How to Cite: Vallejo Rodríguez, Johanna Liliana and Josep-Lluís Rodríguez i Bosch. "Corporeality and Habitability: Journeys Between Space and Time". Dearq 44 (2026): 12-19. https://doi.org/10.18389/dearq44.2026.02
How to Cite: Vallejo Rodríguez, Johanna Liliana and Josep-Lluís Rodríguez i Bosch. "Corporeality and Habitability: Journeys Between Space and Time". Dearq 44 (2026): 12-19. https://doi.org/10.18389/dearq44.2026.02
Johanna Liliana Vallejo Rodríguez
johannaliliana.vallejo@autonoma.cat
Universidad Autónoma de Barcelona, Spain
Josep-Lluís Rodríguez i Bosch
Universidad Autónoma de Barcelona, Spain
Received: December 12, 2024 | Accepted: August 6, 2025
The body, as the primary site of dwelling, is a fabric in which the different dimensions of human experience converge: the organic (postures), the biomechanical (movements), and the symbolic (gestures). Perception, acting as a mediator, unites these layers and gives them meaning. From a hermeneutic perspective, architecture emerges as a dynamic and meaningful extension of corporeality—distinct from the body itself—where postures, movements, and gestures both reflect and reshape the relationship between space and time. Habitability, beyond the mere act of dwelling, is an interpretive and transformative process: the inhabitant and their environment coexist, continually redefining one another, and both projecting meaning. This approach invites reflection on corporeality and habitability, situating them at the core of spatiotemporal creation, where they become both language and action.
Keywords: Architecture, body, dwelling, corporeality, habitability, space and time.
And the Word became flesh.
— John 1:14
This reflection unfolds within hermeneutics as a methodological horizon—a path through which meaning is revealed as an interpretive act. From this perspective, it proposes distinguishing between body and corporeality, as well as between dwelling and habitability. While body and dwelling may be understood as the biological and physical conditions of occupying space, corporeality and habitability emerge when that relationship becomes conscious, symbolic, and situated.
In its most basic dimension, the body enables dwelling through organicity, instinct, and functional adaptation. Dwelling, then, may be reduced to the mere occupation of space—an act that can occur automatically or unreflectively. Corporeality, on the other hand, entails an awareness of the body as a horizon of experience capable of creating meaning. As Duch and Mèlich observe:
Corporeality, as the stage upon which human relationality unfolds, constitutes a harmonic complexity of time and space, reflection and action, passion and emotion, diverse interests and responsibility. This harmonic complexity [...] occurs through the vicissitudes of everyday life as a plastic and historical manifestation of spatiotemporality, which [...] is the most characteristic mark of human beings. (2006, 241, italics in the original)
Similarly, we can understand habitability as the capacity of a space to acquire meaning through its sensitive openness to welcome, affect, and transform in the presence of the other. From this perspective, habitability is not a technical feature but a relational and narrative quality of space. In other words, the body becomes language (Merleau-Ponty 1945), and through its symbolic gesture, a will to be inhabited is revealed—a will that does not impose but offers itself; an ethical openness to the other (Levinas 1998), or rather, a web of meaning in which gesture becomes narrative (Ricœur 1981).
In this text, corporeality is understood as the way the body manifests as a horizon of meaning and relation to the world. It is not limited to the physical or functional body; rather, it refers to a sensitive structure that integrates posture, movement, and gesture as modes of inscribing meaning into lived space. Posture grounds the body in place, movement activates lived temporality, and gesture gathers the symbolic weight of presence.
At a biological level, posture arises from the subtle balance among muscle tone, the vestibular system, and proprioceptive feedback, which constantly regulate verticality, body axis, and spatial orientation. Biomechanically, movement emerges from stimuli that may originate internally (will, desire, emotion) or externally (sound, temperature, light). These stimuli trigger a neurophysiological chain: the brain's motor areas (primary motor cortex, basal ganglia, and cerebellum) plan and execute movement, while the spinal cord transmits the signal to the muscles (Bueno 2021).
At the most symbolic level, gesture condenses the emotional intensity of presence. Here, interoceptive perception (how we feel the body from within) and emotional experience converge: the limbic system—particularly the amygdala and the insula—translates affective energy into expressive forms such as muscle tension, breathing, tone of voice, and gaze direction. Gesture, then, becomes synthesis (Castellanos 2022).
In parallel, habitability manifests as the capacity of space to acquire meaning—not through its technical attributes, but through its ability to receive, affect, and transform in temporal presence. Following Zumthor (2007), a space becomes truly habitable when corporeality unfolds through posture (structure), movement (dynamics), and gesture (symbolic atmosphere).
From this point of view, architecture presents itself as a text awaiting interpretation—an open field for dialogue between corporeality and habitability. Within this dialogue, where meaning does not preexist, a continuous act of interpretation takes place. Hermeneutics thus grounds this textualized body, allowing us to understand dwelling as a creative act of meaning-making—where corporeality becomes language and habitability emerges as a re-signified dimension through presence and action.
