Landscape-puritanism....
Standing in my father’s
studio, I used to watch my father generate creative sprawl on one-sided paper.
This creative sprawl developed into bricks and trees; into landscape design. It
was here, at the age of 9, I was awakened; my journey had begun. It was here
that I insisted on defining what landscape design meant to me, and it is in
this essay that these thoughts will take form. I insist that human beings must come closer to nature by not
dictating its uses and form; but by connecting with its awe-inspiring
understanding of this ancient world. Once such an understanding is forged then
only successful and fulfilling landscape design can be created; created for the
benefit of nature, its inhabitants and us, its children. To forge this
connection is to see the Earth as old, wise, guiding and inspiring; as if it
were our parents, a greater being not to be messed with.
Man has lost this alliance
with nature in recent centuries, replacing nature with himself; the centre of
all truth. With the breakout of the Industrial Revolution in the late 18th
century, man bowed down to his creation. The sheer efficiency of machines
propelled economic times and the dollar sign became the measure of all things.
Society became a machine, people began to think like cogs of machines (Fig. 1), and a distance grew between
man and nature.
During this, in the early 19th
century, philosophers and artists rallied together to seek nature again.
Romanticists thought that by merely appreciating nature, an understanding could
be sought. But, it was a form of subjugation. Nature became the observed object
of man’s gaze (Fig. 2) and was under
man’s power. An understanding was not forged; but constructed. The construction began, but this time in
nature itself undermining nature’s role yet again.
Niagara Falls is a good
example of this. Niagara Falls for a long time had been ‘the epitome of the
sublime, offering the experience of a powerful natural feature of superhuman
scale that inspires awe and fear’ (Fig.
3).[1]
Frederick Law Olmsted, an avant-garde landscape architect and theorist of the
Romantic period, was asked to ‘construct’ and ‘box in’ this sublime experience
for tourists. This resulted in the 1887 plan which ‘successfully accommodated
tourists with diverse values and expectations’ but failed to address the
consequences this would have on nature in the coming decades. [2] Niagara
Falls became the subject of the human gaze and by no means did this design
benefit nature. In the last 100 years this one-way relationship has resulted in
conflict; a ‘tension between scenic landmark and source of power’.[3] This
‘sublime experience’ is now ‘a source of cheap power, a historic landmark, a
livelihood’ for man who has subjugated the area to industrialisation (Fig. 4).[4]
Romanticism then turned into Modernism
when the World Wars brought changes in the ways of thinking. The city became
the pedestal of man and never before had the dollar sign been so idealized.
Capitalism thrived, and man thrived with it; with consequences. Technological and
economic transformations in Modernism ‘had a profound impact on the landscape
and on our attitudes toward nature’ making us ‘fundamentally hostile to nature’.
[5] This led to a ‘divorce’ between design and
nature with nature becoming an ‘other’ or an afterthought to the built
environment. [6]
An example of this is in Le
Corbusier’s plans for re-developing cities. Le Corbusier believed in his Cities
of Tomorrow (Fig. 5) that planned,
severe, sterile, geometrical spaces that should replace present-day cities.
Nature played a minor role. He saw nature as ‘a picture, a view, a scene –
however symbolic’. [7] The landscape in this understanding of nature
is distanced from the viewer by the frame creating a detached connection.[8] Further
emphasizing his detachment from nature, Le Corbusier believed that ‘organization
involves a geometrical plan.... in the midst of nature’ and to gain this ‘surgery
must be employed’.[9]
Thankfully in 1969 this ideal
world of man and his glory was shattered by the intimidating images of our
planet Earth seen from space. Never before had we seen our isolation; never
before did it occur to us that there was no other planet for us to ‘escape’ to
and that all the pollution we vomitted onto this one was going to have severe
consequences. Environmentalism rose out of this; understanding our planet and
nature was the answer. But, alas, it was short lived and the ego of man
trampled on the prospects of regaining a better understanding of the world.
