Experiencing Space Beyond Floors: Raumplan and the Phenomenology of Architectural Movement

“The real dwelling plight lies in this, that mortals ever search anew for the essence of dwelling, that they must ever learn to dwell.” Heidegger’s words remind us that architecture is not just about structure or form, but about how we live within space, how we inhabit, move, and feel (Heidegger, 2001, pp. 163–164). Space is not fully revealed in a plan or elevation; it is discovered through bodily movement, perception, and presence. In this context, phenomenology in architecture provides a framework for understanding how spaces are lived, emphasizing the role of the body, the senses, and memory in shaping experience (Pallasmaa, 2012). Phenomenology shifts the focus from static forms to temporal, sensory, and emotional encounters, and in this exploration, Adolf Loos’s Raumplan becomes a powerful conceptual tool. Raumplan organizes space hierarchically in three dimensions, where volumes, levels, and circulation paths create a sequence of lived experiences rather than merely a formal arrangement of rooms (Loos, 1930).

The concept of Raumplan is essential for this study because it links formal design with bodily experience. As Frampton notes, Raumplan is more than a geometric strategy; it structures how spaces are perceived, guiding movement, vision, and engagement with the environment . Through its interrelated spatial levels, the inhabitant perceives hierarchy, intimacy, and expansiveness simultaneously. Villa Müller in Prague (1930) exemplifies the original logic of Raumplan. Loos arrange rooms at subtly different levels, where living spaces rise above private rooms, and small staircases create transitions that are perceptible and felt through the body. While Villa Müller is important conceptually, it is Villa Shodhan and Sangath that demonstrate how Raumplan can operate as a fully phenomenological framework, integrating movement, sensory experience, light, materiality, and climate (Pallasmaa, 2012). By tracing these spatial sequences in Villa Shodhan and Sangath, we can observe how architecture transforms from a static object into a lived condition, where each room, corridor, ramp, terrace, or courtyard becomes an experiential moment.

Villa Shodhan, designed by Le Corbusier in Ahmedabad between 1951 and 1956, exemplifies this interplay. From the entry platform, the visitor’s perception is immediately oriented to verticality and light. The threshold sets the tone for a spatial narrative: one senses hierarchy, anticipation, and movement before even entering the house (Basu, 2015). As one steps into the foyer, glimpses of the double-height living room above establish a layered perception of space. Here, Raumplan is visible in the subtle interplay of horizontal planes and vertical relationships.

The living room, the heart of Villa Shodhan, is a double-height volume that forms a visual and social anchor. Sunlight streams through brise-soleil screens, producing shifting patterns of light and shadow across the textured concrete surfaces. The inhabitant perceives space not only visually, but also through temperature, airflow, and acoustics. The room opens onto a terrace, blurring boundaries between interior and exterior, and producing a continuous experience of space that extends into the surrounding environment (Pallasmaa, 2005; Zumthor, 2006). The ramp that connects the living room to upper galleries is a spatial device of phenomenology: movement is gradual, allowing the body to absorb shifting light, height, and spatial volumes, reinforcing anticipation and spatial narrative (Le Corbusier, 1965).

The upper galleries and mezzanines serve both as circulation and observation points, creating a sense of multiple simultaneous spatial layers. From these vantage points, one observes private rooms below and terraces beyond, generating awareness of the vertical orchestration of space. This subtle layering produces a heightened spatial consciousness, where inhabitation becomes an active perceptual engagement. Even corridors and landings, often overlooked, are experiential thresholds, framing views and guiding movement, illustrating how Raumplan mediates between formal structure and bodily perception (Futogawa, 2002).

The private rooms are smaller, intimate spaces, slightly offset in height from public areas, reinforcing privacy while maintaining visual connections. Their modest dimensions and relation to light and ventilation make them phenomenologically rich: the body senses enclosure, intimacy, and retreat, but remains aware of the larger spatial field. Terraces, arranged at varying levels, extend the interior experience into the landscape. Wind, sunlight, and climate interplay with the built form, creating a sensory continuum where Raumplan structures not just hierarchy but atmospheric experience .
Sangath, designed by B. V. Doshi in Ahmedabad in 1981, applied Raumplan differently but with equal attention to phenomenology. Partially embedded in the landscape, Sangath unfolds horizontally and diagonally. The approach sequence—a sloping path, water channels, and shaded gardens—gradually prepares the body for entry. Here, movement itself becomes a medium of perception (Doshi, 2009; Meletto, 2014). Entry into the building is a slow, contemplative experience: subtle changes in level, texture, and temperature heighten awareness of the body and its relationship to the environment.
 