Corporeality, understood as a conscious and symbolic way of inhabiting the world, manifests through three dimensions: posture, movement, and gesture. Beyond their functional aspects, these dimensions act as inscriptions of meaning, revealing how the body becomes language in its relationship with the environment.
Corporeality is a territory of experiences—a symbolic home that, through the organic, the temporal, and the symbolic, enters into dialogue with the world and, in doing so, transforms it. From this perspective, corporeality serves as a mediator: it does not merely present the world but also represents it.
Merleau-Ponty (1945) conceives corporeality as a sensitive structure that not only receives stimuli but also acts and perceives as a living unity, shaping our way of inhabiting the world. This interplay gives form to our experience of space and to the way we move through the settings of time—a continuous flow in which the bodily and the spatiotemporal intertwine, allowing encounters with otherness (Levinas 1998).
Rather than a closed or self-contained structure, corporeality presents itself as a sensitive openness to the world. In every contact—with the ground, the environment, or others—we both perceive and are perceived. It is, therefore, a reciprocal relationship. We do not inhabit from the outside; we dwell through lived involvement, which transforms both subject and space. Corporeality becomes the place from which the world unfolds as experience. This relationship is neither neutral nor automatic; it is deeply symbolic: every movement, pause, and gesture leaves a trace that reshapes the environment and activates a shared memory (Merleau-Ponty 1945).
In this sense, corporeality is affected by space while simultaneously transforming it. Foucault (1976) describes it as an active text upon which power and resistance are inscribed—an idea that helps us understand how certain spaces impose restrictions, shape behavior, and condition how corporeality is expected to appear. Yet Haraway (1991) suggests that corporeality can also perform space, re-signifying and transgressing it—endowing it with new meanings through gesture, movement, and action. In this performative dimension, corporeality is not merely shaped by its environment; it also subverts and redefines the spatial frameworks that contain it, moving beyond imposed limits and generating new ways of experiencing itself. Corporeality thus becomes an agent of spatial re-signification: conditioned by the environment, yet continually reconfiguring it through its trajectories and gestures.
Like architecture, corporeality is both content and form—a living text inscribed within the space it inhabits. Eco (2000) reinforces this symbolic dimension from a semiotic perspective, conceiving space as a text open to interpretation and meaning. Just as corporeality reads and reinterprets the spaces it moves through, architecture likewise becomes a surface of meaning activated through experience. Both coexist within a shared language of presence, trajectory, and memory.
Corporeality, then, does not merely respond to the environment—it transforms it. This transformation arises not only from physiological configuration but also from the body's capacity to project meaning and establish a symbolic relationship with space. From a hermeneutic standpoint, Gadamer (1997) understands comprehension as a way of being in the world rather than as a detached or abstract process. Understanding unfolds through encounter; thus, dwelling also entails interpretation—a dialogue with the environment through which meaning and identity are constructed.
Ricœur (1981) links this interpretive process to the narrative of time: human actions inscribe stories into space, transforming it into a symbolic setting. Within this symbolic fabric, culture and literature—as exemplified by Sade and Masoch—demonstrate how representations of corporeality shape our perception of space and our experience of time.
A body disconnected from its own awareness can hardly achieve full habitability. The absence of bodily consciousness may render space inhospitable—not for lack of form, but for lack of the meaningful presence of corporeality. From this perspective, architecture finds in corporeality its first field of action, as it represents the original space from which our relationship with the world is configured (Merleau-Ponty 1945).
In this light, corporeality is not a purely individual act but a collective process that involves cultivating the relationship between the body and the spatiotemporal. Gadamer (1997) notes that our understanding of space arises from a hermeneutic process in which the body, through its interaction with the environment, interprets and transforms the places it inhabits, imbuing them with meaning through action and movement. The body thus inscribes stories and meanings into space, turning it into a symbolic and ever-changing stage.
The ways the body moves, positions itself, and expresses itself within space are shaped by cultural and ethical meanings. Through its actions, corporeality reminds us that all meaningful dwelling begins with the body—but it also requires a shared, educational dimension of self-dwelling (Pallasmaa 1996, 2005).
Habitability emerges from a dynamic relationship in which corporeality, through perception, gives shape to the spatiotemporal dimension—and is, in turn, shaped by it. This interaction reveals that the act of dwelling unfolds on both sides of the experience (Le Breton 2012). Just as corporeality expresses itself through postures, movements, and gestures—manifestations of functional and symbolic practices (Mauss 1971)—it arises from a physical, mental, and emotional organization that links the body with its surroundings (Castellanos 2022). In this sense, habitability can be understood as the symbolic extension of corporeality: an interpretive mirror that materializes the relationships between inside and outside, the individual and the collective, the material and the immaterial (Duch & Mèlich 2005).
