based upon an abridged seven-note
sequence called a diatonic scale dia for through, and tonic in reference
to the scales first note, its tonal center. So diatonic scales consist of notes that
are harmonically closest to the scales first note.38 Unlike the chromatic scale,
which proceeds by even half-steps through the octave, the steps of a diatonic
scale are not all the same size.39 Diatonic scales are of two types, either major
or minor. The pattern of tonal interval in each type of scale is different. For
example, a major diatonic scale is made up of two tetrachords connected by a
whole tone. A tetrachord consists of two whole tones followed by a half tone.
A major diatonic scale follows the pattern shown below:
whole tone, whole tone, half-tone [whole tone] whole tone, whole tone, half tone

The octave is added at the end of the scale so that if you play the white keys
on the piano from C to C you will hear this series.40
A major scale can be centered around any of the seven tones designated by
the letters A, B, C, D, E, F, G. While C major has no sharps or flats, scales
centered on the other tones will have to add sharps or flats to sustain the tonal
pattern of whole tones and half-tones.
Constructing the Mixed Seven-Rings. To develop an analogous pattern in
terms of spatial intervals, Laban had to abandon the perfect symmetry of his
other choreutic forms and introduce sequences that use both transverse and
peripheral links. The mixed seven-rings are the sequences that Laban
constructed as analogue models of some of the diatonic scales. By doing this,
Laban was able to replicate the tonal pattern as a spatial pattern.
In Labans construction of the standard scale, the axis and equator scales
are both composed of whole tones intervals. To move from a point in the axis
to an adjacent point in the equator (or vice versa) introduces a half-step. This
correlation of tonal values allows Laban to replicate the tetrachordwhole tone
tetrachord pattern of major diatonic scales by combining segments of the
axis with sections of the equator. The pattern is as follows: three points of the
axis scale are linked to four points of the equator. The mixed seven-ring,
analogous to C major, is shown in Figure 7-28. This sequence connects the
first three signal points of the axis, tracing two transversals that are equivalent
to whole tones. Then the pattern shifts to the adjacent point in the equator to
create a peripheral half-step. This addition completes the first tetrachord. The

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sequence progresses to the next point along the equator, introducing a whole
tone link. The equator is followed around two more corners; these links are
equivalent to whole tones. The final link returns to the original starting point
of the axis, introducing the final half-step needed to complete the second
tetrachord of the scale.

Figure 7-28. Seven-ring analogous to C major scale.

Laban designed 24 mixed seven-rings. Six are clustered around each of
the cubic diagonals and drawn from the standard scale that belongs to that
diagonal. Each ring starts on the next point of the axis, and links to the next
point in the equator, as shown in Figure 7-29. It should be noted that the mixed
seven-rings designed by Laban correspond to only six of the twelve major
scalesthose with an even number of sharps or flats. These rings follow a
consistent pattern of transverse and peripheral links. It is also possible to develop
mixed seven-rings that are analogous to the major scales having an uneven
number of sharps or flats. These forms preserve the tetrachordwhole tone
tetrachord pattern, but introduce a different arrangement of transverse and

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peripheral links. Laban seems to have opted to keep the spatial pattern uniform
within the rings he designed, although this meant sacrificing a perfect musical
correspondence of forms.

Figure 7-29. Harmonic Progression of Two Seven-Rings.

Embodying the Mixed Seven-Rings. Laban seems to view the mixed sevenrings as a harmonic blending of the characteristics of the axis and equator. The
axis scale penetrates the kinesphere as it veers sharply up and down alongside
its diagonal axis. The equator encompasses kinespheric space as it gently girdles
the diagonal. In an unpublished treatise on space harmony, Laban relates the
character of the axis and equator respectively to the arabesque and attitude
maneuvers of ballet. His associations seem to have to do more with the spatial
characters of these forms than with specific motions of the legs. Laban
characterizes arabesques as typifying the straight penetration of space, while
attitudes show an all around enjoyment of several space directions.41
Moreover, the direct arabesque is rarely final, while the flexible attitude
invites a stop. These contrasting spatial characteristics lead Laban to ask,
which arabesques are easiest or most harmoniously linked to definite
attitudes?42 Laban qualifies harmonious in this instance as coordinations
which are more balanced and easier in their flow.43

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The rest of this unpublished treatise introduces the reader to 7 changes of

directions consisting of an arabesque, an attitude, and their preparations and
transitions.44 Laban describes this sequence as a circular chain, in which the
last (the seventh) link flows back into the first one. The 7 directions of the
circular chain however do not form a circle. The outline resembles an
asymmetrically shaped flower, say, an orchid.45
Laban goes on to walk the reader through an embodied experience of one
of these sequences. Since the asymmetrical chain links seven out of 12 points
of space surrounding the body, there are five points that are not occupied.46
Physical exploration begins by finding these non-occupied space points. This
is followed by intermediary exercises to find the seven points of the elementary
movement sequence.47 These points are located by simple weight shifts
stepping forward and backward, while the arms gesture simultaneously in
specified directions. Finally, Laban directs the reader through a choreographed
performance of this mixed seven-ring, with clear indications of weight shift,
use of arms and legs, and the degree of torso involvement. The arabesque form
is realized through a leg extension using the spatial points taken from the axis
scale, while the attitude is primarily a curved sweep along the path of the
equator led by the arm. There is a momentary pause at the end of the attitude,
in which the arm and torso curve toward back high while the right leg also
curls around in this direction. This pause is followed by a vigorous short step
of the right leg forward, accompanied by a quick reaching of the right arm
from back high to high right. From this point, the whole shape can be
immediately repeated.48
These archival traces demonstrate how carefully Laban worked through
the links from abstract spatial forms to embodied practices. The mixed sevenrings were rigorously constructed to be consistent with their analogous musical
forms at the structural level. In addition, there had to be a kind of body logic to
the spatial form that allowed it to be translated into a flowing movement
sequence. In the process of performing the sequence, the dancer had to be able
to sustain balance and coordination to achieve a unity of form. While the labile
spatial coordinates of the mixed seven-rings are challenging, the forms are
coherent. Laban appears to have carefully negotiated the relationship of theory
and practice in order to promote his concepts of movement harmony. His
unpublished draft on space harmony contains notes for additional content. These
include an outline for concluding remarks about the value of the knowledge
and training of harmonious sequences.49 Laban notes these values as including

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development of kinesthetic feeling and awareness of the significance of

movement, control of movement coordination, understanding of the rules of
dance composition, and enrichment of movement imagination.50
In addition, much of the treatise focuses on symmetry operations that are
embedded in the mixed seven-rings. The symmetry operations that Laban
explicates do not deal with the shape of the seven-ring itself he notes that
this is an asymmetrical form. Instead, Laban addresses how these forms may
be mirrored. One mirror operation has to do with transferring the pattern from
the right side to left side. In addition, Laban discusses the echo form that
arises when two dancers face: It must be imagined that one joins hands with
the facing partner and is guided by him to the double reverted sequence. The
result will be not left-right symmetrical, but back-forward symmetrical.51 He
goes on to note that the 24 mixed seven-rings (six around each of the four
diagonals) are all of exactly the same shape but they are transferred and inverted
into different space positions.52 In other words, Laban is outlining the harmonic
principle of transposition.
Transposition
In musical terms, transposition deals with moving a musical form while
maintaining the structural unity of the form. The form moved may be a scale,
a melody, or a chord. The movement may be one of pitch or of key. In the first
instance, the musical form may be transposed up or down in pitch. For example,
the C major scale may be played using the octave between middle C and high
C. Or the scale may be transposed an octave lower, so that the scale moves
between low C and middle C. The similarity of these two scales will be apparent
to the listener due to the phemomenon of octave equivalence. As Jourdain
explains, octaves are formed by doublings of frequencies. Middle C doubles
the frequency of low C, and high C doubles middle C. Whats interesting is
that we call all three notes C.53 He goes on to observe that octave equivalence
lets us transpose music up and down by octaves without changing key or
dramatically altering harmony.54
The second type of transposition involves moving a scalar sequence,
melodic contour, or chordal progression from one key to another. As Machlis
outlines, suppose a certain melody begins on G. If you felt that the song lay a
little too high for your voice, you might begin on F instead of G and shift all
the tones of the melody one step lower. Someone else might find that the song
was too low. That person could begin on A and sing each tone of the melody

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one step higher than it was written.55 This act of shifting all the tones of a
musical composition a uniform distance is another type of transposition. This
shift of tonal center will change the key of the composition, but the scalar
pattern and melodic and harmonic structure will retain its recognizable form.
Laban developed analogous approaches for moving choreutic forms from
one location in the icosahedron to another. In addition, he explored ways to
shift trace-forms from the kinespheric geography of the icosahedron to that of
the cube or octahedron. These methods of transposition are surveyed below.
Transposition through Symmetry Operations. Symmetry operations allow
shapes to be moved through space in certain orderly ways. In reflection, a
given shape is reversed to produce a mirror image. In rotation, the shape is
moved a certain number of times around an axis. In translation, the shape is
moved a set distance and repeated; while glide reflection combines the
movements of translation and reflection, moving a shape a constant distance
and also reversing it. Mathematicians refer to these symmetry operations as
utilizing rigid movements. What is meant by the term rigid is that the
shape itself cannot be altered as it is moved through space, for the shapes in
any symmetrical motif must be congruent.
The rigid movements of symmetry operations allowed Laban to transpose
choreutic forms from one area of the kinesphere to another without altering
the shape of the trace-form. Simple shapes, like peripheral or transverse threerings, can be transposed to another kinespheric zone through the symmetry
operations of translation, reflection, or glide reflection. More complex forms,
such as axis and equator scales, transverse twelve-rings, or standard scales
that are developed around a particular cubic diagonal, can be rotated to shift
the whole form to another diagonal axis. For example, in an unpublished
document Laban notes that the standard scales are established by 3 turns:
over the wheel, door, and table planes.56 In other words, by rotating the entire
trace-form, its mirror and echo forms may be found.
For example, a three-dimensional model of the standard scale around the
diagonal can be depicted by wrapping colored yarn around the edges of a
skeletal icosahedron. It is not necessary to unwrap this yarn and then restring it
to depict the mirror-version of the scale. A simple 180 degree somersault through
the sagittal plane will transpose the shape so that the standard scale around the
diagonal is revealed. Cartwheeling the icosahedron 180 degrees through the
vertical plane or spinning the form halfway around the horizontal plane will
transpose the standard scale trace-form to other diagonal orientations. This

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kind of rotational transposition allowed Laban to work out a choreutic form

around a single diagonal axis and then replicate its shape through other
orientations in the kinesphere. Archival traces demonstrate his awareness of
the procedure, for it seems that he often worked out a pattern around one
diagonal, without bothering to map the trace-form on all four diagonals.
Transpositions involving a change of key can be seen in the set of mixed
seven-rings situated around a single diagonal. Each of these seven-rings retains
a fundamental shape, but changes the coordinate points of its trace-form. Laban
actually depicted these transpositions in the series of drawings shown in Plate
C. These drawings also incorporate the transpositions of the associated mixed
five-rings that follow the icosahedral signal points that are excluded from the
seven-ring scales. Of course, Laban also employed rotation to transpose the
six-scale set of mixed seven-rings to the other diagonals axes of the icosahedron.
Transposition through Topological Manipulations. The rigid movements
of symmetry operations allowed Laban to transpose choreutic trace-forms in
various ways through the icosahedral geography of the kinesphere. It is not
possible, however, to transpose an icosahedral trace-form to the cube or
octahedron. Differences in the angles of the corners of these forms means that
a shape mapped in one geography cannot be superimposed on another
geography. In other words, the shapes of icosahedral trace-forms are not
congruent with the shapes of cubic or octahedral trace-forms. These shapes
can only be transposed if the shape itself is changed, so that the angles between
sides are made wider or more acute, the sides themselves made longer or shorter,
or the whole shape compressed, stretched, or twisted.
Laban discovered that if he wanted to shift choreutic forms from one
geometric geography to another, he had to go beyond the rigid movements of
symmetry, employing procedures that would allow the shapes themselves to
be altered. He found these procedures in the field of topology.
Topology may be thought of as a kind of geometry in that it studies
properties of shape and space, albeit in a fairly abstract way. As Barr elaborates,
a topologist is interested in those properties of a thing that, while they are in
a sense geometrical, are the most permanent the ones that will survive
distortion and stretching.57 For example, the roundness of a circle will not
survive stretching or distortion the property of roundness is not permanent.
As Barr explains, one can tie or glue the ends of a bit of string together and
make it into a circle, and, without cutting or disconnecting it, make it into a
square. But the fact that it has no ends remains unchanged.58

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A second permanent property of the circle can be illustrated as follows. If

numbered beads had been strung on the circular string, they would retain
their order even if we tied it in knots, or if we used elastic instead of string,
because we could alter the distance between the beads not their order.59
Thus topology replaces the rigid movements of symmetry operations with elastic
movements, allowing shapes to be stretched, twisted, pulled, and bent without
altering certain intrinsic properties. Rather than congruence, topological
manipulations explore the homeomorphism of shape, to see which intrinsic
properties are unchanged despite stretching, twisting, bending, etc. For example,
you can distort if you dont alter the way a figure is connected, and in the case
of a polygon, although you may smooth out the angles, you must retain the
vertices as points marked on it. 60 An example of this type of topological
distortion is shown in Figure 7-30.

Figure 7-30. Topological distortion of hexagon.

Topological manipulations introduced a whole new range of ways to play
with shape, and Laban applied these to the problem of transposing rhythmic
circles from one geometric geography to another. Figure 7-31 and Plate Q
show a twelve-sided circle traced around edges of an octahedron being stretched
and twisted to fit around the edges of an icosahedron. The two shapes Laban
depicts are homeomorphic. Both retain the property of being closed circuits.
Moreover, the vertices are retained as points marked on the circle. From the
movers perspective, this means that the order of directional changes has not
been altered, even though the exact spatial locations have been changed.

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Figure 7-31. Topological distortion of skeletal octahedron.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/17/16 NRCD.

Archival materials, such as those shown in Figures 7-32, 7-33, and 7-34,
indicate that Laban was exploring various forms of topological interest in the
final years of his career. These explorations included surfaces such as circular
bands (a two-sided curved surface), Moebius strips (a twisted band that has
only one surface), Klein bottles (a bottle with only one surface), knots, and
hypercubes (four-dimensional cubes). Labans own writings, both published
and unpublished, suggest that many of these explorations were inconclusive.
Nevertheless, this evidences a theoretical movement on Labans part from the
consideration of movement as line in three-dimensional space to its
conceptualization as a surface in multi-dimensional spaces.
If Laban was unable to develop these theoretical directions fully, his initial
topological explorations have enriched his movement taxonomy in various
ways. First, topological alteration of choreutic trace-forms allows a shape
mapped on the coordinates of one Platonic solid to be transposed to another.
These transpositions move beyond obvious congruity of shapes to illuminate
homeomorphic kinships. For example, Figures 7-35~37 show three six-rings
situated respectively in the octahedron, cube, and icosahedron. The last figure
will be familiar to readers as an axis scale. All three trace-forms are

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Figure 7-32.
Labans sketch of Klein bottle.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/14/34 NRCD.

