ELEMENTS OF TOPOLOGY IN THE ARCHITECTURAL PLAN 1

Douglas Aguiar
UFRGS, Federal University of Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil
USyd, University of Sydney, Australia (visiting scholar)

Abstract
At times when the computer aided design is capable of producing an infinite
array of astounding images, it seems bizarre that someone still takes time to
write about the architectural plan, such an apparently commonsense, if not trivial,
spatial description. Yet my concern in producing a recollection of the properties
and meanings embedded in the architectural plan is linked and in fact a
consequence of what is going on at the moment in the architectural discipline,
when the technological imagery produced out of what has been called digital
architecture, has revealed, in parallel to the production of rather exotic
architectural forms, an increasing detachment from the spatial experience of
architecture and moreover an almost generalized lack of concern with the
insertion of the body into the architectural equation. The argument given in what
follows is intended to set up a recollection of the topological properties of the
architectural plan in the operative domain of the discipline. More than its
acknowledgement as a basic element in the definition of geometrical order, it is
intended in what follows to reinstate the value of the plan as a crucial element in
the understanding of the experiential dimension of architecture.
Things in Relation
While geometry is clearly visible, it has a form, it is seen in points, lines and
surfaces, topology is less visible; or invisible. Topology is in fact hidden in spatial
relationships. The architectural plan is an explicit geometric description that
carries an implicit topological description. While geometry is, topology refers to.
Geometry is local; it is the thing itself. Topology refers to the same thing yet it
happens in relation to, or as a part of, or as embedded at. Topology implies
1

th

Paper presented in the 37 Australian & New Zealand architectural Science Association (ANZAScA) conference,
Faculty of Architecture, University of Sydney, 2003.

relationships; either local or between the local and the global. Topology tends to
be systemic; all parts tend to affect all parts. Topology, says the classical
definition, refers to spatial properties that are unaffected by changes of shape
and size. Topology so implies fractality; similar spatial relationships happen at
different scales or still, the same spatial relationships are found in different forms
or shapes. An enlargement of the concept may regard topology as the study of
spatial configuration in general or still, the study of spatial relationships. Spatial
forms, both at the architectural and at the urban scale, are so essentially
topological. This topological essence makes spatial configuration - the mode of
arrangement of things naturally determinant in peoples spatial behavior. That
is to say, and this is central in all that follows, the performance of buildings and
urban settings is a consequence of topological features. Performance in the
current context means the way buildings work in relation to peoples spatial
needs. So, it may be said from the point of view of people, or from the
perspective of the body, the management of space is essentially topological. This
is where the architectural plan enters as a central description of human spatial
behavior. The plan contains the movement of the bodies and such movement
happens according to topological relations. It seems appropriate, at this point, a
reminder of the well known insight of Robin Evans on this subject: If anything is
described by an architectural plan it is the nature of human relationships, since
the elements whose trace it records walls, doors, windows and stairs are
employed first to divide and then selectively to re-unite inhabited space (Evans,
1978).2
Ambiguous Drawing
Yet the architectural plan inspires mixed fillings. It has been seen with some
discomfort inside the discipline as it entails a paradox; yet it describes space it
does it in a a-spatial way; a two dimensional way. The difficulties with the plan
description are particularly noticed at the stage of the architectural training when
students are often encouraged to have an image of the whole before arriving at
2

Evans, R. Figures, Doors and Passages, in Architectural Design 4/1978, pp.267 278.

the parts and moreover before arriving at the plan description of an unforeseen
totality. Yet students often do not resist the temptation of starting the design
process from a plan description. And tutors will often hurry in pointing the traces
of what could be labeled as plantism i.e. the inconsequent drawing in plan that
disregards the three-dimensional aftermaths; so the plan seems to have a sort of
unfortunate stigma at the schools of architecture.
Moreover the uncomfortable position of the plan inside the architectural
discourse is particularly noticed in the more intellectualized circuits where
architecture assumes an art status that is usually more concerned with image. In
this case the almost generalized lack of concern with the architectural plan is
certainly tied to its abstract character. Many are not capable of reading a plan
and assume a defensive position by reducing it to a mere technical device; a
guide for construction where measurements and specifications are given. The
difficulty of reading social and spatial behavior in the architectural plan seems to
be generalized. Surprisingly it transcends the laymen and more than often
includes the specialist, the architect, the one that should have such a insight as
its expertise. This sort of blindness is linked to the public image that the discipline
of architecture carries; an image that tends to be associated with spectacle and
is often detached from spatial experience. Buildings are mostly recognized and
praised by virtue of their presence, image and style. Spatiality counts little and
even less the way buildings are used. The misreading, inadequate reading or
non reading of the architectural plan seems to play a strong role in the
generalized misunderstanding of the topological essence of architecture.
A Virtual Description
The architectural plan is a compressed description of the human spatial behavior.
The power of the architectural plan lies in its synthesis. It endows the observer,
the architect, with a superpower; the capacity of seeing simultaneously a set of
spaces that would otherwise be impossible to be encompassed by the eyesight.
The plan is both real and unreal. It is graphically real yet from the standpoint of
spatial experience, it is unreal. From the point of view of the use of space the

