Delight: the girl in pink

This week we’re trialling a new addition to the Landscapology blog.

Delight will be an occasional post featuring something curious and delightful that doesn’t really fit within our regular Design 101 sessions or stories about great parks, gardens and landscapes.

Today is the wonderful girl in pink, who emerged out of a compound of small stone buildings beside the Karakorum Highway, high in the mountains of western China, and quietly walked over to watch our bus roll past, with its cargo of Silk Road tourists.

When it’s been raining for a long time, and the sky is grey, I often think of how strikingly she commanded attention in that clear, cold, breathtaking and harsh landscape.

Design Class: elephants never forget...and they can teach you how to read drawings

Have you ever had a designer invite you to go through some drawings? Has this given you pause for concern, worried that you’ll be confronted with a pile of papers full of squiggles and lines that make no sense whatsoever? 

Fear not.

This is actually a really common concern.  For some it can be worrying enough that they actually delay a much dreamed-about project.  Of course, your designer should be doing everything possible to guide you through, but it’s still important that you can read drawings with confidence.

Why?

You can make sure that everything you’ve discussed and agreed with your designer is incorporated.

You have a clearer idea of what the finished product will look like and how it will function.

You will feel more empowered and able to participate fully in the design process – after all, having your new house, garden or renovation designed should be an exciting and rewarding experience!

Today we’ll start right at the beginning, and look at the basic principles of reading drawings. And as this fear is often the elephant in the room at design meetings, we’ll use one of those lovely creatures as our life model for this session. 

Most projects will start with planning. Plans are the way designers make sure everything is in the right location and that everything will function properly.

Plans

Plans show what your project looks like from above.  A ground floor plan shows the building level closest to the ground, and it usually shows what’s happening about a metre above the actual ground level.  Our elephant pal Trunky’s ground floor plan would look something like this:

Buildings usually have a roof plan too. Imagine you were in a plane flying overhead. If you looked down, what would you see?  For our obliging friend it would be something like this:

Elevations

What about how the outside looks?  To describe that we use Elevations. Each elevation shows what the project looks like from a different side.  To describe Trunky we would use a front elevation,

a rear elevation,

and a side elevation:

Sections

The next thing to describe is how things are made, and how the different spaces work in three dimensions. To do this we use Sections. A section is like a slice through the building or garden.  Sections show things such as how the ground floor and upper floor work together; how stairs work; or how a swimming pool sits in the ground next to a terrace.

Let’s see what’s going on inside Trunky. If you imagined him sliced in half through from trunk to tail, and looked at the cut surface, you’d get a section something like this:

So there you have it.  You can apply this technique to reading any drawings, and it’s easy if you stop and remember that:

Plans show something from above;

Elevations show the surfaces of something from outside;

And Sections are slices through something to see how they fit together on the inside.

Of course, things can get more detailed (and potentially more confusing!) than this, and there are different types of drawings for different stages of a project, but these basic principles remain the same.

Now it’s over to you.  Have you ever been surprised with the way something has turned out on a project, because you weren’t 100% certain from the drawings how it was going to work?  What else would you like to know that would help you read drawings more confidently?

Let me know in the comments section.

Why Madrid Loves Peter Allen...

Who knew Madrilenos were such Peter Allen fans?

When their baby smiles at them they go to Rio…Madrid Rio that is…a 10-kilometre long park that stretches along the Manzanares River (or rio) from just behind the Royal Palace.

Image: bgaa via Wikimedia Commons. http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mrio_rio.jpg

What’s even more amazing is that this brilliant park was created by sending 43 kilometres of motorway underground.

Yep, like so many cities Madrid built its freeway system up to and along its river. However, unlike so many cities, it eventually decided that wasn’t such a great idea after all. So underground they went, freeing up literally hectares of land to be converted back to publicly accessible riverfront parkland. Go Madrid!

Naturally this undertaking wasn’t cheap, and Spain’s not exactly flush with cash at the mo, but that hasn't stopped a gazillion Madrilenos (and a equally enthusiastic tourist contingent) from strutting their stuff along their fabulous new promenade. A year or so ago I was lucky enough to join them.

Not many parks can offer 'something for everyone' and actually deliver. Madrid Rio is so huge that it probably can. Here are a few of the highlights: 

It’s Sunny

Apple sauce with your crackling?

