Architectural representation, regardless of the platform—whether a plan, section, isometric, or perspective—is simultaneously a product and a procedure. As a product, it is the final outcome representing the object, articulating scale, information, and medium. As a procedure, it is the process of defining what and how to represent, dissecting and translating information—understood not only as a graphic product but as a process of analyzing, selecting, and translating from one medium to another, an objective way of thinking through which new truths about the augmented object are revealed. For this procedure and product to be complete, their information must be understood by the viewer. This gives rise to graphic standards and codes that regularize comprehension and typically relate to the constructive logic of the building or city, whether existing or proposed. Ultimately, this graphic product is an abstraction of reality—an idealized, orthogonal translation of the aspects chosen for systematization.
There is no absolute and complete reading of reality, whether graphic, written, or spoken. Even a photograph, which at first glance seems to be the most faithful reproduction of reality, has the photographer's eye behind the lens, filtering the scene and framing only what is of interest. The same is true of an isometric drawing, which is merely an impossible reproduction of the world, framing it within three orthogonal axes; or a perspective's vanishing point, which is nothing but a graphic mechanism simulating a non-existent real situation.
The duality between the infinitude of reality and the intrinsic synthesis of representation, especially in architecture, raises questions about how to maximize the potential of two-dimensional representation to capture more elements of this reality. What are the limits of representation? To what extent are codes and standards sufficient? This calls into question the potential boundaries of standard graphic tools as they are used today.
In contemporary architecture and urban planning, structure, axes, and spatiality are no longer sufficient to represent the entirety of an object. Other factors enter the design equation, moving beyond the physical boundaries of the built environment. New social dynamics emerge as essential conditions to be considered, and quantifying spatial relationships has become a complex procedure. Immeasurable parameters are now considered defining factors in design strategies.
Technical graphic representations are fundamental tools for communicating design intent. However, architectural drawing can raise other questions that are not necessarily directly related to what is built, yet remain fundamentally architectural. Thus, among these representations, the section highlights the possibility of overlapping multiple layers and configurations, offering varied readings of the same subject. The section is a form of representation appropriated by various disciplines, historically emerging as a tool for recording, proposing, and developing ideas.
The section conveys information regarding the z-axis, the third dimension. It develops vertical relationships not found in plans, directly linking it to the human scale. "Section is the site where space, form, and material meet human experience" (LEWIS; TSURUMAKI; LEWIS, 2016, p. 6).
The procedure defines how the representation is conceived and constructed. It is worth noting that the definitions of what and how to represent, the process of selecting information, and how it is organized to fulfill its intended functions do not necessarily need to correlate with the codes used by established conventions.
It is important to clarify that there is no standard procedure. The ways in which these drawings fulfill their intended functions do not follow linear processes, nor do they conform to a single methodology.
Nevertheless, the section relies on a standardized language with clear requirements for legibility, which varies depending on its intended function. Yet one must question the value of these rules of construction, as they are established by the very body of images with which we are familiar. To what extent should this supposed validation by precedent, which deems a graphic object useful and legible, authenticate it?
The tradition of representing sections in architecture is reproduced in such a way that its understanding becomes part of the collective imagination of the specific field. An architectural section carries a set of expectations regarding the information to be shown, such as levels, voids, proportions, and enclosures. Similarly, a botanical section gathers a different set of codes within its visual language that still identify it as a section, though of a different origin—just like sections in anatomy, mechanics, or engineering. While all employ the same practice, each field graphically refines its results to engage with its own established norms and the intended purpose of the drawing.
Within graphic representation, there is a notion that certain information is best conveyed through standard graphic codes, which indeed aid in immediate comprehension due to established conventions. However, it is crucial to recognize that these are not the only ways to translate specific information. We must challenge the idea that certain graphic products must always be tied to specific functions.
This questioning, prompted by the plurality of translation, encourages a graphic exercise that bridges the relationship between procedure and product. Its objective is to build a graphic object based on a collection of overlapping layers. The goal is to explore the limits established by the product and its articulations.
