Spatial Grammar, Not Room Inventory Configurational Clustering of Albanian Vernacular Dwellings across Five Cities

In the study of how people live, architects and historians have long looked at the rooms inside a house to understand the family that lived there. They counted the bedrooms, the kitchens, and the guest rooms, assuming that the list of spaces told the whole story of a culture's way of life. This approach treats a home like a simple inventory, a checklist of functions. However, a deeper layer of understanding exists in the way those rooms are connected to one another. Just as a city is defined not just by the buildings it contains but by the streets that link them, a home is defined by the paths that allow people to move from one space to another. This hidden logic of connection, often called spatial grammar, suggests that the arrangement of a house reveals social rules and cultural priorities that a simple list of rooms cannot show. For centuries, the traditional homes of Albania have been admired for their beauty and their adaptation to the landscape, but they have often been studied as isolated examples or grouped together under a single national label. The question remains whether these homes are all variations of one standard type, or if they hold distinct, regional secrets that only appear when we look at how the spaces are linked.

A new study by Shkëlqim Sherifi, an independent researcher based in Tetova, challenges the old way of looking at Albanian homes. Instead of counting rooms, the researcher mapped the connections between them in twenty-four traditional houses across five different cities: Berat, Gjirokastër, Korçë, Shkodër, and Tirana. By tracing the paths a person would take to walk from the front door to the bedroom, the kitchen, or the guest room, the study created a digital map of movement for each house. These maps were then analyzed to see if the houses from the same city shared a unique pattern of movement, distinct from the houses in other cities. The goal was to determine if the way these homes are organized is governed by a specific regional logic, or if they are just a random mix of similar rooms.

The results were clear and surprising. When the researcher grouped the houses based on the number and type of rooms they contained, the groups were weak and blurry. A house from one city looked very similar to a house from another city if they had the same number of bedrooms or kitchens. This suggested that a simple list of rooms was not enough to tell the different cities apart. However, when the houses were grouped based on how their spaces were connected, the picture changed completely. The analysis revealed three sharply distinct groups that aligned closely, though not perfectly, with the geography of the region, while identifying five distinct regional spatial grammars. This finding proves that the true identity of an Albanian traditional home is not found in its inventory of rooms, but in the specific grammar of its layout. The way a family moves through their home is a unique signature of their city, shaped by local history, topography, and social customs.

Each of the five cities studied revealed its own unique spatial personality. In Berat, the homes follow a horizontal path. The layout is organized around a long, open porch on the ground floor that leads directly to a central loggia on the upper floor. This creates a flow where the guest areas and family areas are arranged side-by-side, connected by a clear, straight line of movement. In contrast, the homes of Gjirokastër are built for verticality. These stone tower houses, known as kulla, are stacked high on steep hillsides. The movement inside is strictly up and down, with the most important guest rooms reserved for the very top floor, far away from the entrance and the lower storage areas. This vertical separation reflects a society where privacy and defense were paramount, and where the height of the house signaled status.

The city of Korçë offers a different story, one centered on a corridor. Here, the homes are designed for a mercantile lifestyle, with a long hallway running through the center of the house that connects all the rooms. This layout allows for easy access to different parts of the home without needing to pass through other rooms, a practical solution for a busy trading community. In Shkodër, the homes combine elements of the porch and the loggia but add a layer of complexity with multiple open galleries and a system that separates the guest areas from the family quarters in a very specific, elaborate way. Finally, Tirana presents a unique pattern found nowhere else. These homes are defined by an internal gallery, a small balcony or walkway that overlooks the main living room from above. This feature, which appears only in Tirana, creates a tripartite hierarchy where the family, the guests, and the service areas are arranged in a specific three-part balance that is unique to the capital.

The study also looked at how these homes have changed over time and how they are threatened today. The traditional houses of these five cities represent a rich heritage that has survived centuries of political change, from the Ottoman Empire to the Italian occupation, the socialist era, and the rapid, unregulated development of the modern day. Today, many of these historic neighborhoods are being replaced by high-rise buildings that ignore the old patterns of movement and community. The research suggests that preserving these homes requires more than just saving the stone walls or the wooden windows. To truly protect the cultural value of these places, conservation efforts must understand and respect the specific spatial grammar of each city. A house in Berat cannot be preserved using the same rules as a house in Gjirokastër, because their internal logic is fundamentally different.

By proving that these homes are governed by distinct regional grammars rather than a single national style, the study provides a new tool for protecting Albania's architectural heritage. It shows that the soul of a traditional house is not in the list of its rooms, but in the invisible paths that connect them. This understanding allows historians and planners to see the past more clearly and to make better decisions for the future. The work confirms that the diversity of Albanian life is written into the very floor plans of its homes, waiting to be read by those who know how to look at the connections rather than just the contents.