This thinking merged into
Deconstructivism, which ‘in the wake of the social and environmental disasters
of industrialisation.... retreated to the comforting forms of nostalgia and
seemingly stable, secure, and more permanent forms’ of breaking down and
understanding the environment around us.[10] But nature, as we know it, was
constructed to suit the vanity of man and to fill the pockets of his trousers.
Nature came into the cities, in small pockets of land, closed in on all sides
by pedestals of ‘civilisation’; overshadowed by capitalism. And man looked at
it with greedy eyes and wondered how much money that land could be sold for.
The high land costs encouraged greater intensity of land use thus relegating an
understanding of nature to a lower tier of priority and squeezing the green
spaces out of the city.[11]
Today we still think like this
even with the rising threat of global warming and the doom we invite ourselves
in to. Today,
if
nature receives attention, then it is only for the purpose of conquest, or even
better exploitation – for the latter not only accomplishes the first objective,
but provides a financial reward for the conqueror.[12]
We prioritise this over
exploring and learning from the secrets of the Earth. However with the rise of
a form of Environmentalism, vast parts of land are preserved and conserved with
no economic benefit in mind. But these efforts lie unsupported. Why you may
ask? Because we lack connection with these efforts; we lack connection and
understanding of why it needs to be done.
One can conclude that in the last 200 years
man has had very little understanding of the planet and the environment that
surrounds him. This has consequented in a rise of economic activity which
results in power shifting from man to man over nature. Power is the God in citadels across the world
and it is this God who gazes out at the subservient entertainer
nature. Nature has become a body we can construct for our own benefit, and give
program to only for the pleasure of our eyes and not to the benefit of anything
else. Let alone for the benefit of nature.
So what needs to change? We must change how we perceive and find a
sense of being in nature. We must go back a few millennia to pre-historic times
when nature and man connected; and lived in unity.
In my father’s studio and in
the translation from inner creative outpourings into the garden I realized how
instinctual is was to have a spiritual awakening from nature. The world was
opening up. It was no longer just my family, our houses and gardens. It was a
world; inextricably linked to everything; to good and bad; to old and new; and
to me. Nature and the landscape became an awe-inspiring Goddess; drawing me in
tug by tug until I was consumed by the beauty of this ancient balance that had
been perfecting itself for millennia.
At this time to wake up at 5am
and hear the calls of the Indian summer birds was to tap into the instinct of
nature’s instinct. The birds instinctually awoke to the hot red, glowing
furnace. To me this relationship was beautiful. The birds had awoken at the
hint of dawn; they were linked by some invisible force of instinct. I too awoke
with the dawn, trying to let my instincts breathe. I invited sunshine to wash
over me; to wake me up to what lay in the depths of all people; a sixth sense.
A calling to nature. The warmth, the light and the deep connection to nature
embodied me. I became one with the Sun. Its
light guided me to the spirituality of nature.
This instinct got me thinking
about paganism. To see the land in terms of what it gives and the higher being
that it is was made sense to me. To be pagan was to hold nature and its forces
close to you; for it to become a priority to you. When one connects with the
spirit of the land, its inhabitants and the wider cosmos and relate to it we
become nature’s children and not its master. This is what I wanted my
relationship to be with nature.
I felt paganism connected us
to our ancestors’; another aspect of our sixth sense that was to be called
upon. I knew the spirits of ancestors dwelt in nature. I knew that what had
stopped me from seeing it earlier was my inability to de-centralize myself and
become less egotistical. To talk to your ancestors is to listen and learn to
what we take so for granted. We can learn from the land; and we can learn from
our ancestors who now lived and breathed through the land. We should learn from
‘the vitality of the glorious old models’, our ancestors, and be inspired to ‘produce
more than fruitless imitations’.[13]
Through this paganism we must
channel our ancestors, the beliefs that have been given to us over centuries,
that have evolved into an art form of living and thriving on minimal amounts;
the vernacular of our soul.
Paganism has fully realized
this vitality and through the ages has become the pathway to a better
understanding of the landscape around us. To realize we are not alone on this
planet, but a part of a wider orbit that encompasses not just our lives and
ancestors in the Earth, and the solar system but all the millions of other
solar systems out there. To realize the land is alive with our past, and is a
topography of secrets from our ancestors would send us on the pathway to
understanding the land.