Figure 7-33.
Labans sketch of a trefoil knot
inside a tetrahedron.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/15/36 NRCD.

Figure 7-34.
Labans sketch of a lemniscate
inside a hypercube.
Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/12/26 NRCD.

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homeomorphic. Transpositions such as this make it possible to organize clusters

of movement forms in an entirely new way, illuminating homeomorphic
relationships in movement patterning that extend beyond superficial
resemblances.

Figure 7-35. Octahedral six-ring.

Figure 7-36. Cubic six-ring.

Figure 7-37. Icosahedral six-ring.

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Body Transfer, Translation, and Size Scaling. Labans initial work on

topological transformation of trace-forms is not merely a taxonomical curiosity.
Rather, potentially heuristic connections to theories of motor control and spatial
cognition may be suggested. For example, experiments have been conducted
in which participants are asked to trace a shape in space in a variety of ways
such as drawing it with the right arm, the left leg, or the shoulder (body transfer);
tracing the shape in front of the body, to the side or on the floor (spatial
translation); and altering the size of the shape (size scaling). Participants found
these transformations equally simple to execute. This has suggested that the
engram for all these variations in performance must be similar.
Juhan defines the engram as a sensory record of a particular gesture or
series of gestures.61 Sensory engrams influence motor control in the following
way: When a person wishes to accomplish some act he begins by
remembering how it felt to do it. The motor systems are then set into motion to
reproduce the remembered sequence of sensations.62 Dancers sometimes refer
to this as muscle memory. Longstaff, however, notes that in the case of body
transfer, sizing, and translation of kinespheric forms, the body use can differ
greatly between different transformations. This suggests that the engram
guiding these transformations is based on the exterior spatial form rather
than muscle memory.63 Bernstein refers to this movement memory code as the
engram of a given topological class, noting that it is extremely geometrical,
representing a very abstract motor image of space.64 Thus, experiments in
body transfer, sizing, and translation of kinespheric forms suggest that the
apparatus for producing such movements may be based upon a cognitive
formulation of spatial form that is fundamentally topological in nature.
Harmony of Spatial Forms
Laban averred that between the harmonic life of music and that of dance
there is not only a superficial resemblance but a structural congruity.65 This
chapter has explored Labans observation by examining musical analogies
between tone, scale, interval, and transposition in the choreutic forms that
Laban developed. This examination has demonstrated how carefully Laban
embedded harmonic elements such as proportion, balance, symmetry, order,
kinship, and unity of form in choreutic sequences, while providing scope for
individual expression.
Labans choice of the icosahedron as the preferred map of the kinesphere
allowed him to draw analogies between the twelve corners of the cardinal

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planes and the twelve semitones of Western music. Laban elaborated on these
tonal relationships to generate movement sequences analogous to the chromatic,
whole tone, and diatonic scales, along with forms that parallel other significant
musical intervals. These movement scales and sequences achieve a structural
unity through Labans careful use of multiple symmetry operations. Movement
in one direction are always balanced by movement in the opposite direction.
An orderly progression from plane to plane is established so that each scale
sweeps through the kinesphere in a series of clockwise and counter-clockwise
curves or moves to and fro in retrograde trajectories.
Beyond balanced symmetry, families of harmonic forms emerge, extending
the taxonomy of kinesthetic space. For example, scales can be clustered by
type, such as the four axis scales, the eight polar triangles, the four A and B
scales, etc. Alternatively, the different types of choreutic forms that evolve
around one diagonal can be grouped together. This grouping, based on intervals
of a standard scale, reveals a different type of kinship. Choreutic forms may
also be categorized in terms of kinesthetic characteristics. For example, the
transverse axis scales as well as the A and B scales have a penetrating character,
while the peripheral equators and standard scales encompass and surround. In
addition, transposition of polygonal rhythmic circles from the icosahedron
to the octahedron and cube reveal topological kinships that extend beyond
superficial similarities.
The harmonic elements of unity of form and individuality emerge from
how these abstract geometrical sequences are translated into physical practice.
Unpublished materials demonstrate that Laban was capable of prescribing a
manner of embodiment in great detail. In his published work, however, spatial
forms are simply listed with brief instructions on their bodily performance
or presented as abstract spatial models without any explicit connection to human
body movement.66 When brief instructions are provided, these generally
delineate the side of the body that is to lead the sequence. This has led to a
conventional style of embodiment that emphasizes whole body actions. In this
style, the leading arm traces the prescribed pathways in a swinging motion so
that the trace-form seems to oscillate around the center of the kinesphere, which
is identified with the navel center of the movers body. Unity of form is achieved
either through symmetrical countertensions in the limbs or by a congruent
graining of the body toward the dominant directions of the trace-form,
supported by a matching weight shifts.

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While the oral transmission of choreutic forms has preserved a particular

style of embodiment, Laban wrote that it is useful from many points of view
to omit entirely all precise instructions as to bodily execution and dynamic
intentions.67 Laban was aware that expressive movements in dance are not
bound to definite and equilibrated spatial harmonies. He adds that for a great
number of modern dancers [spatial] inclinations have a kind of individuality
and they use them, mostly intuitively, with remarkable freedom.68 These
remarks suggest that while unity of form remains an essential ingredient of
harmonious movement, Laban does not conflate unity with any particular style
or canon of beauty.
A close examination of choreutic forms demonstrates how Laban extended
the analogic metaphor of musical harmony to spatial design in dance. The
consistency with which harmonic elements are embedded in the forms, however,
invites a question: are these forms discovered or invented? The rigorous
coherence of these movement sequences suggests the latter view, while Labans
own assertions regarding the empirical foundation of his work support the
former interpretation. Is there really a natural harmony that governs the spatial
unfolding of human movement?
Stravinskys remarks regarding musical harmony provide an angle of
approach to this question. He begins with a banal example of the pleasure one
may experience upon hearing natural sounds such as the murmur of a brook or
birdsong. While such sounds may be music to ones ears, Stravinsky
acknowledges, it is not yet music. Such sounds are merely
promises of music; it takes a human being to keep them: a human
being who is sensitive to natures many voices, of course, but who in
addition feels the need of putting them in order and who is gifted for
that task with a very special aptitude. In his hands all that I have
considered as not being music will become music. From this I conclude
that tonal elements become music only by virtue of their being
organized, and that such organization presupposes a conscious human
act.69
Stravinskys comments suggest that musical harmony is neither discovered
nor invented; harmony is both discovered and invented. Music has as its referent
natural sounds that are pleasing, and these sounds must be consciously ordered
to become truly musical. The same observation would seem to apply to space

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harmony. Laban based his theory on natural referents, on empirical observations

of spatial emplacements of the body and the natural sequential unfolding of
dance and movement forms. He also imposed a coherent organization on what
he observed. This interpretation is consistent with what is known about Laban
as a naturalistic artist-researcher: he shifted between real life observations of
movement in the field and theoretical formulations of these empirical data at a
more abstract level. In this sense, choreutic harmony was both discovered and
invented.
Spatial form is only one part of Labans theory of movement harmony,
however. Before further discussion of the whole theory can take place, it is
necessary to explicate other aspects of Labans theoretical enterprise. Thus
discussion now turns to dimensions of effort harmony.

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Notes
11. Choreutics was published posthumously in 1966. The American version
came out in 1974, under the title The Language of Movement.
12. In mathematical terms, a simple path that uses every edge of a graph and
begins and ends at the same corner is known as an Euler circuit. A
Hamiltonian circuit visits every corner of a graph exactly once and ends
at the same corner where it began. These types of paths were named after
the mathematicians who discovered them. Puzzles based on these types of
networks were popular mathematical games at the end of the 19th century,
and this may be how Laban became familiar with them.
13. Maletic, Body Space Expression, 88.
14. Laban, Choreographie, Longstaff, ed., 12.
15. Preston-Dunlop, Choreutics, 142; Newlove and Dalby, Laban for All.
16. Preston-Dunlop, Point of Departure; Forsythe, Improvisational
Technologies.
17. Laban, Language of Movement, 80.
18. Laban, cited in Maletic, Body Space Expression, 69.
19. Ibid.
10. Laban, Language of Movement, 80-81.
11. Ibid.
12. Longstaff, editors notes in Choreographie, 40.
13. Laban, Language of Movement, 70.
14. Ibid.
15. Although the longer sides of the cardinal planes are internal rays of the
icosahedron, they are not considered to be transversals due to the fact that
they lie in one plane. True transversals are internal rays that connect the
corner of one plane to the corner of another plane by passing through the
third plane. Consequently, these oblique lines follow three-dimensional
trajectories through the kinesphere.
16. The tilted planes are perpendicular to one another, although each is out of
plumb.
17. Vandenbroeck, Philosophical Geometry, 22.
18. Ibid.
19. Jourdain, Music, Brain, and Ecstasy, 93.
20. Holst, ABC of Music, 2.
21. Ibid.
22. Jourdain, Music, Brain, and Ecstasy, 71.

260

23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.

29.

30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.
38.
39.
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.
45.
46.
47.
48.
49.

Ibid., 69-70.
Ibid., 70.
Ibid., 72.
Holst, ABC of Music, 97.
Laban, Language of Movement, 117.
Preston-Dunlop, Point of Departure. These additional twelve-rings include
six that are oriented around diametral axes as well as four twisted standard
(or primary) scales around diagonal axes.
Laban, Language of Movement, 71. In fact, Laban introduces the standard
scale by using a cuboctahedral scaffolding of the kinesphere. The 14-sided
cuboctahedron is a semi-regular solid that combines the six square faces
from the cube with the eight triangular faces of the octahedron. This form
has 12 corners, like the icosahedron, but the cuboctahedron has only 24
edges (rather than 30). Its missing edges correspond to the short sides of
the cardinal planes of the icosahedron, thereby neatly eliminating these
peripherals as possible paths for the standard scale.
Dell, Space Harmony, 4.
Jourdain, Music, Brain, and Ecstasy, 66.
Ibid., 78.
Laban, Language of Movement, 82.
Ibid., 72.
Panofsky, Meaning in Visual Arts, 97.
Schouboe and Schick, manuscript, authors collection, 1996.
Albarn et al, Language of Pattern, 58.
Jourdain, Music, Brain, and Ecstasy, 71.
Holst, ABC of Music, 4.
Machlis, Enjoyment of Music, 179.
Laban, Space Harmony of Human Movement, E/L/38/27, I, Laban
Archive, NRCD.
Ibid., II-IIa.
Ibid., Ia
Ibid., III, IIa.
Ibid., III.
Ibid., Va-VI.
Ibid., VIIa.
Ibid., XIa.
Ibid., XIIa.

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50.
51.
52.
53.
54.
55.
56.
57.
58.
59.
60.
61.
62.
63.
64.
65.
66.
67.
68.
69.

Ibid.
Ibid., Va.
Ibid.
Jourdain, Music, Brain, and Ecstasy, 67.
Ibid.
Machlis, Enjoyment of Music, 181.
Laban, manuscript, E(L)/4/67, Laban Archive, NRCD.
Barr, Experiments in Topology, 2-3.
Ibid., 3.
Ibid.
Ibid., 12.
Juhan, Jobs Body, 266.
Ibid.
Longstaff, Cognitive Structures, 144.
Bernstein, cited in Longstaff, Cognitive Structures, 144.
Laban, Language of Movement, 117.
Longstaff, Cognitive Structures, 19.
Laban, Language of Movement, 111.
Ibid., 125-126.
Stravinsky, Poetics of Music, 23.

CHAPTER 8

Modulation and Harmonic Phrasing

In his investigations of the movement from mood to mood, Laban noted
that the sequences of emotions have a perceptible flow in which certain
harmonic unfoldings can be noticed.1 This chapter elaborates on Labans ideas
of the harmonic unfolding of effort mood by extending the analogic metaphor
of harmony to incorporate notions of modulation. Discussion begins with a
brief review of the law of proximity and how this eukinetic concept is
analogous to modulation from key to key in music. This is followed by
examination of three rhythmic circles that Laban developed as models of effort
modulation and phrasing. The first model to be discussed is a symmetrical
eighteen-link ring mapped on the cube. This model primarily addresses
modulated patterning of action moods, although an adaptation for modeling
modulation for the other drives is demonstrated. In addition, reference is made
to the cubic model of effort states and drives, introduced in Chapter 5; this
model of kinship can also be used to develop modulated effort sequences of
broad dynamic range.
Two additional standard scales of the dynamosphere are explicated. These
include an asymmetrical nine-ring that Laban called a knot, and another
asymmetrical six-ring that Laban referred to as a twisted circle.2 Labans
preliminary explorations of lemniscates (Moebius strips) and hypercubes (fourdimensional cubes) are also examined. The chapter closes with reflection on
the seemingly paradoxical description of these effort patterns as spatial forms.
Musical Modulation and the Law of Proximity
Western musical compositions are written in a particular key. Key in this
context refers to the scale upon which the prevailing harmony is constructed.3
For example, a ballad written in the key of C major mostly employs the notes
of the C major scale, with special emphasis on the harmonically dominant
notes of that scale.4 As Jourdain explains, the first note of a scale is not the
only one that is harmonically important. A scales fifth note (the octave
midpoint) also exerts a strong pull, as do the third and fourth notes.5 Harmony

264

is based upon combinations of simultaneous tones. One combination that sounds

particularly consonant is the triad consisting of the first, third, and fifth notes
of the prevailing scale.6 The C major triad, or C major chord, consists of C-EG and reflects the structure of the overtone series. When C is played as the
tonal center of a C-major scale, its overtones include the C above, then G, then
C again, then E, then another G, and yet another C. And so you have the notes
of the triad.7
In lengthy musical works, composers often develop the composition by
introducing changes in key. The movement from one key to another is called
modulation.8 Shifts in key are governed by laws of harmony in the following
sense. Certain keys have more tones in common than others. For example, the
dominant tone in the C major scale is G. This dominant note becomes the
tonic, or first note, of the G major scale, which shares six tones with C major,
differing only in one note. Consequently, modulation from C major to G major
is a gradual shift in tonality that makes sense to the listener. As Jourdain
elaborates, our minds step among tonal centers just as they step among scale
tones in a melody, deriving a comparable pleasure.9 On the other hand, once
a tonal center and its system of triads have been established, music can travel
in many directions along a vast web of permissible transitions from chord to
chord. But relatively few chord progressions work very well.10 Consequently,
it behooves composers to be familiar with the vocabulary of common
progressions that are standard in Western music, for these musical clichs
can be employed both to satisfy and surprise.11
As discussed in Chapter 5, Laban detected a law of proximity that affects
the harmonic unfolding of effort moods. According to his observation it is
relatively easy to transition between moods that have effort qualities in common.
For example,
the transition from a pressing movement to a wringing movement
can be easily performed without a perceptible break, but it is impossible
to make an equally smooth transition from a pressing to a slashing
movement. However, the transition from wringing to slashing, or vice
versa, is easily done. Thus we see that there are certain action-moods
which are closely related to each other, and that some are loosely linked,
whilst others are diametrically opposed.12
This observation leads Laban to conclude that a bodily feeling for
harmonious movement does not permit immediate transition between distant

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action moods.13 The shift between effort moods makes sense when these moods
have elements in common. Thus it may be said that the law of proximity is to
effort phrasing what modulation is to tonality.
A Graphic Model of Proximity for Action Moods. Musicians have
developed a model known as the Circle of Fifths that represents key signatures
for all the major and minor diatonic scales in terms of their number of sharps
and flats. The positioning of keys around this circle also provides information
about relationships between keys, for keys that share tones are closer to one
another while those whose tones are more contrasting are positioned further
around or across the circle from one another. Key signatures are seen as an
important part of the grammar of music, according to Holst. When these are
learned by sound and feel . . . it becomes possible to understand what happens
when a piece of music moves away from its own key and enters another key.14
In other words, the Circle of Fifths provides a graphic model for understanding
harmonic principles of modulation.
It will be recalled that Laban developed a similar device for representing
relationships between Action Drive combinations. This model, which was
introduced in Chapter 5, associates action moods with particular corners of a
cube, as shown below. Effort combinations that differ in all three qualities
(e.g., float and punch) are placed at opposite corners of the cube. In Labans
view, it is not possible to transition immediately between these moods. Action
moods differing in two qualities while sharing one (e.g., glide and punch) are
positioned at opposite corners of a face of the cube. Although these moods
have more elements in common, a seamless transition can be difficult. Finally,
action moods differing in only one quality while sharing two (e.g., glide and
float) are located at opposite ends of an edge of the cube. These effort
combinations are positioned the closest to one another, and modulation between
these moods is easy to accomplish spontaneously.