As the northern hemisphere moves into summer, sun worshipping Madrilenos can take full advantage of the opportunities for outdoor basking.  These ladies were taking it so seriously I felt like offering a little apple sauce as an accompaniment.

It’s Shady

For those who believe the best place to be at midday is out of the sun, Madrid Rio offers deep shady groves and long avenues of mature trees.  As someone who can burn just looking at a picture of the s-u-n, those deep pools of dark shadow were calling my name, let me tell you.

Landscape with SPF15 rating.

It’s Playful

Two of the new bridges connecting the riverbanks hide a glorious secret. Hidden inside their rough concrete shell, and visible only to those crossing the river, are amazing mosaic tile artworks depicting skateboarders. Leaping, grinding, ollying – they’re all there – larger than life, embraced and celebrated.

So how do you say 'olly' in Spanish?

The real-life models for the mosaic can be found further along, at the skatepark and basketball hoops.

For those not yet aspiring to the life of the grind there’s a very big playground, and a brilliant climbing structure made of lashed-together logs and poles.

And for those even younger, there’s the universal allure of the pop-jet fountain.

There’s Water

The pop-jets sit in a sheer disk of water, reflecting the implacable blue sky. Emboldened toddlers totter around. Then the jets start popping and it’s chaos all round.

'Pop jet': kid-speak for 'I'm going to get my kit off and go completely beserk'.

'Pop jet': kid-speak for 'I'm going to get my kit off and go completely beserk'.

Elsewhere the water runs in a cool, dark, fern-lined rill, beside the shady avenue of trees.

Ripples and reflections.

It’s About Madrid

Seems kinda obvious, but not every park says something about its location. Madrid Rio tells you stories, if you listen carefully. Amongst them:

It tells you this is a place dry enough for a public park to to be clothed in large expanses of decomposed gravel, and it's not a complete disaster if the lawn isn't doing too well.

It tells you about its temperate location, with swathes of lavender and groves of pines.

Uh oh. Is that some temperate climate lavender envy? I think it might be.

It tells you that the Avenida de Portugal used to be the ceremonial route to the Palace from the west, or the way to Lisbon from Madrid. That’s why it’s been given special treatment. In West 8’s design, the pattern of paving and even seating references the cherry blossom-filled valley that provided respite on the long journey.

Blossoms cover the ground, even when there are no flowers.

It’s Connected

Most wonderfully, Madrid Rio connects people with a part of the city that for so many years was lost to them. Now, they can once again get to the river, cross it, journey along it, and enjoy it at all different times of the year.

The fabulous Puente Arganzuela

For me, that’s perhaps the most significant thing that this park has achieved. Not only does Madrid Rio create lots of wonderful individual moments, it achieves linkages and connections on a citywide scale.

Madrid is one of many cities around the world that have unlocked the potential of their riverfronts. Other cities and countries are creating new linkages by unlocking road and rail corridors, or political and military boundaries.

If you’d like to read more about Madrid Rio, check out the chapter on Linkage Park projects in my book Future Park: imagining tomorrow’s urban parks.

What did you think of Madrid Rio. If you’ve visited recently, what did you think? I’d love to hear if you know of a place where riverfront parkland could replace freeways. Let me know in the comments.

See some more images of Madrid Rio in the gallery below and check back soon for another Great Park.

Design Class: but how does it make you feel?

Have you ever heard designers speak about the way something feels?

Has it given you pause for concern, worried that any moment now someone's going to grab your hands, look deep into your eyes and ask you to share your feelings? 

Fear not.

What we're talking about here are the qualities that affect how you feel when you’re in a particular room, garden, house, building, park, or city - any place really. 

How does this place make you feel?

A bit freaked out, maybe? Is it overwhelming?  The edges are a long way away if you're standing there in the middle. There’s nowhere to find shelter or privacy.  Everything you did would be on full display.  Unless you're a despotic dictator with need to frequently remind your peoples of your terrific might and power, you'd be unlikely to feel especially relaxed in such a place.

How about this place?

It’s different, isn’t it? It’s a lot more enclosing and protective for one.  Perhaps you find it more welcoming.

This one?

Some people might find this place private, secure and serene. Others might find it a bit isolating.

Why is this important?

If you start to notice and understand how different places make you feel, it’s much easier to describe how you want places in your home or garden to feel. And once you know, it’s much, much easier to work towards achieving that feeling, or quality.

There’s lots of ways to achieve the quality you’re after, and we’ll talk about some of them in future Design 101 topics.