Once inside, vaulted studios and classrooms guide both attention and movement. The gentle curvature of the roofs and modulated ceiling heights evoke feelings of protection and openness simultaneously. Light enters from skylights, softly illuminating surfaces and creating gradients of brightness across the space. Each room has a distinct phenomenological character: one feels the coolness of shaded surfaces, the roughness of mosaic and concrete, and the rhythm of water in the adjacent channels (Ashraf, 2012).
 
Courtyards punctuate the interior, providing moments of pause and reflection. Water channels and vegetation mediate sensory experience, producing soft sounds and filtered light that extend perception beyond the walls. Movement from interior to courtyard, or from one room to another, is gradual and deliberate: space is experienced as a continuum rather than a sequence of discrete rooms (Doshi, 2009; Pallasmaa, 2012). Even ancillary spaces—corridors, ramps, and terraces—are designed to engage the body: stepping down a platform, feeling a change in light, or observing reflections in water creates a temporal and embodied understanding of the environment.
 
The conceptual argument here is that Raumplan operates as a phenomenological framework. In Villa Shodhan, it organizes vertical movement, visual connection, and layered perception; in Sangath, it governs horizontal flow, tactile engagement, and atmospheric modulation. Across both buildings, movement, materiality, light, and spatial relationships converge, producing a continuous narrative of experience (Basu, 2015; Doshi, 2009; Pallasmaa, 2012). Each space—from public living rooms to intimate private quarters, from terraces to courtyards, from ramps to vaulted studios—becomes an experiential unit, where the inhabitant’s body, senses, and emotions are essential to understanding space.
 
Villa Shodhan and Sangath are particularly revealing because they show how modern architecture can integrate structure, environment, and phenomenology. Villa Shodhan demonstrates how Raumplan can orchestrate vertical hierarchy and visual connections, while Sangath illustrates how spatial flow, materiality, and landscape integration extend the experiential dimension horizontally. Together, they illustrate that architecture is not merely visual or functional, but fundamentally lived, and that Raumplan provides a conceptual bridge between design and human experience.
 
Ultimately, these buildings demonstrate that architecture is a dynamic continuum, where memory, perception, movement, and sensation coalesce. Raumplan is the thread linking formal design to phenomenology, allowing architecture to communicate directly with the body. Through this framework, space becomes a temporal, lived, and memorable environment, not just a static object (Le Corbusier, 1965; Zumthor, 2006; Pallasmaa, 2012). Villa Shodhan and Sangath teach us that to inhabit a building is to experience it fully, and that architecture’s deepest meaning unfolds not in plans or elevations, but in the rhythms of lived space.
 
 
References

● Ashraf, K. K. (2012). 42 Sangath: B. V. Doshi’s Architecture in Ahmedabad. Mumbai: Urban Design Centre.

● Basu, M. S. (2015). Le Corbusier’s Villa Shodhan. Ahmedabad: Mapin Publishing.

● Ching, F. D. K. (2015). Architecture: Form, Space, & Order (4th ed.). John Wiley & Sons.

● Doshi, B. V. (2009). Architecture, Time, Space and People. Mumbai: Mapin Publishing.

● Futogawa, Y. (2002). Residential Masterpieces 16: Shodhan House. Tokyo: A.D.A. Edita.

● Loos, A. (1930). Raumplan and Architecture. Praeger Publishers.

● Meletto, B. (2014). Indian Architecture Between Tradition and Modernity. New Delhi: Art Media Press.

● Pallasmaa, J. (2005). The Eyes of the Skin: Architecture and the Senses. John Wiley & Sons.

● Pallasmaa, J. (2012). The Thinking Hand: Existential and Embodied Wisdom in Architecture. John Wiley & Sons. Zumthor, P. (2006). Thinking Architecture. Birkhäuser.

● Le Corbusier. (1965). The Modular and Villa Shodhan.