Figure 8-1. Cubic model

of Action Drive kinships.

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Mapping Modulations of Action Moods. As Jourdain noted above, music

can travel in many directions along a vast web of permissible transitions from
chord to chord. But relatively few chord progressions work very well.15 Labans
effort cube can be thought of as a kind of graph representing a vast web or
network of permissible effort transitions, while his law of proximity suggests
that only some of these will work well. In his search for workable transitions,
Laban resorted to mapping rings on this cubic graph. The aim was to move
between the completely contrasting action moods situated at opposite corners
of the cube by traveling only along edges of the cube. This type of progression
would ensure that the shift in mood was modulated by changing only one effort
quality at a time.
Labans rough draft of this pattern of modulated effort change is shown in
Figure 8-2. The reader will note the similarity to other rhythmic circles and
scales that Laban created in relation to studying choreutic forms. However,
this eukinetic pattern is neither an Euler circuit nor a Hamiltonian one. This is
because two corners of the cube are touched three times each, while edges are
traced more than once. In fact, it is this pattern of repetition that provides the
key to the meaning of this model.

Figure 8-2. Labans working notes on modulation.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/6/62 NRCD.

267

A finished drawing of the modulated shift between a floating action and a

punching action is shown in Figure 8-3.16 This depicts an eighteen-link circuit
that moves along three edges of each of the six faces of the cube, returning to
its original starting point.

Figure 8-3. Finished drawing

of 18-er (float-punch).
Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/53/2 NRCD.

Laban developed this model by employing symmetry operations. Starting

at the right forward low corner, the eighteen-ring circuits the front face of the
cube, the left wall, and the top wall, then reverses direction and circuits the
back wall of the cube, the right face, and the bottom surface, returning to the
starting point. This process is illustrated in Figures 8-4 and 8-5.

Figure 8-4. Symmetry operations, first half of 18-er.

Figure 8-5. Symmetry operations, second half of 18-er.

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Although Laban uses symmetry, this three-dimensional model does not

represent movement through a cubic geography of the kinesphere, for literal
spatial pathways are not being depicted here. Rather, this is a formal eukinetic
pattern representing a balanced oscillation between the contrasting moods of
floating and punching. This becomes obvious when the model is translated
into a series of effort phrases, for, as Laban notes, between one action-mood
and its extreme contrast there are six possible series of connection.17
One set of six phrases in the float punch oscillation are shown below.
From Float to Punch
1) float glide press punch

//

From Punch to Float

2) punch dab glide float

3) float flick dab punch

//

4) punch slash flick float

5) float wring slash punch

//

6) punch press wring float

Laban writes that the other three pairs of contrasting action-moods (gliding
slashing, dabbingwringing, and flickingpressing) have similar series of
connection In these sequences are found all natural links which arise in the
bodily execution of simple dynamic action-moods.18 These natural sequences
are not elaborated in Labans writings. But once the principles of symmetrical
construction are understood, three other patterns of effort modulation may be
worked out. For example, the diagram shown in Figure 8-6 maps one of the
modulated oscillations between the contrasting moods of flicking and pressing.

Figure 8-6. 18-er showing modulated phrasing, flickpress.

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One set of six modulated effort phrases in the flick press oscillation are
shown below.
From Flick to Press
1 ) flick dab glide press

//

From Press to Flick

2) press punch dab flick

3) flick slash punch press

//

4) press wring slash flick

5) flick float wring press

//

6) press glide float flick

It may be surmised that Laban views this rhythmic and symmetrical

fluctuation between contrasting moods as a model of effort harmony. The energy
oscillates freely in a balanced manner, rather than getting stuck at one polar
mood or the other. Moreover, the process of change is gradual, as a fighting
quality replaces an indulging quality (or vice versa) one motion factor at a
time. Modulated change would also appear to be a hallmark of effort harmony,
for as Laban notes, the chemistry of effort follows certain rules, because the
transitions from one effort quality to another are either easy or difficult. In
ordinary circumstances, no sane person will ever jump from one quality to its
complete contrast because of the great mental and nervous strain involved in
so radical a change.19
Mapping Modulations for Other Moods. Phrases of modulated change
can also be found for the Passion, Vision, and Spell Drives by adapting the
effort cube and its Action Drive correlations. Laban declares that
each one of the basic actions can, through change in its speed, or its
degree of strength, or the curvature of its path, be modified more and
more until it finally becomes one of the other basic actions. This change
can be compared with the grading one into another of the colours in a
rainbow. As the many shades of colour can be understood as transitions
or mixtures of the basic colours of the spectrum, so also can the great
variety of actions observed in our movement be considered and
explained as transitions or mixtures of basic actions.20
The first step to finding these transitions is establishing a model of proximity
for each of the other three drives using the cube. For example, there are eight
configurations of Passion Drive combining the motion factors of weight, time,
and flow. These eight configurations can be arrayed on a cubic model to depict
their kinship by following the pattern established by Labans arrangement of
action moods. The logical way to do this is to replace the fighting and indulging

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qualities of space found in Action Drive combinations with the fighting and
indulging qualities of flow found in Passion Drive configurations. Qualities of
weight and time common to both drives remain the same. For example, the
Action Drive configuration of floating combines the indulging effort qualities
of decreasing pressure, decelerating, and indirecting. The Passion Drive
corollary of floating combines the indulging effort qualities of decreasing
pressure, decelerating, and free flow (the weight and time qualities stay the
same, while free flow replaces indirecting). Thus this Passion Drive
configuration would take the position of the action mood of floating on the
cubic model. In this way, all eight Passion Drive combinations can be situated
on the cubic model so as to represent their degrees of kinship, as shown in
Figure 8-7.
bound, light, sustained

free, light, sustained

bound, light, sudden

free, light, sudden

bound, strong, sustained

free, strong, sustained
free, strong, sudden
bound, strong, sudden

Figure 8-7. Cubic model of Passion Drive kinships.

Once a model of kinship has been established, it is possible to map patterns
of modulated change by following the same principles of symmetrical
construction that have been described in relation to the Action Drive. Since
each drive has four sets of contrasting moods, there are four different eighteenlink rings for each drive, each representing a network of modulated effort
phrases. Each 18-er in the cube provides a systematic way to study and
embody nuanced transitions between combinations of fighting and indulging
effort qualities within a given drive. Such study has heuristic implications, for
Laban explains that the fighting against or indulging attitude toward a motion
factor forms the basic aspects of the psychological attitudes of hatred and love.
So it is useful if the artist realizes how these two poles of emotion are related
to other forms of inner attitude, and how their relationship is mirrored in the

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movements of different characters.21 His aim, it seems, is to support movementthinking. This kind of thinking does not, as thinking in words does, serve
orientation in the external world, but rather it perfects mans orientation in his
inner world in which impulses continually surge and seek an outlet in doing,
acting and dancing.22
Labans mapping of the landscapes in this inner world begins with action
moods and their patterns of fluctuating change. But, he observes, anybody
can start with any of the basic action moods, whether it is habitual to him or
not. He can then with greater or less effort mobility run through whatever
scale of moods he likes, or which outer circumstances compel him to assume.23
This scale of moods introduces shifts between states and drives, necessitating
new models.
Modeling Harmonic Phrasing for Other States and Drives
In addition to patterns of harmonic effort phrasing discussed above, the
cubic model of the states and drives introduced in Chapter 5 provides another
model of kinship that can be mined to delineate patterns of modulated effort
change. As the reader may recall, in this model Laban has situated the four
effort drives at four corners of the cube (Figure 5-8). The motion factor that is
latent in each drive is placed diagonally opposite the drive, indicating extreme
contrast. Each of the six effort states is positioned on a face of the cube, between
the two motion factors that make up the state and between the two drives that
the state has in common (Figures 5-10 and 5-11). Labans fanciful drawing of
this model is shown in Figure 8-8. Here the effort network is rendered as a
cubic arrangement of stylized flowers, petals, and stems, augmented with
notations for the drives, states, and motion factors.

Figure 8-8. Fanciful rendering

of proximity of states and drives.
Rudolf Laban Archives L/E/17/48 NRCD.

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Laban did not go on to develop rhythmic circles based upon this cubic
model. However, if his three-dimensional model is simplified and reduced to a
two-dimensional square, a road map may be derived illustrating how the
states link with each other and with each of the drives. (See Figure 8-9.) This
map makes it possible to modulate from one drive to another by finding the
state they have in common. For example, it is possible to shift from a passionate
mood to a more practical one by concentrating on the rhythmic weight/time
combinations of the near state that link the Passion Drive to the Action Drive
(see Figures 5-4 and 5-6).

Figure 8-9. Relationship of states and drives.

This map of effort networks also indicates possible ways to shift between
contrasting states. For example, a dream state (weight and flow) can be
modulated into the contrasting awake state (space and time) by changing one
motion factor at a time. There are four possible transitions:
dream (weight/flow) mobile (flow/time) awake (time/space)
dream (flow/weight) near (weight/time) awake (time/space)
dream (weight/flow) remote (flow/space) awake (space/time)
dream (flow/weight) stable (weight/space) awake (space/time)

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There are many more variations if the mover is diverted into another state or
effort drive along the way.
The various 18-ers in the cube as well as the cubic model of the states
and drives are Labans attempt to discern ordering principles that govern the
movement from mood to mood. The patterns he delineates draw upon notions
of balanced oscillation. Since movement harmony rests upon a full range of
effort expression, access to each indulging quality must be matched by access
to the opposite fighting quality. Organic transitions between different moods
are determined by the kinship of eukinetic elements. Laban noted that
experience proves that extreme contrasts of dynamic actions cannot be
performed by the body immediately one after the other.24 However, effort
balance can be achieved by finding the appropriate modulations in dynamic
expression within a given mood and across a range of states and drives.
Stability and Mobility in Effort Phrasing
While the eighteen-ring in the cube represents a model of balanced
oscillation between contrasting dynamic moods, Laban developed two other
prototypic eukinetic sequences knots and twisted circles. In investigating
the secondary movements which in fact are muscular tensions and which
produce the dynamic variations of speed, force and directional flux, Laban
notes, we find two interesting sequences which are based on two contrasting
actions used in almost every activity.25 He characterizes these actions as tying
and untying: the untying or untwisting, which is to separate, and the contrary,
the tying or twisting into a knot, which means to unite, both lead to completely
different inner and outer attitudes.26 For example, a circle can be twisted into
a figure eight and then untwisted. On the other hand, a knot in the circle of
string cannot be untwisted as long as the circle remains uncut.27
Laban goes on to observe that our movement sometimes traces circles
which can easily be transformed into the shape of the figure eight and other
twisted shapes. At other times they are knotted, so to speak, and can be
transmuted into other lines only after being cut by a complete stop and by a
new impulse. Here we have examples of discontinued or interrupted
movements.28 Laban depicts both the prototypic knot and the twisted circle as
kinespheric trace-forms, although later he describes these as eukinetic forms
belonging to the dynamosphere. Therefore, each rhythmic circle will be
discussed initially as a formal shape with reference to an icosahedral scaffolding,

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and then transposed to the cubic model of the dynamosphere and discussed as
an effort pattern.
Knots. Knots are described in Labans posthumously published work, The
Language of Movement. This discussion is by no means transparent, and perhaps
for this reason, knots are seldom taught as a part of the oral tradition of Labans
work. What follows is the authors interpretation of knots. This begins with an
examination of Labans description of knots. He observes that in moving
inwards towards the centre of our body we follow trace-forms which resemble
knots,29 and relates knotting with qualities of meeting and uniting, and
consequently with stability. His description of a knot form is couched entirely
in spatial terms, using the planar direction symbols related to the icosahedron
to map its trajectory. For some reason, Laban simplifies the icosahedron into a
three-level scaffolding, as shown below.
The particular knot depicted, which is centered around the diagonal , is
a mixed nine-ring composed of three transverse and six peripheral lines. The
three tilted planes associated with this diagonal axis provide much of the
scaffolding of the knot. One transversal and adjacent peripheral edge from
each tilted plane is used. Because these six edges of the tilted planes are
perpendicular to each other, Laban notes that they have a tendency towards
stability.30

Figure 8-10. Transverse and

peripheral edges of tilted
planes used in a knot.
The remaining peripheral links are taken from the equator around this
diagonal, as shown in Figure 8-11. Laban observes that these equator links are
perpendicular to the peripheral edges of the tilted planes, thus reinforcing
stability.31

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Figure 8-11. Peripheral edges

of equator used in the knot.
While the knot evolves around a diagonal, it is oriented toward one end of
this axis. In the example Laban describes, the knot is oriented toward the lower
end of the diagonal. All three transversals of the tilted planes lie to one side of
the equator that girdles the diagonal. The points of the polar triangle surrounding
the upper end of the axial diagonal are not touched by the knot form.
Consequently, Laban characterizes the knot form as being basket-like; that is,
woven around one end of the diagonal and opening towards the other end, as
seen in Figure 8-12. He goes on to explain that the chain of the knot can be
followed in a clockwise as well as in a counter-clockwise direction.32 (The
notated sequence in Figure 8-12 moves counter-clockwise.) In either case, the
chain cannot be untwisted as long as the circle is not cut by an interruption of
movement.33

Figure 8-12. The complete knot.