To this end, a fragment of the city of São Paulo was chosen. Within it, certain expectations regarding the section can be established beforehand due to prior knowledge of its physical conditions. This establishes relationships between floor levels, the road axis layout, and distinct territorial divisions.
Working exhaustively and continuously on a single object tied to a "real" condition in the universe, free from comparisons with other "realities," sharpened the discursive focus on the graphic resource. This approached the exercise without debating the specific urban condition presented, focusing instead on the relationships established by the graphic tool itself.
Consequently, the choice of this specific site is not essential to understanding the following points, but rather serves to illustrate the questions raised.
For the exercise of constructing the layers of information that would comprise the section, the sequence of actions is recreated, paying close attention to the order in which the parts are made and why they are constructed this way.
It is important to clarify that from the beginning of the process, the drawing does not adhere to a completely faithful representation of reality; instead, it relies heavily on assumption to illustrate the points listed.
We thus begin with the two-dimensional information of the plan, first selecting the section cut line where the drawing will slice through a given reality.
Throughout the construction of the narrative, procedure and product have been discussed simultaneously as two interdependent parts of the same subject. Together, these two parts constitute what we call here a "complete graphic object"—where translation is materialized into a product on a platform that only becomes whole when it is interpreted and read. The very process of producing the graphic object allowed us to put into practice the questions that arose during the development of the resulting piece, prompting new discussions on the limits of graphic representation.
All forms of language depend on codes to express their intent, as it is the code that ensures comprehension by the viewer. The issue raised is precisely how the codes that make up a given representation are constructed. The main intention of this discussion is to reflect on how we produce information. The strength of representation lies precisely in its potential to take on infinite forms—the capacity to view an object from multiple perspectives and multiply its meaning countlessly. The aim here is to question graphic production, provoke reflection, and deconstruct conventional ideas.
The graphic product is built by adding layers to test the potential of overlapping information, pushing its limits. The section produced from the slice of São Paulo uses graphic resources that align with conventional expectations of architectural representation. The resulting drawing corresponds to standard conventions of architectural synthesis, which typically do not include information beyond physical, built elements. Here, the question of limits is explored by overlapping various layers chronologically, without any predetermined reading in mind.
Naturally, there is an expectation regarding the form each piece of information takes, since the code used is defined and the chosen site is known. However, the section had no prior objective other than the study of its own methodology. The final result does not seek to answer a question about that specific place, but rather to clarify a sequence of information assembly.
The outcome of this exercise is an extremely dense section, where the excessive overlapping of lines begins to make it impossible to read individual pieces of information. While general aspects—such as the contrast between built mass and void, silhouettes, partitions, and floors—are still discernible, details and clarity begin to dissolve in the tangle of superimposed information. This reaches a limit of what established standards can handle regarding the world we live in, the amount of existing information, and how it is produced.
Gathering the fourteen layers of information that make up the section, organized and layered chronologically, results in a representation of a single reality. However, reorganizing these same layers according to different logics can yield entirely different readings of the same subject. If structured around a specific, predetermined interest aimed at answering predefined questions, the same drawn layers can generate new interpretations and viewpoints of the same object through a new organization of information. This underscores, once again, the plurality of translating the same subject, highlighting the section as a tool that enables this graphic translation.
Bibliography
LEWIS, Paul; TSURUMAKI, Mark; LEWIS, David J. Manual of Section. New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 2016.
This article was developed from a graduation thesis completed at Escola da Cidade in 2016, advised by Prof. Dr. Felipe Noto. Originally published in Revista Cadernos de Pesquisa #6, a publication by Escola da Cidade dedicated to disseminating undergraduate research and experimental studies. To access the digital issue: http://www.escoladacidade.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/181000_RC_n6_Final-Site.pdf
This article was written by Beatriz Costa Hoyos. The translation is powered by AI.