In this sense, the architecture envisioned by Zumthor (1998, 2007), and interpreted within the cultural and historical frameworks explored by Foucault (1976) and Haraway (1991), belongs to a continuum in which corporeality is traversed by the narrative of time and articulated through habitability. Together, they generate an experience that is not only lived but also continuously rewritten through each story human beings project onto space.
From a biological perspective, postures arise from a sensory and emotional process that provides stability, grounding, and physical readiness (Pallasmaa 1996). The body, as the primary receptor, organizes and anticipates the world through the senses, sending signals to the brain that merge with emotional responses in the limbic system (Castellanos 2022). These experiences—interpreted almost instantaneously—give meaning to our perception of space (Bueno 2021). Body, mind, and emotion thus operate not in isolation but in a dynamic flow that shapes spatial perception and influences the postures we adopt and the narratives we build in relation to our surroundings.
From an architectural standpoint, posture manifests in the verticality of a skyscraper that invites elevation, in the horizontality of a façade that conveys stability, or in the curvature of a spiral that evokes warmth and shelter. Yet such posture attains full meaning only through the corporeality that interprets and inhabits it. A temple, for instance, is not solemn merely because of its columns; it becomes so through the postures of those who move within it, imbuing the space with a spiritual narrative—a phenomenon that transcends the physical and enters the symbolic (Gadamer 1997).
The posture of space responds to the inhabitant's state while also transforming it. A rigid, angular bench, for example, may project a functionalist posture that restricts bodily comfort and interaction. Yet such an environment can be re-signified through human action—by moving furniture, rearranging space, or creating scenarios that encourage bodily expression (Mauss 1971). Likewise, ergonomic design standards—for instance, a library with soft contours and warm lighting—suggest a posture of welcome that invites reflection (Elorza et al. 2017). However, this perception may shift if the person entering the space has a rapid heartbeat or is in an agitated emotional state that resists stillness (Castellanos 2022).
Architecture, then, acts as an active agent that shapes bodily experience, influencing gestures, movements, and emotional states. Yet corporeality, through its own postures and actions, also transforms the space it occupies. This dialogue reminds us that habitability is not a passive condition but a continuous exchange in which body and space-time reinterpret and re-signify one another (Merleau-Ponty 1945; Gadamer 1997).
Like corporeality, habitability assumes a posture that is neither autonomous nor neutral, as it resonates with those who inhabit the space and with the architecture that frames it. It is a physical, relational, and symbolic disposition that becomes narrative, projecting the intentions and emotions of present bodies through the materials, forms, and proportions that define its design. Habitability, as an extension of corporeality, reflects both human presence and the architectural structure that sustains it.
Movement, meanwhile, represents both a physical trajectory shaped by design and a textured dynamic of encounter that connects corporeality and habitability across time. A corridor may suggest a linear path, but it is the body's movement—its rhythm, pauses, and direction—that completes the narrative of that journey. Habitability, then, is continually redefined through bodily action, moving beyond the notion of space as a passive backdrop (Mauss 1971; Castellanos 2022). Merleau-Ponty (1945) emphasizes that corporeality does not merely traverse space; it inhabits it with intention. Levinas (1998) adds a temporal dimension to this experience, intertwining past, present, and future in every step.
From this viewpoint, habitability functions as a living organism, influencing internal dynamics—such as light and airflow—and external ones—such as bodily movement—within a continuous dialogue (Le Breton 2012). Multisensory perception, as described by Pallasmaa (2005) and expressed through Zumthor's sensitive design (2007), modulates the rhythm and character of each spatial experience.
As the body moves, it successively occupies different places, each layered with sensory stimuli that shape how the environment is perceived. This multisensory dimension, as Pallasmaa (2005) notes, extends far beyond vision to include touch, hearing, temperature, and even the texture and scent of air. Corporeality, attuned to these internal and external sensations, constructs a dual experience of spatiotemporal transit in which cognition and emotion intertwine, creating unique rhythms and nuances for each path (Le Breton 2012; Bueno 2021; Castellanos 2022).
Architecture, for its part, does not simply stand as a backdrop—it guides and influences bodily movement through intentional design. Zumthor (2007) highlights how materials, proportions, and spatial sequences shape the way one moves through buildings and open spaces, subtly modulating bodily sensations and the pace of motion. A narrow corridor or a helical staircase, for instance, directs the body's passage and imprints a particular cadence, altering one's sense of time and connection to the surroundings. Thus, movement becomes a relational act in which corporeality and habitability together expand our understanding of what it means to dwell and experience the spatiotemporal world.
