Olivia Jordan

Composing in Time, Designing in Space

I once read that music and architecture are often called “sister arts.” Music is architecture in time, and architecture is music in space. I found that idea intriguing. For most of my life, I never thought music and architecture had anything to do with each other. One was something I played. The other was something I walked into. But the idea stayed with me.

One afternoon, I was sketching possible floor plans for our house, just for fun. As I moved rooms around on paper, I kept thinking about flow. Where do you enter? What do you see first? How do you move from one space to another? The entrance introduces you to the inside of the house, while hallways and stairs transition you from one area to the next. Some rooms are quiet and private. Others are open and dramatic. A well designed space guides you through the entire structure.

Suddenly, it dawned on me. Isn’t music the same way?

I have played violin in a youth orchestra for years. When we learn a new piece, we do not just practice notes. We learn its structure. There is a beginning that introduces an idea. Then it develops, sometimes becoming louder, faster, or more intense. There is usually a moment of tension, and eventually a resolution. Just like a building, music has to be carefully constructed. A well composed piece guides a listener from beginning to end.

Orchestra has also taught me about balance. If my section plays too loudly, we overpower everyone else. If we rush, the whole piece feels unstable. We constantly listen and adjust. Architecture depends on that same kind of balance. Proportions, light, materials, and structure all have to work together. If something is slightly off, you can feel it.

I used to think violin and architecture were separate interests. Now I see that one quietly led me to the other. Music taught me how to understand structure in time, how ideas develop, and how tension and release create meaning. Architecture lets me explore structure in space, how rooms connect, how movement feels, and how design shapes experience.

When I play violin, I am shaping sound that unfolds moment by moment. When I sketch spaces, I am shaping experiences that people move through. Both require intention, balance, and imagination. Maybe that is why they are called sister arts. And maybe, in learning one, I was already preparing myself for the other.