Start

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The looping pattern of this nine-ring creates a trefoil knot. If the threedimensional trace-form were flattened, a looped form would be seen whose
lines cross other lines six times before returning to the point of origin. The
crossings alternate, going under then over, or vice versa, depending upon the
direction of motion, as shown in Figure 8-13.

Figure 8-13. Trefoil knot.

Laban describes this knot in spatial terms, using planar symbols related to
the icosahedron to map its form. Nevertheless, he refers to these nine-rings as
one form of the standard scale of the dynamosphere.34 This remark suggests
that knots are dynamospheric forms analogous to the standard scales of the
kinesphere. Unlike the standard scale of the kinesphere that shares this flick/
press diagonal axis, the knot form touches only nine of the twelve corners of
the icosahedron. It avoids the corners that make up the polar triangle around
the upper end of its diagonal axis. Thus it seems to be asymmetrically knotted
around the lower end of the diagonal, while it opens out in the opposite direction,
avoiding all the planar points that are closest to the upper end of the diagonal.
This provides a clue as to its character as a dynamospheric form.
To understand this character, the knot can be topologically manipulated to
fit in a cube. First, the outer loops are pulled away from one another to tighten
the center, as shown in Figure 8-14a. Since each loop of the deformed knot
consists of two peripherals and one transversal, these loops can be manipulated
to become right triangles, with the two peripheral edges forming a 90 degree
angle while the transversal becomes the oblique hypotenuse, as shown in Figure
8-14b.

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Figure 8-14a. Tightened knot.

Figure 8-14b. Deformed knot.

Now the knot can be transposed onto a cubic model of the dynamosphere. The
tight center is positioned at the corner of the cube that corresponds with the
lower end of the knots diagonal axis (press), while the three triangular loops
are aligned with the walls of cube that meet at that corner, as shown in Figure
8-15. This positioning means that the loops are perpendicular to one another.
Peripheral edges of each loop are aligned with edges of the cube, while each
transversal is made to conform respectively to an oblique line across the front,
left, and bottom walls of the cube. The knot never touches the corner (flick) at
the upper end of its diagonal axis. On the other hand, it keeps circling back to
the corner (press) at the lower end of the diagonal.

Figure 8-15.
Deformed knot
transposed onto
cube.

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When the Action Drive combinations associated with the corners of the
cube are considered, the knotted sequence centers around a pressing mood.
Each loop moves away from this mood, but then returns to it, as shown in the
series of effort phrases below.
press float glide press slash wring press dab punchpress
When viewed in this way, the nine-link knot can be interpreted as a
dynamospheric form that relates to the eighteen-link circuit shown in Figure
8-6. The eighteen-link circuit oscillates between the contrasting moods of press
and flick, shifting from mood to mood in a balanced pattern of gradual change.
The nine-link knot is simply half of this pattern. Unlike the 18-er, however,
the nine-link knot keeps returning to one effort combination (press), without
ever shifting to the opposite combination (flick).
The key to understanding the knot as a dynamospheric form is to remember
that knots are binding. Thus, in the knot which Laban identifies, the dynamic
progression from mood to mood keeps spiraling back to the same mood. It is
as if the mover is unable to shift out of this pressing mood effectively.
Consequently, there is a lack of effort balance. Perhaps this is why Laban
notes that knotted movements may be seen in the movement behavior of the
mentally ill.35
Twisted Circles. The twisted circle is a six-link mixed ring that has been
twisted into a three-dimensional figure 8. Laban relates this form to the
beginning of a movement that is initiated by a twisted contraction from which
it flows outward in an untwisting, opening movement.36 Unlike the knot, this
circle can be untwisted without cutting and so, according to Laban, it has the
possibility of evolving continuously in ever-new shapes. This freedom to
evolve gives the twist its mobility.37
The twisted circle contains the same three transversals used in the knot,
but mixes in three different peripheral links. Like the knot to which it is related,
the simple twist still touches the three points of the polar triangle around the
lower end of its diagonal axis, while avoiding the polar triangle points around
the upper end of this diagonal. Like the knot, the twisted circle is an
asymmetrical form, as shown in Figure 8-16.
If the twisted circle is transposed to the cube, the transversals become
diagonals, while the peripheral lines shift to the edges of the cube. Transformed

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in this way, the twisted circle avoids touching both corners that mark the
diagonal axis, as shown in Figure 8-17.

Figure 8-16. Twisted circle.

axis

Figure 8-17. Twisted

circle transposed
onto cube.

When this pattern is translated into action moods, the following effort
sequence emerges:
punch float wring dab glide slash punch
With the twisted circuit, Laban introduces yet a third effort pattern. The
eighteen-link ring oscillates between flicking and pressing, repeating each of
these moods three times. In contrast, the nine-link knot repeatedly shifts away
from pressing, but inevitably returns to this seemingly inescapable mood. This
knotted effort sequence never achieves a balanced oscillation to the contrasting
mood of flicking. The knot shows a restriction of evolution.38 On the other

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hand, the six-link twisted circle shifts between contrasting and closely related
moods, avoiding the axial moods of flicking and pressing altogether. In Labans
view, this last pattern has the freedom to evolve.39 Perhaps because movements
are not bound to a particular corridor of action, there is greater latitude for a
variety of moods to crystallize.
Exploring Other Models of the Dynamosphere
Much of Labans research work can be seen as a relentless search for
suitable ways to perceive, describe, and think about the ineffable experience
of movement. He characterizes movement-thinking as a gathering of
impressions of happenings in ones own mind, for which nomenclature is
lacking.40 He further notes that man has been unable to find the connection
between his movement-thinking and his word-thinking.41 Consequently, he
conceives the contemporary challenge to be one of finding ways and means
to penetrate into the mental side of effort and action so that the common
thread of the two kinds of thinking can finally be re-integrated in a new form.42
Laban was tireless in his own explorations of new forms that might serve
as useful vehicles for conveying ideas about the kinesphere, the dynamosphere,
and the harmonic interpenetration of these two domains. These efforts led to
theoretical excursions into hyperspace and engagement with non-Euclidean
shapes. Two of these excursions are discussed below.
Lemniscates. A number of drawings and fragmentary writings about
lemniscates in both German and English are found among unpublished papers
dating from the final two decades of Labans career. In Labans published
works, references to lemniscates appear primarily in The Language of
Movement. What he writes about these twisted bands is far from transparent.
As is the case with knots and twisted circles, Laban describes lemniscates in
spatial terms, while indicating that these twisted bands have a relation to effort.
The exact nature of this relationship is never spelled out clearly.
The following points may be surmised, nevertheless. Laban appears to
have experimented with lemniscates in two ways: (1) in relation to an
exploration of movement as surface and, (2) as a symbolic form representing
the unity of effort and space.
In first instance, Laban wrote that the observation of the pathway remains
very primitive if it is described as a line. Several important features as for
instance, twists cannot be expressed in this way. The description of the
pathway as a surface, a band, or a bulging hollow is more adequate to the

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natural feel of movement.43 In this unpublished paper, Laban gives the example
of tracing a figure 8 in two ways. First, one can trace this pattern as if drawing
a figure 8 with a piece of chalk on a chalk board. In this instance the limb
remains on one side of the band.44 Alternatively, one could trace the shape so
that the palm slides over one curve, then the lower arm and wrist twist so that
the back of the hand traces over the next curve. Laban appears to view this
type of movement as tracing a twisted band, or a lemniscatic surface. It is
possible that these topological forms suggested a way to capture movements
in which a surface of a limb seems to inscribe a planar curve rather than a line.
Shifts in the surface of the limb touching this virtual planar curve are brought
about by twisting, and Laban may have seen these changes in rotation as
analogous to the twist that produces a Moebius strip.
On the other hand, the lemniscate may have served as symbolic device.
Laban conceived of human movement as a psychophysical phenomenon. His
taxonomy identifies two distinctive domains: the outer domain of space and
the inner domain of effort. While each domain has its own set of descriptive
categories, Laban insisted that a definite movement with a definite traceform is always connected with inner happenings such as feelings, reflections,
determinations of the will and other emotional impulses.45 Since the lemniscatic
band has no division between inside and outside,46 Laban may see it as
representing the essential unity of movement in which the inner impulse to
move takes physical form in space. Indeed, at the end of the chapter in which
lemniscates are introduced, Laban writes that movement is mans magic mirror,
reflecting and creating the inner life in and by visible trace-forms, and also
reflecting and creating the visible trace-forms in and by the inner life.47
The Hypercube. While the lemniscate provided a symbol for the unity of
effort and space, Laban struggled to find other ways to express the mutual
influence of these two domains on one another. Many of Labans writings,
both published and unpublished, contain repeated attempts to express the
bonding of the psychological with the physical in human movement. It seems
that he grappled over and over again with how to describe the influence of the
unseen (thought and feeling) on what can be seen (dynamic movement through
space). According to Laban, the linking of any action-moods produces a kind
of trace-form which does not always take on a definite kinespheric shape but
influences the dynamic expression of the move. This might be looked upon as
a shadow-form, which connects the centralized living energy with actions in
kinespheric space.48 He goes on to characterize shadow-forms as very small

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expressive movements of the face, hand and other parts of the body, adding
that these almost invisible shadow-forms can be compared to the almost
inaudible overtones in music.49
In extending this musical analogy, Laban observes that in music, the tone
and its octave appear first and then the other nuances.50 On the one hand, the
first things we perceive in movement are the fine nuances of the shadow-forms,
and only when the emotional tone or action-mood is determined does the real
trace-form become visible in the kinesphere.51 This statement appears merely
to reiterate the fact that the inner impulse to move both precedes and determines
the nature of purposeful action. On the other hand, Laban claims that these
very small, almost invisible shadow-forms have a spatial architecture, which
can be controlled and investigated.52
In searching for a suitable architecture to represent effort, Laban
experimented with the hypercubea four-dimensional cube. From the
mathematicians point of view the hypercube is the four-dimensional object
that results when we move cube in a fourth dimension perpendicular to all its
edges.53 This hypothetical form has sixteen vertices, and this appears to be
the feature that interested Laban. As shown in Plate R, Laban used these vertices
to situate all sixteen combinations of full effort actions, that is, effort
configurations composed of weight, time, space, and flow. In other words, the
hypercube provided a geometrical scaffolding that could be used to represent
all four dimensions of the eukinetic domain, if only hypothetically. However,
this model may account for the term shadow-form, for if a four-dimensional
object is going to be visible in three-dimensional space, it will only be visible
as a shadow form.
Labans Vision of Dynamic Space
Many of the models of eukinetic harmony presented in this chapter are
confounding due to Labans proclivity for representing effort in spatial terms.
Perhaps this is because The Language of Movement was written prior to the
development of the effort symbols. Consequently, Laban used the direction
symbols affined with the dimensions, planes, and diagonals to generate a kind
of pidgin symbology for effort qualities and action drive combinations.
Unfortunately, this use of direction symbols makes it difficult to ascertain
whether a three-dimensional model is figurative or whether it is to be taken
literally. The potential value of Labans theoretical work depends on reading
the intent of the model correctly. The following points, based upon the authors

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practical exploration of these models, may be relevant.

The eighteen-link circuits in the cube appear to be figurative models
representing effort sequences rather than spatial pathways. These effort patterns
may be performed anywhere in the kinesphere; it is not necessary to link them
to a cubic scaffolding or to particular directions in space. In fact, it is much
easier to perform these phrases by letting the spatial form emerge from the
effort content, rather than vice versa. In fact, these modulated phrases are
eminently performable. As practical movement exercises, they have the potential
to awaken a feeling for appropriate transitions, rhythms and forms within
movement sequences, albeit in a highly organized manner.54
In the case of knots and twisted circles, it is difficult to discern whether
Laban means for these to be figurative models of dynamospheric patterns, or
literal maps of trace-forms, or perhaps a bit of both. He depicts the spatial
coordinates and describes the shape of these forms with great specificity, but
he does not articulate their effort content. In the case of the knot form, its odd
kinespheric orientation and asymmetrical shape are not particularly pleasing
to embody as a spatial sequence. However, if the knot is freed from its spatial
scaffolding and performed as an effort sequence, this form comes to life,
revealing many expressive and dramatic possibilities.
The twisted circle, which is essentially a three-dimensional figure 8 shape,
is easier to perform in relation to the signal points specified by Laban. Unlike
the knot, which always loops around and around its diagonal in the same
direction (clockwise or counter-clockwise), the twisted circle alternates between
clockwise and counter-clockwise loops. This alternation lends plasticity to the
form and makes it easy to shift its orientation in the kinesphere. Nevertheless,
when transposed into an effort sequence, the twisted circle has awkward jumps
in mood that make fluid transitions difficult.
Embodying these forms makes it possible to hypothesize links between
the effort content and spatial form of the knot and twisted circle. In the case of
knots, for example, it is possible to speculate that a persistent mood from which
the mover cannot escape may find spatial expression in repetitive gestures that
tend to cluster in or keep returning to a single zone of the kinesphere. This
might or might not be the particular zone delineated in Labans model.
Nevertheless, the model serves to indicate potential connections that could be
examined empirically.
In the case of twisted circles, fluid changes in dynamics may arise
spontaneously from the smooth reversal of direction that occurs when tracing

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figure 8 shapes in three-dimensional space. However, these dynamic changes

may or may not be precisely the ones extrapolated from Labans formal models.
What is being suggested here is that Labans models are all, to some degree,
figurative approximations of natural movement behavior. Too literal an
interpretation may in fact restrict the heuristic potential of the model as a vehicle
for further empirical analysis of human movement.
In giving form to his vision of dynamic space, Laban explored lemniscatic
bands, hypercubes, and other hypothetical shapes and spaces. His work in these
areas is intriguing but obscure perhaps for good reasons. Laban was gifted
with a rich visual imagination and obvious ability as an amateur geometer, but
these gifts may have proved insufficient for the further exploration of
topological forms and spaces. As Barr observes, really high-bouncing
topologists not only avoid anything like pictures of these things, they mistrust
them. This is partly because it is not only impossible to make a visually
recognizable picture of some of their spaces, but meaningless.55 While interest
in higher dimensions of space began in the 19th century, Banchoff feels that
modeling techniques of 100 years ago were inadequate for the depiction of
multi-dimensional figures. Eventually higher-dimensional geometry came to
be based not only on analogy but on coordinate geometry, which could translate
geometric concepts into numerical and algebraic form.56 This mathematical
language did not make it possible to see objects like hypercubes, but thanks
to striking developments in computer graphics, it is now possible for us to
have direct visual experience of objects that exist only in higher dimensions.57
Laban seems to have grasped intuitively the potential application of
topological concepts such as networks, knots, surfaces, and multi-dimensional
spaces in the study of human movement. However, his mathematical and graphic
skills do not appear to have been sophisticated enough for his explorations to
have yielded concrete results. It is interesting to speculate how Laban might
have extended these explorations with greater mathematical expertise and access
to computer graphics.
While the hypercube did not prove fruitful as a way to theorize the affinities
linking the four-dimensional eukinetic domain with the three-dimensional
choreutic domain, Laban eventually developed a mature model of effort/space
affinities. These harmonic correlations are surveyed in the last chapter.