A post card from Ireland arrived
at this vital time of my awakening. It was of the megalithic tomb, Newgrange (Fig. 6), which confirmed what I was feeling
was not isolated. On the winter solstice, the Newgrange tomb’s central
passageway is flooded with sunlight. This is the only time it gets sunshine;
and at this time it gets it only for one hour. At this time the tomb, man,
ancestors and the cosmos is linked. Man was connected to nature instinctually;
this was his intuitive response to his ancestors and the wider world. At this
time there was a ‘union of the deepest sublimity with the deepest beauty of
nature’.[14]
But none of this understanding
and exploration can exist without the appreciation and use of art. Greater than
anything, landscape is beauty. A common theme in eras of Landscape Architectural
theory is that the land beholds great beauty, and the man made city does not.
Camilla Sitte talks about cities being ‘painfully art less’ where they have
become ‘worthless, having exhausted the last drop of art’s blood from its
veins’. [15] This has led to a lack of ‘appeal to the
sense of perception’; less imagination and less beauty.[16] Sitte
further remarks that it ‘must be
remembered that art has a legitimate and vital place in civic arrangement, for
it is this kind of art alone that daily and hourly influences the great mass of
people’.[17]
This appreciation of art is giving our sixth sense a glimpse of the world.
All of the above defines my
soul. The land is spiritual and the more I am at one with it the more spiritual
I feel. It is this soul that becomes the ancestor of future generations; it is
the breath in nature that drives inspiration and connection to the greater
world beyond our noses. This is what I think of the land and this is what of me
that will live on.
After my spiritual awakening
in the landscape, I turned to contemplation. Olmsted said that contemplation produced
‘an enjoyment of the moment, an escape from stresses of the present and worries
about the future’ which ‘exercised and refreshed both mind and body’.[18] This
having a lasting ‘beneficial physical, mental, and moral’ effect on me’.[19]It
was these benefits I gained and craved; the whispers of the ancient times, the
ancestors who talked through the trees, and the earth below my feet became my
rock. I saw it as an ever-changing tide that had so many secrets harboured for
us to see when we chose to delve into them. The secrets were inspiring,
comforting and full of wisdom. I saw that
an early morning walk was ‘a blessing for the whole day’ as Henry Thoreau said. I, saw that the
land was my parental guidance; ever there, ever strong, ever loving and, ever
inspiring.
It is all these elements that
compose a mutual understanding of the land. It is these ‘tools’ that must
influence our designed environment. All
of these combine to make a unique approach to design. The vernacular approach.
A combination of paganism, respect for ancestry, soulful instinct, tradition,
art, an understanding of the ever-changing landscape, evolution, and adaptation
culminates in this. Why can we not ‘seek out the essential quality of this
heritage and adapt it to modern conditions’ where we should be ‘able to plant
the seeds of new vitality in seemingly barren soil’?[20]
Why can we not ‘harmonize the essential old principles’ with present day needs?[21]
An architect who displays this
acuity is Geoffrey Bawa. Being of Sri Lankan and Dutch tradition he has drawn
on the best of tradition, the land and the element of change; he has drawn on
the vernacular. A remarkable house of his is Ena De Silva’s House (Fig. 7) in Colombo. In this house
nature has been synthesised with centuries of Sri Lankan history and tradition.
But, most importantly nature is at the centre of this design. The house would not
be the way it is if it was not for the wisdom of the past and of the land. The
Portuguese inspired roof is of terracotta clay tiles (Fig. 8); of the earth. The windows are from plant fibres. But most
importantly this house would not be the house it was if its centrepiece was not
the gnarled, old tree in the courtyard (Fig.
9).
