Back to Basics: landscapes, memory and developing style
As a landscape designer, I’m fascinated by the complexity of nature and how to create a scene that mimics the beauty of what we think of as “natural.” How do you create a wilderness that does not look contrived?
Rosa Finsley, the Landscape Architect whom I apprenticed under is a master of it. I always said to her that her landscapes look like they were created by God. But, after working with her for a while and studying nature more thoroughly, I realized that Rosa’s designs are actually more beautiful than anything that exists in the real wilderness. To me, her landscapes are an expression of how I think nature was intended to look; they are the epitome of what we consider “natural beauty.”
Kevin asked me to read a portion of Simon Schama’s Landscapes and Memory. If you haven’t read the book, consider yourself warned: it is not light by any standard; both academically and in size, it is dense with a capital “D.” The book explores the connection between culture and how we define landscape. Schama says that “Although we are accustomed to separate nature and human perception into two realms, they are, in fact, indivisible. Before it can ever be a repose for the senses, landscape is the work of the mind. Its scenery is built up as much from strata of memory as from layers of rock.”
I told you, it’s heavy stuff!
Rosa Finsley – Dallas Morning News, Matt Nager
Gotcher Garden – Rosa Finsley – Architectural Digest, June 2005
I must admit that I never before considered or thought to make the distinction between “land,” which is earth, and “landscape,” which Schama might call, Organized Earth. (Yes, that’s my own, less-than- esoteric description.) To Schama, a landscape by its very nature is imbued with value, perception and judgments; it has context and meaning. So, when we describe the “natural landscape,” we are also referring to a concept that has been created and defined by people. He reminds us that even Yellowstone was planned and designed. “Natural,” therefore, does not exist. “The wilderness, after all, does not locate itself, does not name itself,” he says. (I love that!)
I used to think that if I studied the work of other designer’s hard enough, I could create better designs. As if there were a secret formula to be deciphered, or some mathematical equation to solve, I would try to “figure out” a design by asking myself questions like “what’s appealing about it, and how did they use and combine plant materials, textures and color?” While understanding these elements are noteworthy, I now realize that this type of “analysis” really only addresses aesthetics – just one small element of a design.
If you’ve read my prior posts, you know that Kevin stresses the importance for designers to understand fundamentals. I knew that it was important, but I’m finally starting to understand how and why grasping the fundamentals makes for more meaningful and enlightened designs. Learning a few design tricks might make a pretty garden, but it doesn’t make art. Art is creating something new, reinterpreting an idea, presenting something old in an exciting new way. But, how can you turn an idea on its side if you don’t understand the basis of the idea itself?
Lasater – Rosa Finsley
Bartlit Residence – Rosa Finsley – Architectural Digest, David Marlow
Kevin suggested I watch a fascinating documentary called “The Universal Mind of Bill Evans.” Evans was one of the greatest jazz pianists of all time. He played with Miles Davis and won seven Grammy awards and 31 Grammy nominations. In the documentary, Evans describes his creative process and how he developed his individual style:
“It’s very important to remember that no matter how far I might diverge or find freedom in this format, it only is free insofar as it has reference to the strictness of the original form. And that’s what gives it its strength. In other words, there is no freedom except in reference to something.”
– Bill Evans in The Universal Mind of Bill Evans, 1966
In the film, Evans states that an artist cannot fully explore the creative process or develop an individual style without first understanding the framework of the craft in which the artist is working. He says that only after thoroughly learning the basics can artists begin to create and overlay their own style upon that framework. Again, fundamentals.
I think Rosa was able to develop her own style in much the same way. Her designs take the best examples of what she studied in nature and frame it in a way that tells her own visual story of those memories. Rosa’s designs are not an imitation of nature, but rather an interpretation of it. And it is the interpretation that defines for us, “what is natural” in a way that only Rosa can.
From now on, I am going to focus on the fundamentals of a design to understand the underlying framework and how it was interpreted. Making pretty gardens is nice, but I’d rather aim higher.