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Notes
11. Laban, Language of Movement, 66.
12. Ibid., 94.
13. Jourdain, Music, Brain, and Ecstasy, 338.
14. Ibid.
15. Ibid., 106.
16. Ibid., 108.
17. Ibid.
18. Holst, ABC of Music, 88.
19. Jourdain, Music, Brain, and Ecstasy, 107.
10. Ibid., 109.
11. Ibid.
12. Laban, Language of Movement, 55.
13. Ibid., 67.
14. Holst, ABC of Music, 87-88.
15. Jourdain, Music, Brain, and Ecstasy, 109.
16. The finished drawing shown here is taken from the unpublished first draft
of the work by Laban and Lawrence that later became Effort. A similar
model is found in The Language of Movement, but the sequence is written
with direction symbols rather than effort symbols. The model is discussed
as a natural sequence in the dynamosphere between contrasing effort
moods. See Language of Movement, 57-58.
17. Laban, Language of Movement, 57.
18. Ibid., 59.
19. Laban, Mastery of Movement, 124.
20. Ibid., 126.
21. Ibid., 122.
22. Ibid., 17.
23. Ibid., 124.
24. Laban, Language of Movement, 56.
25. Ibid, 92.
26. Ibid.
27. Ibid., 93.
28. Ibid.
29. Ibid., 92.
30. Ibid., 96.
31. Ibid., 97.

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32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.
38.
39.
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.
45.
46.
47.
48.
49.
50.
51.
52.
53.
54.
55.
56.
57.

Ibid.
Ibid.
Ibid., 94.
Laban, manuscript, E/L/2/61, Laban Archive, NRCD.
Laban, Language of Movement, 97.
Ibid.
Ibid.
Ibid.
Laban, Mastery of Movement, 17.
Ibid., 19.
Ibid., 20.
Laban, manuscript, E/L/2/61, Laban Archive, NRCD.
Ibid.
Laban, Language of Movement, 100.
Ibid., 98.
Ibid., 100.
Ibid., 58.
Ibid., 66.
Ibid.
Ibid.
Ibid.
Banchoff, Beyond the Third Dimension, 9.
Laban, Mastery of Movement, 120.
Barr, Experiments in Topology, 2.
Banchoff, Beyond the Third Dimension, 10.
Ibid., 11.

CHAPTER 9

The Harmonic Unity of Form and Energy

Labans recognition of human movement as a psychophysical phenomenon
led him to grapple with one of the most trying of problems of the ages the
relationship of body and mind. The Zen philosopher Suzuki has described this
relationship as a paradoxical one, for our body and mind are not two and not
one Our body and mind are both two and one.1 Laban was well aware of
this paradox. The dichotomy of the physical and mental is reflected to some
extent by the separation of choreutic and eukinetic elements in his movement
taxonomy. As he writes, there are two seemingly incommensurable things
the purely mechanical functions of our bodies which follow the laws of physics
on the one hand, and on the other, the stream of ideas and feelings, which are
intangible in themselves, and which seem to follow laws often directly contrary
to those of physics.2
Phenomenologists differentiate the physical body, which is distinguishable
from without, from the lived body that is experienced and known from within.
As Levin puts it, the body must be a material, objective, physical, worldly
substance, a living, animal nature that somehow is also human, ensouled,
spiritual.3 Hanna, philosophical spokesperson for the contemporary somatics
movement, has framed this as a distinction between a third-person and firstperson view. The human being seen from the third person viewis a body
an objective entity, observable, analyzable, and measurable in the same way
as any other object.4 Soma is the term Hanna coined to represent the alternative
first-person view of the lived body, the human being observed from the inside
through ones own proprioceptive senses.5 These senses feed back a rich
display of somatic information which is immediately self-observed as a process
that is both unified and ongoing.6 From Hannas point of view, body and
soma are coequal in reality and value, but they are categorically distinct.7
Nevertheless, as Levin points out, the so-called problematic of the body
must then refer to the question of the relationship between our animal nature
and our human nature, our animal being (as a physical body) and our human
being (as a spiritual being endowed with reason and speech). 8 Welton agrees,

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noting that the distinction between physical and lived body still leaves open
the question of how they are related.9
For Laban, the body and mind are joined through the medium of movement.
In his view, the forms which result from this joining, are the traces and
ornamental lines which we create with our bodily movement, inspired by the
inner movement of our minds.10 He goes on to explain that an observer of a
moving person is at once aware, not only of the movement, but of the mood of
the lines which the body traces in the air. Thus we see that the shapes of the
movements through space are more or less colored by that which we call a
feeling or an idea.11 While Laban is undoubtedly aware that the outside observer
has limited access to the proprioceptive experience of the mover, he asserts
nevertheless that the content of ideas and feelings which we have when moving
or seeing movement, as well as the forms and lines in space, can be analysed.12
This assertion arises from his observations of intrinsic relationships between
spatial forms and kinetic energies.
This chapter explores the further reaches of Labans theoretical formulation
of the effort/space relationships. This exploration begins with a review of the
published theory of effort/space affinities and its limitations. Discussion then
moves on to consider unpublished theoretical developments on the part of
Laban, which the author has reconstructed from archival materials. The chapter
closes with a critical assessment of Labans harmonic theory, reflecting on
what he accomplished and considering potential lines for further research.
Existing Theory of Effort/Space Affinities
Laban published two basic schemes connecting effort and space. The first
scheme relates dimensional lines of motion to the motion factors of weight,
time, and space. The second scheme correlates diagonal trajectories and Action
Drive combinations (see Chapter 5, p. 163, Fig. 5-7, and p. 175, Fig. 5-13).
Laban writes that I have taught that the eight basic efforts [Action Drive
compounds] can be best performed by the body in the directions of the eight
diagonals of the cube around the erect body. The coordination of each one of
the basic efforts with a definite diagonal (see my books Effort and Modern
Educational Dance) has been empirically found to be sound and is generally
accepted.13
While Laban avers these correlations to be based on empirical evidence
and defends their validity, these published models are incomplete. First, he has

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not specified any directional correlation for the motion factor of flow. Secondly,
Laban has not identified effort affinities for the deflected directions, notably
for the transverse and peripheral pathways of the icosahedron.
Archival traces indicate that Laban was aware of these gaps in the theory
of effort/space affinities and worked to remedy them. Outlines of this work
appear in papers written in German, which may be presumed to date from
Labans arrival in England in the late 1930s. Other drawings and fragmentary
papers in English suggest that Laban continued to work on this problem,
approaching it from a variety of angles. More finished drawings and writings
are undated, but suggest that Laban settled upon a theoretical solution, possibly
by the late 1940s. Unfortunately, Laban did not publish this solution as such.
Before discussing Labans mature theorization of effort/space relationships,
certain foundational ideas must be reiterated. These include the dual concepts
of direction as destination or motion; the salience of the diagonals in Labans
models, and factors that may influence the manifestation of the affinities.
Destination or Motion. In order to develop an effective notation system,
Laban was forced to conceptualize movement through space in two ways: as a
path to a particular kinespheric destination and as motion away from a starting
point that could be anywhere in the kinesphere. These dual concepts mean that
there are several ways to interpret the spatial aspect of effort/space relationships.
If destination is used, the spatial pathway will be conceived in relation to a
specific kinespheric geography that situates the mover at the center of a
scaffolding of fixed coordinate points. Effort affinities are either associated
with lines in space arriving at specific destinations within this fixed scaffolding
or viewed as inhabiting certain zones of the kinesphere. In the first instance,
a floating action would be associated with a diagonal trajectory leading to the
open forward high corner of the cube. In the second instance, floating actions
might be associated with any movement of the right side of the body occurring
in the zone of the kinesphere that is above waist level, to the right, and forward
of the mover. In either case, this is a very literal reading of Labans concept of
effort/space affinities, allowing for very few degrees of freedom.
On the other hand, if the spatial pathway is conceived as motion away
from a starting point that can be anywhere in the kinesphere, there is greater
freedom of interpretation. From a variety of starting positions, any number of
diagonal pathways that rise, open, and advance may be found. As a consequence,
the associated floating effort is no longer bound to only one spatial trajectory,

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or even to a single zone of the kinesphere. Rather, a floating quality may be

conceived to accompany any oblique motion of rising, opening, and advancing.
Labans models of effort/space affinities are always situated within fixed
geometrical scaffoldings. In the oral transmission of Labans work, students
are coached to embody the effort affinities by moving along specific lines to
specific destinations. However, naturally-occurring movements are not so
rigidly constructed. Consequently, observational attempts to discern
relationships between spatial form and effort tend to conceive directional
pathways in terms of motion, not merely in terms of destination. It is likely that
Laban himself shifted between these perspectives in his attempts to model
relationships on the basis of empirical evidence.
Salience of the Diagonals. In Chapter 4 it was noted that the four diagonals
of the cube were particularly important to Laban for several reasons. First, the
ends of these lines serve as markers for zones of the kinesphere. Secondly,
Laban correlated each diagonal with two contrasting action moods. Thus each
diagonal delineates a kind of corridor of action. In addition, Laban writes that
from the point of view of movement possibility the fundamental
directions of the immediate region of the reaching space around us are
the eight corners of a cube-like box in which we can imagine ourselves
to be placed. Why the eight corners and not up and down, and right
and left, and forwards and backwards? These six directions are
geometrically very important and useful, but they have nothing to do
with movement. The real harmonies of movement in space are the
inclinations leading out of the rigid balance of three-dimensionality.14
Based upon this observation, Laban developed whole families of multisided rhythmic circles and choreutic scales surrounding each of these diagonal
axes. Eukinetic patterns were also theorized, based upon rhythmic oscillation
between the contrasting moods that Laban associated with these lines in space.
In addition, as shall be seen shortly, these invisible axes provide a conceptual
anchor for Labans mature theory of the affinities.
Factors Influencing Manifestation of Affinities. While Laban avers that
there will always be a connection between outer movement and the movers
inner attitude,15 he recognizes that there are several factors that influence the
nature of these connections. For example, Laban notes that the correlation of
qualities of weight, time, and space with simple dimensional movements is
most obvious in freely-flowing movement rather than more restrained

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actions.16 The use of bound flow introduces greater control of motion, and
Laban acknowledges that different correlations arise between effort and
spatial form in these instances.17
Laban also flags complexity and the aim of a given sequence of actions as
affecting the manifestation of affinities. He admits, that simple movements of
any outer inclination can have almost any effort content. This freedom changes
radically in a series or combination of movements of a purely expressive
character, where particular inner inclinations are connected [more easily] with
certain inclinations than with others.18
Finally, Laban recognizes individuality as integral element of movement
harmony. Certain types of movements will suit one person more than another;
some will prefer narrow and restrained movements, others may like to move
freely in space, and so forth.19 In fact, later empirical studies of expressive
movement patterns have revealed significant individual differences in
correlations of effort and space when these are compared to Labans models.20
These differences do not invalidate the model; they merely indicate that the
correlations Laban identified are subject to many factors that affect whether or
not these relationships hold in a particular movement event.
Steps in the Emergent Theoretical Process
In writing about kinetic harmony, Laban flags the term inclination as a
key to his thinking about effort/space relationships:
The word inclination is used in the study and practice of movement
in both meanings given to it in everyday language. Not only is there an
inner inclination to colour stillness and stir in various combinations
and grades of [effort] intensity, but external movement is always
characterised by changes of direction which are inclined in definite
angles to one another in space.21
This statement provides insight into the progression of Labans thinking
about movement harmony. His initial explorations revealed that angular
distance in body articulation corresponds with angles in movement shapes.22
Laban pursued this observation, studying thousands of movement circuits in
order to distill these into some typical circuits with definite angular distances
between their lines.23 (These typical circuits include the rings and scales
that Laban identified as harmonic intervals of the standard scale.) In addition,
he theorized kinetic energy as consisting of four motion factors, each of which

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may be seen to vary between two contrasting fighting versus indulging

qualities. Laban was able to draw simple correlations between dimensional
and diagonal lines in space and the motion factors, effort qualities, and effort
combinations. Looking for more complex correlations between the effortful
inclinations that color movement and the typical spatial circuits that he had
identified proved to be the next logical extension of harmonic theory.
From Line to Angle. Laban appears to have examined the type of effort
variation that accompanies spatial inclinations, defined as the angle between
two directions.24 His aim was to correlate effort rhythms with the spatial
rhythms of directional change. Laban experimented with various models, but
eventually settled on a set of four prototypic inclinations: a steeple measured
at 30 degrees, a volute measured at 60 degrees, a right angle measured at 90
degrees, and a blunt angle measured at 120 degrees. He correlated these
with motion factors as follows:
Steeple inclinations with variations in flow
Volute inclinations with variations in time
Right angle inclinations with variations in space
Blunt inclinations with variations in weight. 25
In order to fill in the gaps in the theory of affinities, all these inclinations were
conceived as relating to the transverse or peripheral lines of the icosahedron.26
Moreover, in an earlier document in German, Laban related these angular
inclinations to trace-forms that can be derived from the standard scale. In this
scheme the steeple inclinations are related to the axis scale, the volute
inclinations to the polar and transverse three-rings, the right angle inclinations
to the tilted planes, and the blunt inclinations to the equator.27
Prototypic Shapes. The concept of angular inclination introduces the idea
of effort being associated not merely with single linear trajectories but with
line complexes; that is, with shapes. And, indeed, Laban appears to have shifted
from the study of effort and space to the study of effort and shape. He writes,
it is for us easier to speak about space, time, weight, and flow separately and
to forget that all these movement factors have definite fundamental shapes.28
Laban toyed with various terms for these flow, time, space, and weight
shapes so as to capture both the Gestalt of the trace-form as well as its orientation
in the kinesphere. For example, he describes the flow shape as moving through
the Centre; it has a penetrating character. The time shape moves around
the Centre, it has a constricting or circumventing character.29 The space
shape extends across or away from the Centre; it has an irradiating character.