Gesture, within space, is the dynamic expression that emerges from the encounter between corporeality and habitability. While posture relates to stability and movement to temporality, gesture introduces the symbolic dimension, serving as an interpretive language co-created by both body and space. Architecture, through its lines, materials, and proportions, offers a formal framework that remains incomplete without lived experience. It is the inhabitant who breathes life into that framework, animating gesture and transforming it into an experiential narrative (Ricœur 1991; Gadamer 1997; Pallasmaa 2005).
Thus, a large window is not merely a material opening; its gesture of openness and connection emerges when the inhabitant's gaze transforms it into a symbolic threshold linking inside and outside (Ricœur 1991).
Gesture introduces an expressive and communicative layer. Merleau-Ponty (1945) defines it as the way the body interprets its environment, moving beyond mere functionality into the symbolic. The curved lines of a room may suggest warmth, yet it is the inhabitant's slow, attentive movement that completes this gesture of softness. The gesture of space is therefore neither fixed nor self-contained—it depends on corporeality to be revealed. To activate habitability is to engage in a gestural act of encounter, in which body and space-time mutually nourish one another.
Corporeality, then, is the lived, felt, and inhabited experience of the body. It transcends physical materiality to become a symbolic, emotional, and social dimension rooted in our relationship with the world (Le Breton 2012). From a hermeneutic standpoint, Merleau-Ponty (1945) conceives the body not as an object but as a mode of being-in-the-world—one that perceives, interprets, and re-signifies space through a gestural language. Ricœur (1991) and Gadamer (1997) frame this relationship as the re-signification of space through action, while Duch and Mèlich (2005) and Le Breton (2012) emphasize how gestures embody emotional and relational engagement with inhabited space, revealing the body's symbolic dimension within its environment.
A space, in turn, projects gestures through its symbolic atmosphere. Here, corporeality and habitability activate its language of meaning. The smooth curves of a staircase, for example, may gesture lightness when ascended energetically, conveying fluidity and elevation—but the same staircase may evoke heaviness or melancholy when climbed slowly, perhaps due to fatigue or physical pain. This example underscores a key idea: we often occupy spaces through bodily dwelling—that is, through instinctive, automatic action—rather than through meaningful, reflective corporeality and habitability (Duch & Mèlich, 2005).
Both corporeality and habitability can—and must—be cultivated to foster a more conscious relationship with space. As Bueno (2021) points out, developing bodily awareness integrates body, cognition, and emotion, enabling deeper forms of learning. In architecture, gestures materialize through form: straight lines express structure and order, while curved lines convey softness and welcome. A half-open door may gesture invitation, while a solid wall may signal boundary or isolation. Yet these architectural gestures remain incomplete without the participation of corporeality and habitability, which interpret them and bring them to life (Merleau-Ponty 1945; Le Breton 2012).
Gestures also inscribe their own narratives into space. A confident stride transforms a corridor into a gesture of direction and purpose, while a paused, observant stance turns that same corridor into a gesture of contemplation. Architecture, therefore, is not a closed language but an open system, continuously enriched and rewritten through the movements of the bodies that inhabit it. This ongoing interaction transforms the symbolic atmosphere into an architectural gesture—a shared expression embodied in a physical space open to creation (Ricœur 1991; Gadamer 1997).
Corporeality, in its ongoing dialogue with space and time, reveals that habitability is not a passive condition but an interpretive and transformative one. The organic (postural), biomechanical (movement), and symbolic (gestural) dimensions help us understand a living narrative in which corporeality and habitability continuously redefine one another.
From a hermeneutic perspective, habitability takes on a collective and educational role: it is not merely about arranging spaces, but about recognizing within them an openness that both affects and challenges us. In this encounter, the body does not simply inhabit—it interprets, engages, transforms, and is, in turn, transformed. Thus, inhabiting becomes a way of inscribing identity and meaning into the flow of time, within that shared space where body and environment coexist, shape one another, and invite reflection.
In this sense, architectural forms—straight lines, curves, openings, and enclosures—act as gestures that, when traversed or simply perceived by the body, reveal something about both the space and the one who inhabits it. Yet space also speaks on its own terms: its material, light, and composition possess expressive qualities that influence us even without full physical engagement. To inhabit a space requires a kind of intention, though it need not always be conscious; sometimes it is enough simply to be present, to sense, or to allow oneself to be affected. In this way, architecture becomes a relational act in which corporeality and habitability coexist and give shape to one another.
Education in corporeality and habitability, then, is not aimed at developing a mere bodily technique but rather a sensitive practice—one that integrates perception, movement, and meaning. As Bueno (2021) points out, such education weaves together body, cognition, and emotion in an experience where the symbolic takes embodied form. From this perspective, habitability cannot exist without the corporeality that brings it to life; at the same time, space itself seems to await us, even before it is named. Those who design, organize, or simply move through spaces—architects, educators, inhabitants—are invited to recognize this dialogue, in which the architectural gesture does not impose but offers itself as an open field for meaning.