plan is an instrument of virtuality. The multiple spatial sequences that can be

envisaged in any set of architectural spaces are there compressed. Nevertheless
only the trained eye is capable of grasping the serial vision by reading the
architectural plan (Cullen, 1961) 3. As Cullen suggests, from the standpoint of the
observer there is always an existing view and an emerging view; a condition of
permanent virtuality. An unfolding sequence of images available to the moving
observer is inherent to the architectural plan. Cullen approximates these
virtualities in his diagrams. So the plan is an instrument of simultaneity; a spacetime description and as such it naturally embodies a description of movement.
Invisible Effects: Concept and Experience
The architectural plan is a spatial description that sets up two kinds of order. The
first, and most conspicuous, is geometrical order. It is based upon regularity /
irregularity and repetitiousness / non repetitiousness of lines, points, surfaces
and solids. The second is topological order. It is given in the pattern of movement
i.e. by the set of pathways generated by the architectural plan. Topological order
reveals the way buildings are utilized or apprehended both by regular users, its
inhabitants, and also by occasional users, the visitors. It is known from
experience that topological order defines the spatial features that will make
architectural space more or less intelligible for its users. Every man made spatial
arrangement will have an inherent system of routes that gives support to the
immense variety of events that constitute human life.
I shall take one step further the description of these two orders by referring
them as the order of concepts and order of experiences i.e. the intellectual
dimension of architecture and the way space is or will be actually used (Tschumi,
1995). The order of concepts is expressed by means of geometry. It is visible in
the plan while described by means of walls and furniture. The order of spatial
experience is invisible yet it is (supposed to be) consequent to the position of
walls and furniture. However this often does not seem to be the case. As
Tschumi has pointed out there is a sort of internal contradiction in architecture; a
3

Cullen, G. (1961). Townscape. London : Architectural Press, p. 11.

sort of natural (?) contradiction between the concept of space and the experience
of space. Bodies are often undisciplined and tend to behave differently from the
programmed.

Yet this contradiction is historical, it has been dramatically

exacerbated in current times when the body seems to have lost space in the
architectural equation. Function, zoning, organization, geometry, technology and
spectacle have replaced bodily experience in architecture.
The architectural plan, yet is a conceptual description yet it carries
implicitly the movement of the body. The opposition between the concept of
space and the experience of space brings about what we may call the invisible
effects or in other words the unpredictable performance of buildings and urban
settings. This is often the consequence of a misreading of the architectural plan;
geometry seems to be under control yet not the movement of the bodies.
Architecture can perform either positively, so helping people in their spatial
needs, or negatively, so making difficult peoples relationship with the physical
world. Yet the assumption that the essence of architecture is the positive
structuring of society and the physical world cannot be taken straightforward as if
the appropriate architectural answer is to be found in a relentless search of a
straight matching between the concept of space (form) and the experience of
space (use). In fact the making of architecture in a purposeful way means that
the concept adopted is bound to help the experience of space by adding up
something that is more than the originally acknowledged use. It is under these
conditions that architecture may be regarded as a social art and it is from this
perspective that the relationship between body and plan must be taken.
Bodies in Movement
Behind the geometrical surface the architectural plan hides a topological essence
that dictates the movement of the body in space. The presence of the body, and
more precisely, of the moving body, is natural in architectural plan. The
acknowledgement of man the moving body - as central in the architectural plan

follows a natural concern of architecture with the routines of life.4 Man, the body,
individual and collective bodies, are at the center of any spatial concern; . . .
there is no unmoving mover behind the movement. It is not correct to say that life
is moving, but life is movement itself . . . life and movement are not two different
things5.