Now it’s over to you.

Think about your favourite place, either at home or somewhere you’ve visited.  Now tell me what qualities it has – how does it make you feel when you’re there?

Let me know in the comments section.

If you found this useful and interesting, consider sharing it with a friend, and I’ll see you soon for more Design 101.

Elvis Costello’s Landscape Lessons: 10 ideas from installation gardens

What exactly was Elvis Costello on about when he crooned "I don't want to go to Chelsea"?

I like to imagine an unfortunate childhood incident involving too much sunshine and an overdose of roses and sugary drinks courtesy of Great Aunt Fanny dragging the innocent lad around that fine bastion of Englishness, the Chelsea Flower Show.

I'm sure someone will set me straight.

Elvis notwithstanding, as the world’s gardening eyes turn this week to the opening of the 2013 Chelsea Flower Show, it seems a good time to chat about festival gardens. Can these temporary installation gardens provide clues to benefit our home landscapes, or are they a just a bit of a novelty, and waste of precious resources?

The worst garden festivals are truly throw-away. They last barely a few days, and a huge amount of time and effort is invested in making instant gardens that end up in landfill. The best garden festivals do things differently, often using materials and plants that can be recycled or reused, mulched or donated.  Most importantly, they invite us to think about our gardens and landscapes in different ways.

Here are 10 Ideas from Installation Gardens that can be used to help shape your own landscape. 

1. Mystery

Should Alice go left, where the path looks clear? Or right, and into that curious archway? 

2. Texture

There’s a fine, gravelly deco path. There’s wildly looping grass. There’s soft leaves and feathery flower heads… 

3. Colour

Red contrasts with green, right? So does crimson, pink, magenta and maroon. The varied shades and shapes of the flowers and foliage build the intensity of colour. 

4. Restraint

A small garden representing Australia, where the deliberately restrained enclosing grasses and simple red earth invite stillness and silence, and focus attention on the central floor artwork. 

5. Whimsy

Did you smile when you saw these big woven onion thingys? Course you did. And wait till the nasturtiums completely take over and you have a big onion-shaped nasturtium thingy instead. 

6. Detail

You squinted to get a closer look, right? These tiny flowers and seeds sandwiched between sheets of perspex show the fragility and beauty of everyday plant species. The miniature size forces us to look closely. Small things are as important as the big stuff. 

7. Delight

Like frozen raindrops, how lovely are these strings of suspended glass balls? 

8. Surprise

As the fog starts drifting out of this valley the air smells different, the colours changes, you hold the handrail a little tighter, and all the senses are tuned in. 

9. Art

Held in an adjacent out-building, this festival exhibition also challenged visitors to reconsider gardens, nature and landscape. Did the chair legs sprout and start growing into trees, or were the trees there first, with a seat added later? 

10. Stewardship

A reminder that every time we make a garden, park or city, we make choices. Each of the labels in this garden lists the name of an endangered or extinct plant species. The absence of the plants themselves makes the message more poignant. 

11. Time

OK, so there's really 11! One of the most magical aspects of landscape is time. This festival is held in the grounds of a 15th century chateau. Renaissance garden and contemporary festival co-exist, in a landscape that becomes both timeless and timely. 

These images are all from the International Garden Festival, held every year in Chaumont-sur-Loire. Although the festival theme changes yearly, the over-arching aim of the festival is to inspire people to think differently about what a garden is, and can be. Garden festivals are but one of a range of temporary or installation parks that challenge us to re-think our landscapes. I find them so intriguing that I’ve devoted a whole chapter of my forthcoming book to discussing the world of Installation Parks.  But that's a whole other Elvis Costello song.

Now I want to hear from you.

Which of the 10 Ideas most appealed to you and why? Which can you see working in your garden landscape? Leave a comment below and let me know.

Know someone who might enjoy this article? Be sure to share it with your friends. See you soon for more landscape inspiration.

Big Prawn...Yawn: THIS sculpture park features the biggest from the world’s best

There’s nothing I love more than the opportunity to explore a new landscape. And if that landscape also happens to contain a couple of artworks, so much the better.

So it was with edge-of-the-seat anticipation that I joined 39 other curious people recently, on a bus headed to Gibbs Farm, about an hour north of Auckland.  The site visit was one of several on offer at the International Federation of Landscape Architects annual conference.