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The weight shape is tied into the Centre; it has an enclosing character.30
Additional information about kinespheric orientation is provided by Labans
observation that one will find that there exist four Flow, four Time, four Weight,
and four Space shapes; these four are always identical in structure but displaced
in the fundamental diagonal directions.31 In other words, these characteristic
shapes are organized in families around each of the cubic diagonals, which
serve as their axes.
The Mature Theory of Effort/Shape Affinities
Archival traces scattered across categorical headings of the Rudolf Laban
Archive suggested that Laban was pulling together various theoretical strands,
but only a vague outline of this theoretical consolidation could be discerned.
Eventually, documents that spelled out the connections of effort and shape in
detail were found. This discovery allowed the full set of correlations that Laban
developed to be mapped clearly, using 24 of the peripheral edges and 24 of the
transversals of the icosahedron. Each shape identified as relating to a motion
factor is composed of six transversals and six peripheral lines. All the
inclinations that he chose to use are off-vertical. In keeping with his view that
movement inclines in space, Laban avoids using any of the edges of cardinal
planes. The correlations cited and illustrated below are those worked out by
Laban around the diagonal axis.32 These correlations are also represented by
the set of carefully finished drawings, shown in Plates S V, in which Laban
has depicted each icosahedral shape within a larger dodecahedron.

Figure 9-1. FLOW shape:

penetrating.

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The Flow Shape. The flow shape, shown in Figure 9-1 and Plate S, uses
the six transversals that make up the axis scale around the diagonal axis. In
addition, Laban specifies six edges of the icosahedron as belonging to this
configuration. Each of these peripherals spins off from one corner of the polar
triangles that surround the diagonal. These peripheral lines incline in a direction
roughly parallel to one of the transverse links of the axis scale. Laban describes
this form as a tube-like shape provoking the action mode of penetrating which
characterises Flow.33 He later used the terms arrow and pin to refer to
this shape.
The Time Shape. This shape is composed of the two polar triangles that
surround the ends of the diagonal axis and the two transverse three rings that
gird the middle of this diagonal. The polar triangles contribute the six peripheral
lines, while the transverse three-rings contribute the six transversals. Laban
notes that these four rings form plane-like shapes around their axis with a
circumventing action mode, and a division which characterizes Time.34 He
later used the term screw to refer to this shape, shown in Figure 2-9 and
Plate T.

Figure 9-2.TIME shape:

circumventing.

The Space Shape. The shape associated with space effort is composed of
a set of three interlocking tilted planes. The short edges of each plane are
peripheral edges of the icoashedron, while the long edges are transverse rays.
Laban describes these forms as tending or irradiating away from their axis.
This gives them an action mode of spreading which characterizes Space.35 He

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later used the term wall to refer to this configuration, shown in Figure 9-3
and Plate U.

Figure 9-3. SPACE shape:

irradiating.

The Weight Shape. The weight shape is composed of the six peripheral
edges of the icosahedron corresponding to the equator around this diagonal
axis. In addition, Laban associated six transversals with weight. These
transversals all intersect the diagonal axis. Three of these transversals intersect
near the upper end of the axis, while the other three form a nexus nearer the
lower end. Laban describes these intersections as creating a double funnellike shape that gives a concentrating action mode and characterizes Weight.36
He later used the term ball to refer to this shape, shown in Figure 9-4 and
Plate V.

Figure 9-4. WEIGHT

shape: enclosing.

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Misinterpretation of Shape. As noted earlier, Laban did not publish his

mature theory of effort/shape affinities as such. However, he did refer to his
work on shape in The Mastery of Movement. In this publication he uses the
term ball for the enclosing weight shape, pin for the penetrating flow shape,
screw for the circumventing time shape, and wall for the irradiating space
shape. He introduces these terms in relation to body carriage.37 While this
association retains the sense of shape as a configuration of lines in space, it
has led over time to acceptance of these terms as ways to describe still
shapes.38 Labans own presentation of these concepts is responsible, at least
in part, for their misinterpretation. Perhaps he felt the need to simplify his
conceptual work in order to meet the needs of his practical work with actors
and primary school educators. On the other hand, Warren Lamb, who studied
with Laban in the late 1940s, recalls Labans own oral transmission of these
shapes as follows: He [Laban] referred to the kinesphere and shaping within
it as ball, pin, wall, screw. Always, to me, it looked like movement he was
doing when he demonstrated these terms. He was not playing statues.39
Nevertheless, Labans own simplification of these concepts effectively obscured
the advanced theoretical work in which he was engaged.
A Shift in Perspective
Labans advanced work on effort/shape harmonies represents a shift in
perspective in several significant ways. Earlier models, it will be recalled, are
based upon simple one-to-one associations of effort qualities with linear
trajectories. The visible line of motion can be identified and related,
hypothetically at least, to its effort affinity. The mature model shifts the
association of motion factors to complex configurations of lines around a
diagonal axis. Dynamic energies are no longer correlated with only one motion
but many motions, no longer married to a single spatial direction but tied to
many directions radiating sequentially from an invisible hub. Identification of
the harmonic correlations of effort and shape in this scheme is much more
demanding, and various issues would have to be resolved before the model
could undergo further concrete empirical examination.
On the other hand, this model is more representative of the complexity of
movement, which seldom follows a single line in space. As Bodmer explains,
harmonic movement is much more intricate. While the central
movements of the trunk establish the body stance, stressing either

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dimensional, diagonal or transversal direction, the outer peripheral

movements of the extremities are more complex. Through the body
stance, the central structure is strengthened and reinforced, and this
enables us to counter-balance the peripheral movements. The whole
action of the body is thus a three-dimensional network of poised,
reciprocal, and balanced movements.40
Labans mature model of effort/shape affinities shifts perspective in another
way. In the earlier dimensional and diagonal models, Laban associated each
polar effort quality with a particular direction in space, so that, for example,
decreasing pressure was conceived to accompany upward movement, while
the contrasting quality of increasing pressure was linked to downward
movement. In the mature models, Laban does not appear to have associated
the fighting and indulging qualities in the same way. Nevertheless, there is
fragmentary evidence that Laban was exploring a more general scheme of
association, in which it is the shift in direction, rather than the particular direction
itself, that marks a change in dynamic quality. For example, the fighting or
indulging quality of flow would be expected to vary in conjunction with the
rhythmic shift in angular direction between adjacent links of the penetrating
shape.41
In general, Labans mature theoretical explorations evidence a move from
simple to more complex formulations. His speculations become increasingly
abstract. At the same time, the models he is developing continue to reveal a
rigorous consistency. There is a beautiful coherence, for example, in his
correlations of effort elements with the shapes associated with the harmonic
intervals of the standard scales. Moreover, archival materials indicate three
lines of advanced exploration. While none of these may be considered as
definitive or conclusive, each line of inquiry is of sufficient interest to merit
discussion. Each elaboration is surveyed briefly below.
Correlating Effort States with Deflected Directions. Laban extended his
model of affinities to develop line complexes relating to each of the six effort
states. Each model is a twelve-link ring, with half of the links derived from
lines associated with one motion factor, and the other six links derived from
lines associated with the second motion factor composing the effort state.42 All
the forms are Hamiltonian circuits that touch all twelve corners of the
icosahedron only once, returning to the point of origin. The effort correlations
of these forms are somewhat surprising. For example the remote state combines

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the motion factors of space and time. Its twelve-ring is composed of the six
peripheral edges of the tilted planes (space shape) and the six peripheral lines
extending from the axis scale (flow shape), as shown in Figure 9-5. The resulting
twelve-link peripheral ring is, in fact, the standard scale around the diagonal
. Laban appears to be associating the nature of this trace-form (which meanders
circuitously around the edges of the kinesphere, always maintaining its distance
from center) with a pensive mood of fluid variations in focus.

Figure 9-5. Effort relationships standard scale.

Another surprising correlation is found in the stable state ring. This circuit
is composed of six transversals drawn from the space shape (the long edges of
the tilted planes) and six transversals drawn from the weight shape (the rays
that intersect the diagonal axis), as shown in Figure 9-6. When these lines are
linked, the left B scale results. Again, this suggests that Laban associated a
stable mood of focused determination with the swooping pathways of this
transverse scale.

Figure 9-6. Effort relationship left B scale.

The other four states (mobile, dream, near, and awake) are mixed rings.
Six links are still drawn from each of the two shapes associated with their
component motion factors. However, these shapes mix transverse and peripheral
lines. Some of the resulting patterns are symmetrical; others are not. Perhaps
these patterns were works-in-progress. Laban writes that, aside from SpaceFlow-Remoteness, which is associated with the standard scales, and SpaceWeight-Stableness, which is correlated with the transverse A and B scales,
the shapes of the other states are not closed scales but open meanders, which
Laban sees as semi-harmonious.43 While all these patterns demonstrate his
skill in constructing Hamiltonian circuits, they should be viewed as theoretical
excursions, for Laban does not appear to have finalized these models.

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Motion Factors as Multi-Dimensional Phenomena. In addition to

associating the four motion factors with line complexes, Laban also
experimented with other types of geometrical correlations. He outlines these
associations in an unpublished manuscript dealing with the tectonic
implications of the four effort factors. In yet another attempt to find a way to
express the unity of energy and form, Laban writes that, in any movement,
the body (or one or several parts of it) draws, or follows, or creates an
architectural or tectonic form of visible configurations in the air. Movement
along each of the four basic configurations shows a definite character of
expression.44 For example, Laban discusses time as a struggle between past
and future that manifests as changes of pace affined to a line. The struggling
elements in space effort, however, are not quickness and slowness, but a
shortest possible way and a circumferential way.45 While this could be
expressed by a straight line versus a roundabout line, Laban insists that our
feeling of space has nothing to do with lines but with surfaces.46 For this
reason, he chooses a band or twisted band as the tectonic form related,
respectively, to directing and indirecting. In the case of weight effort, he offers
the following analogy: Like a table or photographic tripod that must have at
least three legs to stand upon in order to support a weight, so any movement
needs also three main directions in which its weight can develop.47 Laban
envisions this three-dimensional tectonic form as something like the corner
of a body in which three directions cross each other.48
It should be clear by now that Laban is building up a model of dimensional
complexity in relation to motion factors. As he writes, time could be symbolized
by two points building one line with a two-way traffic; space, by two lines
building one surface with inside and outside traffic; weight, by three surfaces
building one funnel with entering and outgoing traffic.49 The tectonic shape
for flow, then, must be four-dimensional. This dimensional progression is
depicted in Figure 9-7.
At this point in the manuscript, even Labans literary powers fail him and
it becomes extremely difficult to visualize the flow shape as two funnel-like
features that open in contrasting directions while having one surface in
common.50 However, this could be his attempt to describe a Klein bottle, an
object that has a flexible neck that wraps back into itself to form a shape with
no inside or outside.51 Laban was familiar with this shape, for he attempted a
depiction in Figure 9-7. In any case, he claims that the flow shape contains all

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elements: linear axes where time variations occur, surfaces where space
variations occur, and single funnels where weight variations occur. 52
Curiously, Labans abstract speculations seem to have a kernel of truth.
The effort factor of flow has been found to predominate in the movements of
infants. Through painstaking movement analysis, Kestenberg and her associates
have identified a discrete number of patterns of flow fluctuation.53 Moreover,
their longitudinal studies of movement development have revealed that, as
children gain mastery of bodily actions, Weight, Time, and Space appeared,
and Flow diminished.54 These studies support Labans intuition that flow is
the basic motion factor from which all other effort elements emerge.

Figure 9-7. Labans sketches of multi-dimensional forms.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/14/34 NRCD.

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From Angle to Surface. While Labans tectonic correlations should be

viewed as speculative, they indicate his efforts to develop more complex models.
Another example of this shift is evidenced by Labans interest in surface. His
earlier concepts centered on skeletal three-dimensional models in which
movement was primarily conceived as lines traced in space. He then went on
to consider the intersection of these lines, elaborating a theory of effort/shape
affinity based upon angular relationships. Planar surfaces can be conceived to
lie within the angle of two intersecting lines. These surfaces begin to build
more complex three-dimensional solids. And indeed, there is graphic evidence
that Laban experimented with conceiving movement lines and angles as building
three-dimensional forms of certain shapes. For example, in Figure 9-8, Laban
has combined lines from the space and weight shapes to generate intersecting
planes, creating an unusual three-dimensional form.

Figure 9-8. Weight/space shape.

Rudolf Laban Archive L/E/18/62 NRCD.

While few of these examples of Labans theoretical excursions appear

conclusive, they represent ways in which he continued to work to grow his
theories of human movement. These are flights of fancy in many instances.
Nevertheless these traces indicate that Laban was looking for conceptual tools
that would allow him to theorize movement in increasingly complex ways.
The general trend of his inquiry was away from the atomism of his early work,
which had given rise to his analytical taxonomies, toward more complex and
wholistic models. As Bartenieff summarizes,

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All of Rudolf Labans life whether as a dancer/choreographer, teacher/

theoretician, or philosopher/humanist was an intensive, constant
involvement with all facets of movement. It was an unending process
of defining inner and outer manifestations of movement phenomena
in increasingly subtle shades and complex interrelationships. Thus,
we see him working with constellations of qualities rather than with
isolated facts or single aspects: the attempt was always to get at the
core of the movement process, behavior, and expressiveness.55
Reconsidering the Theory of Movement Harmony
In his attempts to get at the core of bodily action and expression, Laban
recognized that the outer manifestation of movement in the kinesphere is
categorically different from the inner flow of thought and feeling in the
dynamosphere. On the other hand, he was convinced that these distinctions
were dissolved in the actual process of moving. Based upon this insight, he
employed harmony as an analogic metaphor to theorize how the mental,
emotional, and physical seamlessly fuse in human movement.
In earlier chapters it has been argued that Laban employed a naturalistic
research methodology, studying movement in a variety of contexts over his
long career as an artist-researcher. Through systematic analysis of this
observational data, Laban was able to identify significant classes of movement
elements and the properties which characterize them.56 These discoveries
allowed him to develop a movement taxonomy and to generate notational
symbols and rules of syntax for representing movement in terms of these
elemental classes. However, development of a system of analytic description
was only part of Labans research enterprise, for he was also searching for key
linkages between classes of elements. Harmony became Labans guiding
metaphor, the grounded key for theorizing movement as a unified field of
human experience.57
Auerbach and Silverstein propose that the credibility of a grounded theory
should be evaluated on the basis of its transparency, communicability, and
coherence.58 When steps in the research process are well-documented so as to
demonstrate a logical link between data collection, analysis, and interpretation,
a theory is said to be transparent. When interpretive themes and theoretical
constructs are readily understood by others in a given discipline, a theory is
considered to be communicable. And when theoretical constructs fit together
so as to provide a plausible explanation of the phenomenon under examination,