Buildings, and urban settings, are containers of movement; moving

bodies. The vast majority of the production of architectural theory is devoted to

the nature of style, its geometric features, etc. This is surprising, and somewhat
paradoxical the unawareness of the movement of the bodies in architecture and,
still more uncanny, inside the architectural plan since plans are natural
movement predictors.
Architecture has a static tradition yet movement is its underlying essence.
The problem is that the description of the nature of movement itself defies
imagination. Early at the beginning of the nineteenth century Balzac has provided
us with a precious insight on the rather volatile nature of the concept of
movement, in the words of Planchette, a celebrated professor of mechanics: . . .
the whole science rests upon a single fact. You see this ball? Here it lies upon
this slab. Now it is over there. What name shall we give to what has taken place,
so natural from a physical point of view, so amazing from a moral? Movement,
locomotion, changing of place? What prodigious vanity lurks underneath the
words . . . Everything is movement, thought itself is a movement, and upon
movement nature is based. Death is a movement whose limitations are little
known. If God is eternal, be sure that he moves perpetually; perhaps God is
movement. That is why movement, like God, is inexplicable, unfathomable,
unlimited, incomprehensible, intangible . . . (movement) requires space, even as
we, and what is space? Movement alone recalls it to us; without movement,
space is but an empty meaningless word. Like space, like creation, like the
infinite, movement is an insoluble problem which confounds human reason; man

My concern with the body is essentially architectural and distinct from the sociological concern with
people; yet these terms, and the concepts they refer and relate, may occasionally be superimposed.
5
Rahula, W. (1959). What the Buddha Taught, London: Gordon Fraser, p. 26.

will never conceive it, whatever else he may be permitted to conceive.6 The
congruence between the concepts of movement and space lead us to the
essence of the architectural plan. By describing spatial configuration the
architectural plan sets up the awareness of the related patterns of movement i.e.
peoples spatial behavior and ultimately the spatial essence of peoples lives.
Why is it then that the movement of the bodies is relegated to a secondary role in
architectural composition and at large in architectural theory?
The lack of concern on the movement of bodies in architectural theory is
reflected in an almost generalized misreading of the experiential, or bodily,
dimension of the architectural plan: The philosophical alienation of the body from
the mind has resulted in the absence of embodied experience from almost all
contemporary theories of meaning in architecture. The overemphasis on
signification and reference in architectural theory has led to a construal of
meaning as an entirely conceptual phenomenon. Experience, as it relates to
understanding, seems reduced to a matter of the visual registration of coded
messages a function of the eye which might well rely on the printed page and
dispense with the physical presence of architecture altogether. The body, if it
figures into architectural theory at all, is often reduced to and aggregate of needs
and constrains which are to be accommodated by methods of design grounded
in behavioral and ergonomic analysis. Within this framework of thought, the body
and its experience do not participate in the constitution and realization of
architectural meaning.7
Barriers, Passages and Pathways
The acknowledgement of movement as the essence at the root of the concept of
architectural space allow us a further insight; by means of the reduction of all
architecture to an assemblage of barriers and passages. For operative purposes
all architecture, both at the building scale and at the urban scale, can be reduced
6

Balzac, H. (1831/1977). The Wild Ass's Skin (La Peau de Chagrin). Harmondsworth ; New York :
Penguin, pp. 205-206.
7
Gartner, S. (1990). The Corporeal Imagination: The Body as the Medium of Expression and
Understanding in Architecture, in The Architecture of the In-Between: The Proceedings of the 1990
ACSA Annual Conferece, San Francisco.

to a physical set composed essentially by barriers and passages. The

architectural plan is so essentially a description of barriers and passages.
Barriers are all the obstacles to free movement; these obstacles may be reduced
to walls and furniture in its most varied modes. The position of the barriers
defines naturally the position of passages and, in consequence, the system of
routes that permeates and feeds architectural space. In this context bodies not
only move but also generate spaces by means of their movements (Tschumi,
1995)8. As such a route is a dynamic portion of space. This route description of
movement yet synthetic is in itself peoples spatial life and may be regarded as
the experiential essence of architecture. Such a feature seems to coincide both
at the scale of buildings, where the positioning of walls and furniture (barriers)
produces naturally a set of routes, as at the urban scale where the position of
built forms also sets up the position of a set of routes.
Bodies and Axes
From the standpoint of the body, the step is the minimal unit, the ultimate
reduction, of human movement in space. The step is a line that links two
footprints. Naturally, bodies do not move in zigzags but in straight lines. Paths
are so, in their ultimate reduction, sets of straight lines. And bodies move along
these segments of straight lines. Bodies move along axes9. The movement of
man on the surface the planet naturally happens along axes. Even when the path
is curvilinear it is, ultimately reduced, a sequence of inflected axes, being the
step the ultimate reduction. This is why axiality is central in the architectural
discipline; . . . an axis is perhaps the first human manifestation; it is the means of
every human act. The toddling child moves along an axis, the man striving in the
tempest of life traces for himself an axis. The axis is the regulator of architecture
10