Although I was naturally fascinated to see the rural landscapes north of the city, (many with rich, diverse histories, and others under threat of encroachment by the growing city) it was the art that was calling my name.

But first some background.

Gibbs Farm is owned by Alan Gibbs, a well-known and uber-successful New Zealand businessman. He bought the original property over 20 years ago, and has added incrementally to his holdings. The farm lolls its way over rolling ridges, gullies and flats, in an ancient landscape surrounded by the stupendously spectacular Kaipara Harbour, the largest in the Southern hemisphere.

The scale of the landscape has, unintentionally, driven the art agenda: most of the works are the largest the artists have ever produced. From afar they look tiny, even insignificant. It’s not till you’re standing face-to-face with a 6 metre high rusted steel wall that the true scale actually registers.

So who are the artists who have created these vast wonderments?

Let’s start with that 6 metre high wall.

That would be Richard Serra’s Te Tuhirangi Contour (1999/2001). 

It’s made of 56 Corten steel plates, each 50mm thick and 6 metres high, and it runs for 252 metres.  That’s almost the length of 1-and-a-half jumbo jets. 

According to the visitor guide the “…steel plates lean out 11 degrees from the vertical and trace a single contour line across the land in a way that, in the artist’s words, “collects the volume of the land.”” 

This wall draws you in. The forty of us from the bus set off cross-country with hive mind determination. Like lemmings to the cliff we made for that wall. 

Once there, each panel continued to mesmerise, with miniature rusty landscapes of colour and pattern and texture extending out along the surface. 

Looking up for a moment, it was possible to see something on the distant horizon: a few bent paper clips perhaps? 

A reasonable hike instead revealed it to be Horizons, by Neil Dawson (1994).  Without something to give it scale, it looks like a wonderfully light calligraphic drawing, or maybe a piece of paper caught just at a moment of billowing in the breeze. 

Instead it’s a brilliant trompe l’oeil, etched in steel some 15 x 10 x 36 metres, and suggesting “…a giant piece of corrugated iron blown in from a collapsed water tank on some distant farm.” 

If Serra’s work collects the land, Dawson’s collects the sky. 

Over the course of the day clear blue skies, white clouds, and finally lowering greyness all settled in behind, colouring in the finely drawn linework of Horizons. 

We’re on a ridgeline now, and only the briefest of trudges brings us face-to-face with another gobsmacking sculpture. 

This one has “a fleshy quality which the artist describes as being “rather like a flayed skin”.” Ummm...choice, bro. 

Engagingly titled Dismemberment, Site 1 (2009), this work, by the fabulous Anish Kapoor, is compelling. 

Two vast elliptical steel rings are placed 85 metres apart, and a taut reddy-pinky membrane fabric stretches anatomically between. 

In the presence of such a strange and disquieting object it only seemed fitting that a lone, and apparently quite friendly emu came up to join us as we sat down to lunch. 

From this part of Gibbs Farm the Kaipara is close. The landscape plunges down to the beach, and the huge receding tides. We follow, until the Loch Ness monster stops us in our tracks. 

Looking closer, its arching loops are of no marine origin. Instead they are made of Scottish sandstone, each block 1.4m2. 

Together these 11 structures make up Arches (2005) by Andy Goldsworthy. 

I imagine they look utterly gorgeous in the sun, but in the late afternoon gloom they took on a mysterious quality which was only enhanced by the flock of sheep which suddenly ran along the foreshore to visit their local merino henge. 

Were these four works all that was on offer, one could go away a happy person.  Amazingly though, the hit parade continues, with gigantor works by Richard Thompson, Sol LeWitt, Daniel Buren, Maya Lin, Bernar Venet and more. It will be interesting to see how many more great works the site can support: given their vast scale they really do need breathing space around.

We were fortunate to be led on our tour by well-known New Zealand landscape architect Garth Falconer. He has been discussing, designing and debating the Gibbs Farm landscape for nearly as long as it’s been operating, and his generous, thoughtful and knowledgeable presence brought many insights to our day.

For those who are Garth-less, don’t despair. Gibbs Farm is open monthly by appointment. Find out more at their website. Take your walking shoes, get off the roads and paths, and enjoy a wonderfully stimulating day engaging with eye-popping artworks in an amazing setting.

Now it's your turn. If you were Alan, who would you invite to create the next uber-artwork for Gibbs Farm? Let me know who and why. And if you enjoyed this article, be sure and share it with your friends so they can have a say too!