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a theory is said to be coherent. The credibility of Labans harmonic theory

may be considered in relation to these elements.
Coherence is the strongest attribute of Labans theory of movement
harmony. By employing harmony as an analogic metaphor, Laban identifies
structural congruities between the harmonic components of music and those
of dance. His analogic modeling incorporates elements such as tone, interval,
scale, transposition, modulation, phrasing, and harmonic relationship.
Consistent principles of development can be detected in how Laban theorized
the movement equivalents of these elements. For example, the prototypic spatial
sequences that Laban identified as scales meet his internal criteria for harmonic
forms: ratio and proportion, balance, symmetry, unity of form, relationship of
elements, and individuality. Choreutic scales are based upon congruent ratios
between angles of bodily motion and the angular scaffoldings that Laban used
to map movement space. Circuits traverse the space around the body in ordered
sequences that are balanced and achieve a unity of form due to the multiple
symmetries Laban has embedded in them. Kinship among forms can be
discerned, based upon similarity of shape, shared orientation around a diagonal
axis, or topological homeomorphism. Conventions of embodiment, preserved
in the oral transmission of choreutic forms, specify consistent whole body
participation led by one side of the body. Labans written guidelines seldom
delineate how these forms are to be embodied; instead he advocates individual
interpretation.
Moving on to the eukinetic domain, kinship of effort moods is used to
model modulated shifts between contrasting configurations. Laban has
developed these phrasings through symmetry operations, ensuring a balanced
range of dynamospheric expression. Processes of transposition permit patterns
modeled on one geometric form to be transferred to another. This allows for
the controlled comparison of patterns both within and across domains. Due to
proportional relationships among the Platonic solids which Laban uses for
modeling movement sequences, octahedral trace-forms can be transposed to
the cube or icosahedron. Similarly, dynamospheric patterns mapped on the
cube can be projected onto the icosahedral model of the kinesphere, and
kinespheric forms can be transposed onto the cube. This controlled modeling
helps Laban theorize the mutual influence of inner motivation and outer action,
giving rise to a mature theory of harmonic relationships between form and
energy.
Unfortunately, the dense coherence of Labans harmonic theory, along with

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its complex geometric representation, negatively impacts communicability. His

harmonic ideas have primarily been conveyed through the oral tradition of
studio practices. This has provided a way to transmit this work as a vocabulary
of movement. However, it has not necessarily been a sufficient means for
conveying the more abstract formulations underlying this vocabulary. While
Laban refers to the harmonic structure of movement in many publications, his
major treatise, Choreutics (also known by the title, The Language of Movement),
was published posthumously. Other advanced theoretical work remains
unpublished. These factors have also impeded communicability of his harmonic
formulations, for this work simply has not been available for wider public or
scholarly review.
Finally, Laban averred that his harmonic theory was based upon empirical
evidence. However, he does not present these data systematically in any of his
published works. He does not document his analytical processes or articulate
how he identified themes and links between emergent conceptual categories.
As a consequence, it is difficult to substantiate the transparency of his theory.
Judging the credibility of Labans theory of movement harmony by these
criteria is not entirely fair, of course, for Laban was not trained in research
methodology. Moreover, protocols for conducting naturalistic research and
constructing grounded theory were not developed until after his death. Had
Laban been familiar with these protocols, he might have made his research
process more transparent. Had he been able to publish more in his lifetime and
benefit from peer review and discussion, he might have been able to surmount
some of the difficulties of explaining his ideas.
Nevertheless, these technical problems and accidents of fate should not
overshadow Labans considerable theoretical accomplishment. In my
reconstruction of Labans work, I have endeavored to redress issues of
transparency and communicability in the following ways. Links between
Labans first career as a visual artist and his subsequent work as a movement
theorist demonstrate how he applied his visual skills and imagination in the
study of movement. Discussion of the movement taxonomy he developed aimed
not merely to present these movement elements but also to illuminate the
underlying logic of the system. Discussion of the theory of movement harmony
drew upon close study of published and unpublished materials. My aim is to
present the theory of movement harmony clearly, as a plausible preliminary
explanation of the means through which the various elements of human
movement cohere in meaningful action.

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Future Horizons
Communicating Labans theory is only a first step. My real aim is to arouse
curiosity about these ideas; and beyond that, to encourage additional inquiry.
While Labans accomplishments are surely substantial, many constructs must
still be viewed as hypothetical. Thus there remain many avenues to be explored.
Serious reconsideration of Labans ideas needs to take into account their
historical, cultural, and philosophical bases. At the moment, Laban is still of
most interest to dance scholars. But there is a tendency for dance historians to
situate Laban as a historical figure in dance within the Expressionist/ modern
dance movement in central Europe between the two World Wars. This is too
narrow a frame of consideration. While Labans career in dance is bracketed
chronologically, his career as a movement theorist is not. Failure to consider
his initial career as a visual artist and his culminating movement studies in
industry, theatre, education, and psychotherapy can lead to a misapprehension
of the breadth of his work.
An additional difficulty with assessing Labans work arises from its
subsequent subdivision into various specialties. In the United States, for
example, Labanotation and Laban Movement Analysis are seen as separate
areas of study. A variety of different organizations exist to provide training and
to support the development and application of these two seemingly discrete
disciplines. While the notation and movement analysis communities overlap
to some degree, avenues for shared discourse and systematic cross-fertilization
of ideas are only beginning to be developed. Moreover, credentialing as a notator
or analyst has evolved as the purview of various independent training
organizations. Relegation of Labans work to a specialist credential has worked
against wider integration of his theory in movement disciplines.
This is particularly unfortunate, since the analytic and wholistic aspects of
Labans theories provide terminologies and concepts for the multi-lateral
description of movement as a dense and coherent form of human expression.
There is, in Labans work, the foundation for a general theory of human
movement that could be of value to the many disciplines that are obliged to
deal with this elusive phenomenon.
While Laban claimed that his theoretical formulations were based on
empirical data, this cannot be fully substantiated. Consequently, there is a need
to test Labans hypothetical formulations against fresh sets of natural data,
with the aim of verifying or amending the explanatory scheme. Video recording,
motion capture, and computer graphics provide some new technologies for

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examining movement that were not available to Laban. His grounded theory
processing of rich experiential data has generated many hypotheses that invite
further examination.
Here are several questions that may be immediately pursued. Do deflected
directions predominate in human movement? Are sequences or constellations
of movements organized around diagonal axes? Are choreographed and
improvised dances composed of fragments of the prototypic alphabet of spatial
forms identified by Laban? Is the law of proximity manifested in natural effort
sequences? Do knotted moods exist? If so, what is their spatial form? Are
there organic affinities between motion factors and prototypic spatial forms?
Can these be observed in complex movements that manifest around diagonal
trajectories? How would the concept of movement as surface alter perception
of spatial form? How might Labans topological explorations of movement
form be extended?
Of course, these questions enumerate only a few of the ways in which
Labans pioneering work might be carried forward. The disciplines of dance
and movement study have come a long way since 1913, when a little-known
Hungarian painter set his heart on the most despised profession in the world.
Nevertheless, there is still much to be done. Movement penetrates every human
endeavor; yet this omnipresent element of experience continues to be takenfor-granted. In daily life we move our bodies in fits and starts, sporadically
responding to passing needs and whims. If there is any pattern or meaning to
this nonverbal stuttering, it eludes us. Even dance, though more redundantly
patterned than everyday movement, continues to be regarded as an insubstantial
artone condemned by its transitory nature to remain intrinsically insignificant.
But what if this were not the case? What if human movement were a highly
patterned phenomenon, despite its ephemeral appearance? What if dance, like
its sister art, music, were to reveal an underlying, complex harmonic structure
based upon number and mathematical ratio? What if these kinetic harmonies
could be recorded, analyzed, and enhanced through conscious physical
performance?
These are the kinds of what ifs that drove the theoretical explorations
of Rudolf Laban and led him to dream that movement has an order and a
meaningful coherence. If his assertion that movement has a harmonic structure
analogous to music seems to be merely a poetic fiction or the stuff of dreams,
it is worth remembering that we need a dream world in order to discover the
features of the real world we think we inhabit.59 For as Bronowski points out,

307

every theory is an imaginative extension of our experience into realms which

we have not experienced. 60
It takes imagination to posit human movement as a patterned unity of space,
time and energy governed by harmonic laws. By framing movement in this
way, Laban has provided ways of thinking about a very elusive yet significant
phenomenon. The complexity of the task he so assiduously wrestled with
remains a challenge. His insightful hypotheses, taken seriously as grounded
observations, have the potential to deepen our understanding of movement as
an omnipresent and unifying dimension of human experience. This is no small
matter. For, as we come to understand more about the psychophysical
phenomenon of movement, we can come to a deeper comprehension of the
real world, which is mobility itself.61 With this recognition, reality no longer
appears then in the static state, in its manner of being; it affirms itself
dynamically, in the continuity and variability of its tendency. What was
immobile and frozen in our perception is warmed and set in motion. Everything
comes to life around us, everything is revivified in us.62

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Notes
11. Suzuki, Zen Mind, 25.
12. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/3/3, Laban Archive, NRCD.
13. Levin, Ontological Dimensions of Embodiment, 126.
14. Hanna, What Is Somatics? 342.
15. Ibid., 341.
16. Ibid., 342.
17. Ibid., 343.
18. Levin, Ontological Dimensions, 126.
19. Welton, Introduction, 4.
10. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/3/3, Laban Archive, NRCD.
11. Ibid.
12. Ibid.
13. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/38/6, Laban Archive, NRCD.
14. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/4/75, Laban Archive, NRCD.
15. Laban, Language of Movement, 27.
16. Ibid., 31.
17. Ibid.
18. Laban, manuscript, E(L)18/5, Laban Archive, NRCD.
19. Laban, Language of Movement, 111.
20. For instance, Warren Lamb has conducted thousands of interviews with
senior managers, studying effort/space relationships in their expressive
nonverbal behaviors. His studies show individually distinct patterns of
consonant and dissonant pairings. These differences are believed to
influence interaction style. See, Moore, Movement and Making Decisions,
86-90.
21. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/18/3, Laban Archive, NRCD.
22. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/18/7, Laban Archive, NRCD.
23. Ibid.
24. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/18/3, Laban Archive, NRCD.
25. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/15/64, Laban Archive, NRCD.
26. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/38/6, Laban Archive, NRCD.
27. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/15/70, Laban Archive, NRCD.
28. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/18/7, Laban Archive, NRCD.
29. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/4/46, Laban Archive, NRCD.
30. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/18/7, Laban Archive, NRCD.

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31. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/38/6, Laban Archive, NRCD.

32. Laban worked out a numerical code for corners of the icosahedron and
used this to denote a standard scale and its various harmonic intervals as
he correlated these with motion factors. The following unpublished
manuscripts were relevant to deciphering this way of representing effort/
shape affinities: E(L)/17/52, E(L)/17/44, E(L)/17/45, E(L)/17/46, E(L)/4/
46, and E(L)/4/47, Laban Archive, NRCD.
33. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/4/47, Laban Archive, NRCD.
34. Ibid.
35. Ibid.
36. Ibid.
37. Laban, Mastery of Movement, 69-70.
38. Hackney, Making Connections, 221.
39. Lamb, Framework for Labans Concepts, 19.
40. Bodmer, Harmonics in Space, 27-28.
41. Laban, manuscripts, E(L)/4/46; E(L)/4/47, Laban Archive, NRCD.
42. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/7/52, Laban Archive, NRCD.
43. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/17/44, Laban Archive, NRCD.
44. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/5/67, Laban Archive, NRCD.
45. Ibid.
46. Ibid.
47. Ibid.
48. Ibid.
49. Ibid.
50. Ibid.
51. Pickover, Mbius Strip, 82. This impossible shape was described by the
German mathematician Felix Klein in 1882.
52. Laban, manuscript, E(L)/5/67, Laban Archive, NRCD.
53. Kestenberg, Children and Parents; Kestenberg and Sossin, Role of
Movement Patterns.
54. Moore, Movement and Making Decisions, 40.
55. Bartenieff, Space, Effort, and Brain, 37.
56. Schatzman and Strauss, Field Research, 110.
57. Ibid., 111.
58. Auerbach and Silverstein, Qualitative Data, 84.
59. Feyerabend, Against Method, 22.

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60. Bronowski, Visionary Eye, 29.

61. Bergson, Creative Mind, 150.
62. Ibid., 157.

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Index
Action Drive, 162, 163, 165, 166,
168, 169
diagonal affinities, 172, 173-175,
179, 265
kinship of action moods, 176-178,
265
modulations of, 266-269
affinities, effort-space, 150, 171-172,
184n67, 206-207, 209, 284
angular correlations, 291-292
factors influencing, 174-175, 289291
gap in theory, 174-176, 288-289
linear correlations
dimensions, 172-173, 179
diagonals, 172, 173-175, 179
mature theory of, 214, 290, 292297
other experimental models, 282,
297-302
analogic metaphor, 5, 6, 188-189,
214, 263, 302
Appia, Adolphe, 19
architecture
of human body, 115-116, 126
symmetry in, 201-202
relation to dance, 202-204
Arp, Hans, 20
art academies, European, 14, 15, 61,
69, 70, 102n28
Art Nouveau, 2, 14, 15, 16, 62-63
ideology, 90-91
commitment to modernity, 91-92,
96

Art Nouveau (continued)

sources and stylistic features, 9293, 107n106, 107n112
ideological influence on Laban,
96-101.
See also empathy
Art of Movement Studio, 27, 28, 38
Art theory, 3
axial-skeletal technique, 70
foreshortening in figure drawing,
66, 67, 70, 87
See also empathy; proportion
asymmetry, 50, 247, 248, 276
awake state, 159, 165, 168, 272
balance, 122-123, 190, 195
as oscillation between opposites,
196-197, 268, 273
chordic tension, 123, 205
countertension, 51, 86, 123, 205
relation to gravity, 203, 204-205
relation to symmetry, 197, 198,
201
Ball, Hugo, 20, 104n63
Bergson, Henri, 138, 187
critique of photography, and
cinematography, 81-84
influence on choreutic theory and
notation, 84-85
intellect versus intuition, 83-84
privileged moments of movement,
88-90
Bereska, Dussia, 23
Bing, Siegfried, 15
body/mind relationship, 287-288

322
Bragaglia, Anton Giulio, 79-81, 90,
105n86
cardinal dimensions/directions, 113116, 120, 122, 129
central lines of motion, 124
effort affinities, 172-173
dimensional (defense) scale,
222-223
relation to stability, 115-116, 128,
130-131
cardinal planes, 116-117, 120, 126,
205, 230, 235, 241, 260n29
Carpenter, William, 29, 35n84
Champernowne, Irene and Gilbert,
28
chord. See harmony, musical terms
Choreographic Institute, 24, 37-38
Choreographie, 34n61, 37, 219, 221,
225, 226, 231
Choreutics,
defined, 142n5
taxonomy of, 140-141, 181
Choreutics, 35n73, 84, 106n87, 219,
220, 225, 231, 259n1
choreutic forms
oral tradition, 221-222, 223, 256257
rings, 133
four-rings (see cardinal planes;
tilted planes)
three-rings, peripheral (polar
triangles), 229, 236, 241, 242,
292, 294
three-rings, tranverse, 229, 241,
242, 292, 294
mixed seven-rings, 244-248
unpublished designs, 220
scales, movement, 219-220
A scale, 223-226, 241, 242

choreutic forms continued

axis (cluster) scale, 226-228,
233-234, 240, 242, 244-247
292, 294
B scale, 224-226, 241, 242
diagonal scale, 223
dimensional (defense) scale,
222-223
equator (girdle) scale, 226-228,
234, 236, 240, 242, 244-247
292, 295
standard scale (primary), 231242
Church, Esme, 28
congruence, 197-198, 250, 252
cube, 112, 113, 130, 210-213,
217n79, 218n84, 226, 277, 279
Action Drive affinities, 175, 265
law of proximity, 176-178
models of dynamosphere, 166-169,
210, 271
models of kinesphere, 117-118,
120
modulation, 266-271
diagonals, cubic, 117-118, 120, 122
axes of prototypic forms, 134-135,
225-226, 274-280, 290, 293
central lines of movement, 124
effort affinities, 173-175
relation to mobility, 117-118, 128,
131, 140
relation to planar diameters, 130
relation to zones of kinesphere,
135
diameters, planar, 122, 127, 242
axes of icosahedron, 117
central lines of motion, 124
relation to cardinal dimensions/
diagonals, 129-130, 233