. What seems to be central in these words of Le Corbusier is the concern with

Tschumi, B. Architecture and Disjunction, MIT Press, Cambridge, Mass, 1995, p.123.

Axis, in architecture, is often associated with monumentality, hierarchy or symmetry; the Roman axes of
Sixtus V, the Parisian Boulevards and so on. This is not the meaning intended here as it is certainly not the
meaning aimed in the words of Le Corbusier given above.
10
Le Corbusier (1931). Towards a New Architecture, London: J. Rodker, p.187.

the straight line i.e. that bodies move in straight lines, that the movement of the
bodies in space follows axial lines of unimpeded visibility and accessibility. The
description of axiality is so a description of movement that once extended to the
realm of peoples spatial behavior allows for the statement that any (and all)
arrangement is the grading of axes, and so it is the grading of aims, the
classification of intentions11. On this axiom seems to lie the essence of the
architectural plan; being the gradation of axes the configuration guide and the
gradation of aims the social counterpart that brings about the event. This is what
the architectural plan in essence describes. So, conceptually, path is
synonymous to movement. The set of routes bodies perform collectively inside
buildings, at the streets, at the parks, all configure a large, a vast planimetric
system. The presence of man on the surface of the planet sets up a gigantic set
of routes, the carrier, the large system, the whole.
Inflexions and Deformed Grids
Insofar as bodies move the network is configured; a topological network. The
network of pathways includes in its topological forms all geometries. When a
body in movement changes its direction the path is inflected. At that moment the
axis is transformed in two axes. Another axis is created out of that single
inflection. The topology of the path is so described by means of the recurrence
of inflections. An inflection is an articulation; it implies a change both in visibility
and in accessibility. The inflection or articulation is, topologically, the central unity
in the description of the network of paths. And this information is all compressed
in the plan description.

In topology the inflexion is the descriptive core; the

inflection, the articulation, the fold and the unfold (Deleuze, 2001)12. Paths unfold.
Reality unfolds. A path is the recurrent unfolding of virtuality into reality. This is
how the network of paths happens, takes shape. It assumes the form of a

11

ibid. p.187.
Deleuze, G. The Fold Leibniz and the Baroque, in Cristina, G. (2001). The Topological Tendency in
Architecture. In Giuseppa Di Cristina (Ed.) Architecture and Science, Chichester : Wiley-Academy, pp. 3943.
12

deformed grid

13

. The movement of bodies that covers the planet happens

typically and naturally by means of deformed grids. The grid is essentially a plan
description. The deformed grid is natural in architecture. It has happened at
different scales and at different times of history. Ancient houses, patio houses in
different cultures, and ancient towns, grid-like configured, have a similar plan
description where the grid is an integration device and, moreover, an accessibility
device.
Gradations of accessibility: Integration and Segregation
Accessibility is a natural condition given by any spatial distribution. As such the
architectural plan is a natural record of spatial accessibility. From the
architectural point of view accessibility is a potentiality any space carries; a
potentiality for being reached by people, either more of less directly, in
consequence of its relative position as embedded in a larger system of routes,
either building or urban setting. The mode of arrangement of a plan defines a
system of pathways naturally endowed with gradations of accessibility. The plan
produces naturally a sort of rank of accessibility. As a consequence spatial
distribution is always a distribution of either spatial integration or spatial
segregation, with a variety of gradations of accessibility in between. Spaces that
are more accessible tend to be naturally the ones most passed through. They are
common sense called integrated or integrating routes or paths. The routes less
accessible by virtue of their more secluded position in the spatial distribution will
be naturally less passed through. Plans are so devices for distributing both
spatial integration and spatial segregation. Bodies / people will naturally look for
both at different times and situations. Any plan has, by virtue of its spatial
configuration, has a core. The core is materialized along the most integrating
routes and is the set of most utilized spaces in a plan. Integration cores, both in
buildings and in urban settings tend to carry the more collective or more public
activities. In contrast, spaces endowed with less accessibility tend to carry
activities that will require a higher degree of privacy or segregation. So
13

Hillier, B. and Hanson, J. The Social Logic of Space, Cambridge, University Press, Cambridge, 1984.