This house and garden has been
designed with an understanding of the land , its permeability and its
materiality, the processes of time on the land and the importance of nature as
therapy. The courtyard tree is worshipped and not framed detachedly as in Le
Corbusier’s City of Tomorrow developments. Here Bawa shows he believes ‘that
man and nature are indivisible, and that survival and health are contingent
upon an understanding of nature and her processes’.[22]
In another project, Geoffrey
Bawa has gone further to bring nature into man’s realm where nature is allowed
to run its course without being overly constructed. In his Kandalama Hotel (Fig. 10), in Sri Lanka, nature runs
loose across the built environment in an eternal, wilderness sprawl. It is the
beauty of nature that is recognized here. It is the infinite contemplative
rewards we gain from being so close to nature that is recognized here. If man
and nature are to meet; then why not create an interface where both can exist
harmoniously?
Another architect that shows a
harmonious approach to nature for aesthetic and environmental reasons is
Friedensreich Regentag Dunkelbunt Hundertwasser. He is an eccentric architect
who saw and understood the undercurrents of nature and sought to bring this
understanding to the urban environment. His apartments in Vienna,
Hundterwasserhaus (Fig. 11), nature
becomes a ‘tenant’ in the apartments rather than an afterthought or a
subservient entertainer to man. These ‘tree tenants’ pay more rent than the
human occupants according to Hundertwasser. The trees, which are incorporated
into the building’s fabric, clean the air, attract birds, and create shade.
This element of the built
environment is looking at the future; the trees will hold up a constantly
changing environment within this building that human inhabitants will adapt to
rather than the other way around. This characteristic of the project is the
very characteristic that is absent in Olmsted’s Niagara Falls project which
failed to have the foresight to know the outcome of future years. The understanding
of nature present here in this building and its benefits to human beings
without it being subjugated and isolated in its context is one that creates a
strong mutual relationship between man and nature.
In conclusion, we are in a
time where perception of the landscape and nature needs to change. We need to
understand that what we strive for daily is temporal; but the ancient land that
we choose not to see or understand is not. I ask that we are inspired by the
land through our ancestor’s connections with the land through our instincts. I
ask that we re-think our attitude towards nature and adopt one of a child who
sees nature as parents who are guide, inspire and should be respected. I ask that
we appreciate and respect rather than become the master of nature. In terms of
design we can translate this understanding into a vernacular attitude where we
see the bigger picture; a de-centralized view of the world. That by adopting
vernacular philosophies we use art, history and tradition to create a bond with
nature. Landscape design is the
infrastructure of the future, it is the medium to bring man and nature together in
a mutual relationship. [23] It is the medium that will bring about mass
change and it is through well thought vernacular design that we can bring
nature to the forefront of our lives. We can invest spiritually into it and be
rewarded by its ancient vocabulary and wisdom. We must use design wisely to not
feed into temporal pleasures such as money and egos, but instead we must invest
it into the ever changing and ever guiding environment around us before it is
lost and we are lost with it. I no longer want to see us constructing nature;
but nature having a chance to speak in its own rich, beautiful language.
[1]
Anne Whiston Spirn, Constructing Nature;
The Legacy of Frederick Law Olmsted, New York: W. W. Norton, 1996, p.95
[2] Ibid,
p.96
[3] Ibid
[4] Ibid,
p.95
[5] Cited
in Elizabeth Meyer, Landscape
Architecture as Modern Other and Postmodern Ground, Melbourne: Edge
Publishings, 1994, p.16
[6] Cited
in Elizabeth Meyer, Landscape
Architecture as Modern Other and Postmodern Ground, Melbourne: Edge
Publishings, 1994, p.16
[7] Ibid,
p.14.
[8] Ibid
[9] Ibid,
p.4.
[10] Charles
Waldheim, The Landscape Urbanism Reader,
New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 2006, p.38
[11] Camillo
Sitte, City Planning According to
Artistic Principles, 1889,p.70.
[12] Ian
McHarg, The Plight in Design
With Nature, New York: 1969
[13] Camillo
Sitte ,p.72
[14]
Anne Whiston Spirn, p.93.
[15] Camillo
Sitte, ,p.59.
[16] Ibid
[17] Ibid. p.73
[18] Anne
Whiston Spirn, p.93.
[19] Ibid
[20] Ian
McHarg, The Plight
[21] Ibid
[22] Ibid
[23]
Richard Weller cited in Charles Waldheim, p.44.
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