323
dodecahedron, 46, 112, 194, 209,
210, 211, 212, 217n77-78, 218n84
dream state, 159, 165, 168, 272
Duchamp, Marcel, 79
Drer, Albrecht, 64, 67, 68, 69, 86,
87, 141, 194
dynamosphere, 159, 179
defined, 155
models of, 166-169, 176, 184n54,
207-210, 217n75, 280-282
relation to kinesphere, 155, 171,
181, 187 (see also affinities)
Eakins, Thomas A. , 76, 80
Effort, 28
effort, 147. See also Eukinetics;
eukinetic forms
affinities (see affinities, effortspace)
combinational analysis, 158-159,
179
complete efforts, 158, 169, 179,
282
drives, 158, 159, 161-169, 179
states, 158-161, 179
defined, 147, 151, 161, 183n46
development of theory, 147-150,
184n48
exertion/recuperation, 159, 165,
169-171, 179, 181
law of proximity, 176-178,
185n73, 205, 265, 270, 271-273
modulation, 263-271
motion factors, 150-153
fighting/indulging attitudes/
qualities, 151-155, 156, 170,
178, 269-271
phrasing, 178, 263, 271-273
psychological correlations, 155158, 162-166, 179

effort continued
relationship of states and drives,
165-169, 271-273
Elmhirst, Dorothy and Leonard, 26,
27, 34n72, 35n73, 38
empathy, theory of, 93-96, 203-204,
206
relation to abstract art, 98- 99
influence on Laban theory, 98-101
Endell, August, 94-96, 98, 100, 101,
203
Eukinetics, 4, 181. See also under
movement taxonomy
relation to effort, 147-150
eukinetic forms. See also hypercube;
lemniscates
eighteen-rings, 266-271, 273, 278,
279, 283
knots (nine-rings), 263, 273-278,
279, 283
shadow-forms, 281-282
twisted circles (six-rings), 263,
273, 278-280, 283-284
Euler circuits, 235, 259n2, 266
Fricke, Martha, 14, 16
Fuchs, Georg, 17
Fuller, Buckminster, 52, 60n33
Fuller, Loie, 15, 31n22
functions of consciousness, Jungian,
150
correlations with motion factors,
156-157, 179
Golden Section, 88, 106n100, 193,
210, 213
grounded theory, 40-41, 59n24
evaluating movement harmony as,
302-304
hypotheses arising from, 306-307

324
Guimard, Hector, 15
Gymnastik und Tanz, 34n61, 37
Hamiltonian circuits, 46, 51, 235,
236, 259n2, 260n28, 266, 297
harmony, movement, 1, 5-6, 26, 57,
100-101, 148, 149, 150, 188-190
elements, 255-258
balance, 195-197
individuality, 207
interrelationships, 204-207
ratio and proportion, 190-195
symmetry, 197-201
unity of form, 201-204
in physics, 201
working definition, 213-214
musical analogies, 214, 255-258
harmonic ratios, 190-192, 232233, 242
harmonic relationships, 292295, 296
interval, 232, 239-243
modulation, 205, 213, 263-273
scales, 51, 99, 100, 222-246
tones, 233-234, 238, 244-246
transposition, 248-255
harmony, musical terms and concepts
chord/chord progression, 263-264
chromatic scale, 231, 233, 241,
242, 244
development of Western scale,
232-233
diatonic scale, 243, 244-246
interval, 238-243
key, 244-246, 248-249, 250, 263,
264, 265
modulation, 263-264
octave, 190, 232, 248, 282
semi-tones, tempered, 233, 238
tetrachord, 244-245

harmony, musical terms and concepts

continued
transposition, 248-249
whole tones, 234
whole tone scales, 242
Hennings, Emmy, 20
Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 74
Huelsenbeck, Richard, 20
human proportion. See under
proportion
hypercube, 48, 208, 253, 263, 281282, 284
icosahedron, 45, 46, 50, 52, 88, 112,
116, 120, 126-128, 131, 135, 140,
207-213, 217n77-78, 218n84, 233238
individuality, 207, 256, 257
interrelationship of movement
elements, 190, 204-207. See also
affinities; law of proximity
body and space, 62, 73, 87-88,
126-128, 191-192, 237-238
effort and shape, 292-297
effort and space, 171-176, 206-207
interval, spatial and tonal, 239-243
Issacs, John D., 75
Jacopo de Barbari, 67
Jacques-Dalcroze, Emile, 19
Janco, Marcel, 20
Jooss, Kurt, 25, 26, 27
Jung, Carl Gustav, 150, 156
Kandinsky, Wassily, 17, 30n17,
32n28, 95, 101, 203
Kestenberg, Judith, 207
key. See harmony, musical terms
Kindes Gymnastik und Tanz, Des,
34n61, 38

325
kinesphere, 110-118, 120, 123-125,
140-141
analogous to sound sphere, 231233
center, 119, 124, 126-127, 136,
201
defined, 111
icosahedron as preferred model,
126-131
Platonic solids as models of, 112118, 207-210
relation to dynamosphere, 155,
171, 181, 187
zones of, 126, 135
Klein bottles, 48, 208, 253, 299, 300
knots. See under eukinetic forms
Laban Centre, 38
Laban, Rudolf
artworks, 42
archival source of, 2-5, 38, 41,
42, 44, 56
architectural sketches, 52-53
caricatures, 39, 54-55
figure drawings, 42-44, 62, 63,
70-73, 86-90
geometrical forms, 44-48
human and geometrical forms,
48-50, 57
landscapes, 53-54
portraits, 54
three-dimensional constructions,
50-52
biographical information, 1, 30n3,
31n24
art studies and career, 14-18, 2122, 42-43, 50, 61-63
dance career, 18-26
early interests, 11-13
educational work, 10, 27

Laban, Rudolf continued

family background, 10-11
industrial studies, 10, 27-28
research career, 29, 37-38
psychological studies, 10, 2829, 36n84
theatrical work, 28
books
Choreographie, 34n61, 37, 219,
221, 225, 226, 231
Choreutics, 35n73,84, 106n87,
219, 220, 225, 231, 259n1
Effort, 28
Gymnastik und Tanz, 34n61, 37
Kindes Gymnastik und Tanz,
Des, 34n61, 38
Language of Movement, The,
35n73, 106n87, 138, 274, 280,
282
Life for Dance, A, 11, 30n3
Mastery of Movement on the
Stage, The, 28
Modern Educational Dance,
35n77
Principles of Dance and
Movement Notation, 38
Schrifttanz, 24, 38
Vision of Dynamic Space, A,
60n31
Welt des Tnzers, Die, 22
Lamb, Warren, 28, 207, 308n20
Language of Movement, The, 35n73,
106n87, 138, 274, 280, 282
Lawrence, F.C. 27-28
law of proximity, 176-178, 179,
185n73, 263, 264-265
Lederer, Maja, 16, 21
Leeder, Sigurd, 26
lemniscates, 48, 51, 208, 253, 263,
280-281, 284, 299

326
Leonardo da Vinci, 64, 69, 71, 126,
141
concept of circular motion, 66-67,
68, 132, 239
second form of human body, 68,
73, 86
Life for Dance, A, 11, 30n3
lines of motion, 121, 123, 131
central, 124, 141
deflected, 128-131, 135, 140
peripheral, 125, 141
relation to stability and mobility,
128-131
transverse, 125, 141
transversal, 125, 144n34, 259n15
Lipps, Theodor, 93, 95
Littlewood, Joan, 28
Majsch, Eduard, 12
Marc, Franz, 17
Marey, Etienne-Jules, 75-76, 78, 79,
80, 81
Mastery of Movement on the Stage,
The, 28
mobility, 115, 117, 128-131, 140,
141, 196, 273
mobile state, 159-160, 165, 168, 272
modern art movements, 2, 42, 62, 79.
See also Art Nouveau; nonrepresentational art
Dada, 20-21, 33n46, 79
Expressionism, abstract, 16,
33n46, 203
Futurism, 33n46, 79-81, 96,
104n62-63
Modern Educatonal Dance, 35n77
modulation, 205, 213, 263-273
motion factors. See under effort
movement
analysis, 1, 5, 187-188

movement continued
choir, 23, 25, 33n56, 35n76
notation, 1, 9, 18, 23, 24, 37, 51,
61, 62, 73, 85, 96, 100
development of, 109, 135-138,
142n3, 148
direction of gestures, 136-137,
138
direction symbols, 118-121
effort symbols, 153-155
floor plan, 110
motion versus destination, 137139
representation of time, 90
systems of reference, 137
taxonomy, 1, 5-6, 109-110, 140141, 147, 178-181
choreutic elements of, 109-139
eukinetic elements of, 147-178
thinking, 271, 280
Meisenbach, Jo, 21
Meissonier, Ernest, 76
Mylius, Adolf, 11
Muybridge, Eadweard, 74-77, 80,
88-89, 103n37
National Resource Centre for Dance,
2, 38, 41, 42
National Socialists (Nazis), 22, 25,
26, 34n67-68
naturalistic research, 40, 59n24
navel center of body, 126-128, 136,
140, 201
near (rhythm) state, 159, 165, 168,
272
non-representational art, 94-96, 101
Obrist, Hermann, 14, 31n19, 94-95,
100, 101

327
octahedron, 112, 113-115, 120,
184n54, 211, 212, 218n84
dual uses as model, 207-210
effort affinities, 172-173
transposition, 252, 254
octave. See harmony, musical terms
Oedenkoven, Henri, 18
organic deflection hypothesis, 128129
Passion Drive, 162-163, 165, 166,
168, 269-270, 272
Perrottet, Suzanne, 19, 20, 31n24
phi. See Golden Section
Phidias, 193
photography, 61-62
artists reactions, 76-78
chronophotography, 75
early attempts to capture
movement, 73-76
influence on avant-garde artists,
78-81
planes. See cardinal planes;
tilted planes
Platonic solids, 112-113, 217n79
dual uses as models, 4, 207-208,
217n75, 282-283
in Labans artworks, 44-52, 86-90
models of kinesphere, 112-120,
140, 143n10, 207-210
models of dynamosphere, 166-169,
176, 184n54, 207-210
proportional interrelationships,
210-213, 218n84-85-86
plumb line of gravity, 115, 117, 119,
121, 122, 140, 204
Polyclitus, 64, 65
polygons, 239, 243. See also under
shape; trace-forms

Principles of Dance and Movement

Notation, 38
proportion, 62, 63-64. See also ratio
applied to movement study, 86-90,
126-128, 190-195, 201-203, 213
interrelationships of Platonic
solids, 210-213
representation of human figure,
63-69
geometrical devices used in, 6568, 126, 193-195
numerical ratios, 64-65, 70,
190-193
traditional canon, 65, 69, 192
traditional canon in Labans
figure drawings, 70-73, 192
Pythagoras, 64, 190, 232
range of motion, 46, 62, 73, 87-88,
128, 131, 140, 191-192, 207, 237238
ratio, 63. See also proportion
Golden Section, 88, 106n100, 193
harmonic ratios, 64, 190-191, 210213, 232-233
whole number ratios, 64-65, 190192
Remington, Frederic, 76
remote state, 159, 165, 166, 167,
168, 272
research
authors methodologies, 2-5
Labans methodology, 37-41,
55-58, 59n24, 179-180, 302
(see also analogic metaphor;
grounded theory)
Reuss, Theodor, 21
Rodin, Auguste, 77-78, 86
rhythm, 202-204

328
rhythmic circles. See under shape;
trace-forms
rings. See under choreutic forms;
eukinetic forms
Savage, Henri, 15
Schrifttanz, 24, 38
Schlee, Alfred, 24
scales. See under choreutic forms;
harmony, movement; harmony,
musical terms
Sendlein, Antoine, 11
shape
affinity to motion factors, 293-296
formal elements of line, 131-132,
138, 139
modes of shape change, 138-139
polygonal rings, 132-134, 141
shape qualities, 139
spatial tension, 121-123, 141. See
also under balance
Spell Drive, 164, 165-168, 272
stable state, 159, 160-161, 165-166,
167, 168, 272
stability, 115-116, 128-131 140, 141,
196, 273, 274
Stanford, Leland, 74, 75
symmetry, 50, 57, 123, 197-198,
200-201, 202, 222-229, 248
symmetry operations, 47, 57, 198,
248, 249, 267
glide reflection, 200, 229, 236,
249
reflection, 198, 222, 223, 224,
228, 249
retrograde motion, 200, 224, 228
rotation, 199, 226, 249-250
translation, 199, 249
Tauber, Sophie, 20

tetrachord. See under harmony,

musical terms
tetrahedron, 112-113, 184n54, 208,
209, 210-213, 218n84
tilted planes, 219, 230-231, 274-275,
292, 295
tones. See under harmony, musical
terms
topology, 219, 250
manipulation of shape, 47, 48, 51,
250-251
homeomorphism, 251, 252, 254
relation to motor control, 255
transposition of choreutic forms,
250-255
transposition of eukinetic forms,
276-277, 278-279
trace-forms, 46, 85, 86, 88, 98, 141
as generic shapes, 131-132, 138139
as polygons, 87, 89, 132-133, 194195, 239-241
style of embodiment, 136
transposition, 214, 248-255
Tzara, Tristan, 20
Ullmann, Lisa, 26, 27, 28, 35n73,
35n75, 38, 41, 56, 60n31
unity of form, 201-204, 221, 256
Villard de Honnecourt, 67
Vischer, Robert, 93
Vision Drive, 163-164, 165, 166,
167, 168, 272
Vision of Dynamic Space, A., 60n31
visual arts, 9, 61, 126, 132, 192. See
also architecture; Art Nouveau; art
theory; modern art movements;
non-representational art;
photography

329
Vitruvius, 64, 65-66, 201
Wedekind, Frank, 17, 32n33, 104n63
Welt des Tnzers, Die, 22
Wigman, Mary, 19, 20, 23, 25, 27,
35n75
Winterstein, Otto, 12
Wlfflin, Heinrich, 93-94, 203
Worringer, Wilhelm, 99