10

gradations of accessibility bring about what we may describe as topological

order; an order that should underlie geometric order. The concept of topological
order is so given by the way a spatial distribution in plan is in tune with the
gradations of accessibility.
In architecture such gradations of spatial accessibility and the related
patterns of movement should happen in agreement with the programmed
distribution of activities. Space shall help the event. Architectural programs carry
in themselves the intention of ordering needs and ambitions inherent to the
human activities. Activities, by their very nature, are either more or less
demanding of accessibility. Nevertheless it is not uncommon that we experience
buildings or urban settings where the logic of the distribution of activities clashes
frontally against the logic of accessibility and fruition; it is so incompatible with the
spatial logic that arises naturally from the gradations of accessibility. This can
happen and frequently happens both in commercial buildings and also in
residential or institutional buildings; buildings that are quite well gifted in
technology and aesthetics yet they do not work.
On Notation: Topological Descriptions
Attempts to describe the topological dimension of architecture are not recent.
Different authors at different times have done it yet it seems that for most of the
literature concerned the topological descriptions so proposed tend to be, as
expected, pale imitations of a much more complex reality. So, the suggestion that
if the spatial sequence implies the movement of an observer then such
movement can be mapped and formalized sequentially' (Tschumi, 1995)14 seems
one much easier to be proposed than to be made effective. Nevertheless the
effort of producing topological descriptions of architecture has happened at
different times by different people; all concerned with the experiential dimension
of architecture. A short recollection of these efforts seems to be worth in current
times when the architecture of spectacle is outstandingly dominant and the

14

Tschumi, B. Architecture and Disjunction, MIT Press, Cambridge, Mass, 1995, p.162.

11

domain of spatial experience seems to be relegated to a second or third plan; far

behind image and technology.
The topological inquiry seems to be common practice still early in the
nineteenth century at the schools of architecture. At the starting point of his
tutorials at the French School of Beaux-Art, Julien Guadet, used to ask the
student to introduce its project by proceeding with la marche i.e., by describing
the bodily experience given by the architectural plan (Corona Martinez, 1990). So
the notion of gradations of accessibility as a spatial structuring element seems to
be basic in the teaching method then used; as it seems to inherit from the
baroque the sequential mode of ordering spaces. The passing through the spatial
sequence, that is called la marche, and its analysis implies in identifying whether
or not the building has a good passing through or, whether the fruition through its
spatial sequences would result in a pleasant experience, whatever that is

15

. In

the modernist period the concept of architectural promenade is a basic element

in the spatial structuring both in Le Corbusier and in other masters. The well
known diagram that explains the frictionless living house by Alexander Klein
shows, already in 1928, a description of the architectural space by means of
synthetic notations that represent lines of movement. And during this century
many authors have worked and others go on working in this line. This is the
case of Pikionis (1937) that introduces the concept of what he has called the
architecture of movement. This is also the case of Cullen (1961) with the socalled serial vision, Appleyard and Lynch (1964) with their sequence diagrams,
Anderson (1978) with his base graphs, Hertzberger (1992) with the already
mentioned gradations of accessibility. Hertzberger suggests in this respect that .
. . by marking the gradations of accessibility of the different areas and parts of a
building on a ground plan a sort of map showing territorial differentiation will be
obtained. This map will show clearly which aspects of accessibility exist in the

15

Corona Martinez, A. Ensayo sobre el proyecto, Kliczkowski Publisher, Buenos Aires 1990, pp. 200
201.

12

architecture as such . . . so that these forces may be intensified (or attenuated) in

the further elaboration of the plan16.
The axial map (Hillier and Hanson, 1984) has extended the limits of
topological research by offering a system-like description; the set of lines of
movement that cover the totality of the plan is described as a spatial system. This
description of the plan as system of routes - a system of lines of movement propitiates an analysis of the architectural space explicitly based upon gradations
of accessibility. The set of routes given by the plan - derived from the positioning
of walls and furniture - is decomposed in straight line segments, lines of
unimpeded visibility and accessibility. These lines are graphically represented as
axial lines; discreet and dynamic spatial entities. The decomposition of the
continuity of the route network in the discontinuity/fragmentation of the axial map
allows for a quantitative assessment of the gradations of accessibility. Each axial
line is both a pathway, or part of it, and a portion of space. Pathways - same as
spaces - articulate themselves by means of inflexions i.e. changes in direction.
From an spatial point of view - topologically oriented - the description of the
degree of recurrence of inflexions is an essential element for the description of
the gradations of accessibility. Each inflexion is a spatial step. The long axis puts
integration in evidence; the natural superimposition of straight accessibility and
visibility. Inflexions, on the contrary, segregate, step by step. Grids synthesize in
themselves these two morphological modes; they integrate by axiality and
segregate by means of successive and abrupt orthogonal inflexions. And this
seems to be the essential mechanism followed by human spatial organizations;
all derived from the descriptive effectiveness of the architectural plan.
Plan and Body
The description of the plan by means of its lines of movement seems to be a
breakthrough. It allows for a synthetic visualization of a pattern of fruition of the
body in architecture. Such a mode of fruition is natural to any spatial
16

Hertzberger, H. Lessons for Students of Architecture, Uitgeverij 010 Publishers, Rotterdam 1991, p.21

13

arrangement and when architecture is adequately thought, function makes use of

gradations of accessibility in order to make itself evident, clear. Buildings and
urban settings carry social and cultural information in their spatial configuration
and when the building is properly designed the system of routes tends to
articulate a compatible distribution of activities. Function tends to be naturally
shown in the resulting spatial arrangement of the lines of movement; spatial
sequences tend to provide such intelligibility. It is then said that the space works,
it is intelligible, it allows for a clear apprehension; architecture helps the body. It
is all given and foreseen in the architectural plan once one can read it properly.
It is known from experience and also from research that configuration
changes affect strongly the pattern of movement of the bodies in space.17 In fact
the intensity in the use of spaces, which may be ultimately an indication either
the success or the failure of a building, seems to be entirely dependent on the
configuration dimension. As Hillier suggests . . . this is not an effect of the
building on individuals, but a system effect from the spatial structure of the
building on the probabilistic distribution of people.18

People's mental or

perceptual state does not matter here. What matters in this case are the laws of
the object which materialize a sort of natural movement that is simply based
upon the economy in the selection of routes. Again, this is all given in the
architectural plan and, moreover, in the superimposition of plan and lines of
movement.
The set of concepts presented above does not have the ambition of
setting up a guide of spatial efficiency, although it aims at reminding architects,
professionals of space, of the crucial role of the (paradoxically) invisible
movement of the bodies in architecture as discussed above. Such a feature is
frequently sublimated although it eventually decides the way space is used and,
furthermore, whether or not the resulting pattern of movement is in agreement
with the intentions and demands of the program. When these features are

17
18

Hillier, B. et al. Natural Movement in Environment and Planning B, volume 20, 1993, pp. 29 66.
Hillier, B. Space is the Machine, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge 1996, p. 392.

14

assessed at an early stage - still at the design phase - changes still can be made
in order to improve the spatial performance of future architectural settings.
References
Balzac, H. (1831/1977). The Wild Ass's Skin (La Peau de Chagrin).
Harmondsworth ; New York : Penguin,
Corona Martinez, A. (1990) Ensayo sobre el proyecto, Kliczkowski Publisher,
Buenos Aires.
Cullen, G. (1961). Townscape. London : Architectural Press.
Deleuze, G. (2001) The Fold Leibniz and the Baroque, in Cristina, G.. The
Topological Tendency in Architecture. In Giuseppa Di Cristina (Ed.)
Architecture and Science, Chichester : Wiley-Academy, pp. 39-43.
Evans, R. (1978). Figures, Doors and Passages, in Architectural Design 4/,
pp.267 278.
Gartner, S. (1990). The Corporeal Imagination: The Body as the Medium of
Expression and Understanding in Architecture, in The Architecture of the InBetween: The Proceedings of the 1990 ACSA Annual Conferece, San
Francisco.
Hillier, B. and Hanson, J. (1984) The Social Logic of Space, Cambridge,
University Press, Cambridge.
Hillier, B. et al. (1993). Natural Movement in Environment and Planning B,
volume 20.
Hillier, B. (1996). Space is the Machine, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.
Le Corbusier (1931). Towards a New Architecture, London: J. Rodker.
Rahula, W. (1959). What the Buddha Taught, London: Gordon Fraser.
Tschumi, B. (1995) Architecture and Disjunction, MIT Press, Cambridge, Mass.

15