A Story of Sexy Swales, Swirls and Stormwater

You and I are over 50% water, and water covers around 70% of our home planet.

Water is as fundamental to our survival as oxygen, yet we often take it for granted.

Next week I have the honour of giving a presentation to a wonderful group of people who make it their business to think about water.

My audience at the 8th International Water Sensitive Urban Design (WSUD) Conference will include the engineers, designers, scientists and policy makers who are at the cutting edge of thinking about water in our cities: how we get water when it’s dry; protect ourselves from it when it floods; treat and clean it; and how we manage the rivers, lakes and water bodies in our cities.

I’ll be talking about parks as a way of bringing people and water infrastructure together.

I’ve written about parks such as the Newtown Creeek Nature Walk before. The Nature Walk brings visitors bang up against New York’s biggest sewage treatment plant, and one of its most polluted waterways, yet still manages to provide a calm and artful oasis full of inviting moments.

Today we’re heading to the opposite side of the US, to visit Portland’s Water Pollution Control Laboratory.

The Water Pollution Control Laboratory is the red building in the centre of this image, surrounded by extensive gardens. Downtown Portland is on the opposite riverbank in the distance.

Whilst WSUD is still a new concept to many people, this building, and its surrounding water sensitive landscape was established in 1997.

Approaching the Centre, remnants of former structures remain visible.

The building is home to the Portland Bureau of Environmental Services Pollution Prevention Services, which monitors water quality in the surrounding area. Six labs totaling 1,400 m2 provide start-of-the-art facilities for testing and identifying environmental pollutants. 

The building itself features many cost-effective, energy efficient elements, including the large roof overhangs...

windows that can be opened

and generous spitters that direct rainwater into the gardens below.

Rocks directly below the spitters absorb the impact of the falling water, which then spreads into the garden beds, irrigating the plants and allowing the removal of waterborne pollutants. 

The garden beds form part of a landscape that educates visitors on alternative ways of managing pollutant-laden stormwater runoff. It treats the runoff from 20 hectares of surrounding streets, paths and neighbourhoods, as well as the lab’s carpark. 

The 60-car parking area is also water friendly, with runoff being directed towards lushly planted swales. The planting really breaks down the expanse of asphalt – in some areas the cars are all but hidden – and provides space for shade trees. 

Adjacent to the carpark are test plots, where different plant species are trialled for use. 

The centrepoint of the landscape though, is the 6,000 m2 water garden.

Water runoff enters via a rock lined channel, or flume, which slows it down. When it’s not raining this forms a sculptural element in the landscape. (Flume - what a great word! Flume. Flume Flume. I love it! Ahem...)

The water is then held in a pond, where it can be treated and either held on site, or released along a curving overflow into the river. 

Lush aquatic and emergent planting surrounds the pond, and a lookout platform allows you to get right out over the water.

The lookout viewed across the pond...

...and on approach.

From there you’re taken on a journey around the pond, through well established planting that at times screens out views of the pond, the building, and even the St Johns Bridge.

It’s a delightful place to visit, and I imagine a great place to work or to take your afternoon cycle (this is Portland after all!). 

The water garden was apparently a controversial element in early days. Even though the site had previously been used for industry, many local residents were concerned they would be getting another problem in their backyard, rather than an asset.

Effective monitoring and adaptation over time has ensured that the water garden functions well. And the initial decision to create a sculptural landscape, that integrated with the building and connected to its riverfront setting, has seen the Water Pollution Control Laboratory and gardens become a well-used, and much-loved landmark in the St Johns neighbourhood. 

Now it’s over to you.

What do you think of the Water Pollution Control Laboratory? What element most resonated with you? Was it the simple building details that make it a more comfortable place to work, like opening windows? How about the carpark, full of planting that cools the temperature and, let’s be honest, makes it a helluva lot more attractive that just a baking sea of asphalt? And what about the water garden, with its gorgeous stone walls combining with a serious purpose and function?

I’d love to know – please consider emailing or dropping me a line in the comments below.

Of course if you know anyone who’d enjoy this article, please feel free to share. There will be more from the wonderful world of landscape, architecture and design next week.

The multi-award winning building was designed by Miller Hull.

The landscape, also multi-award winning, was designed by Murase Associates.

The sculpture 'Raindrop', is by artist Don Merkt.

All images © Amalie Wright and Richard Buchanan.

Read more about this and other co-location parks in Future Park: imagining tomorrow's urban parks.

A Celebration of Texture: Sometimes the Bumpy Bits are the Most Interesting

Have you ever noticed the way reviewers will sometimes describe a book, or a film, or a character's life as being "richly textured".

This often seems to be shorthand for "they're up their ears in so much half-baked, chicken-with-its-head-cut-off, crazy-ass craziness, they don't know if they're coming or going".

As someone who has known a moment or two of richly textured life in my time, I thought it high time we trained our laser-like focus on the beauty and delight of the textures that surround us.

When so much of our lives is about streamlining and smoothing out the bumps, it's good to remember that the bumpy bits are often the most interesting.

The texture of things catches the light and the rain. Textures can invite or repel. Textures can be experienced with our eyes, our hands, our feet...and whatever else you're up for. The texture of things is critical to how we experience the spaces around us.

So that's it. Please enjoy this small collection of wonderfully textured paths, pavements, walls, artworks and plants. 

Textures evoke emotional responses: is this just a gate made of twigs or a doorway to Narnia?

What happens when stone walls don't shave for a few months...

Raw, robust, recycled concrete used as mulch. Mmmm.

You should by now be aware of my obsession with all things mossy. If I ever met Kate she'd be in trouble...

The forms of these succulents create a richly textured living carpet.

If the walls could talk...

If you've been to MONA in Hobart, you would have been as besotted as I with the gasp-inducing subterranean gallery carved out of the sandstone.

Runoff water follows the curve of this multi-textured stone spiral.

It's that magical public art from Portland again. The fineness of the inscribed linework contrasts beautifully with the heavy planes of the rock surface.

These pieces of stone look like they've been worn smooth by the water passing over.

The skill of great mosaic work: transforming hundreds of tiny pieces of sharp cut glass into a sensuous smooth curve.

The patina, colour and waving form of this weathered steel screen all create a sinuous, dynamic texture.

Radiating, pleating, folding...

The solid waxy texture of these aeoniums gives them the appearance of living sculptures.

Wim Delvoye's 'Concrete Truck' creates texture out of thin air...

The column is encircled in pebbles that look as if they're precariously balanced on top of each other: they're smooth so you want to touch, but it looks risky!

How many things would this old post have seen in its former undersea life?

I love plants that look deceptively spiky but have sneakily soft foliage.

Doesn't the sun kissing the windswept pennisetum make you want to get your cambric shift on and go all Kate Bush?

The softness of wet sand washed into braided wave patterns.

John Wardle Architects compose textures with bricks as musicians do with notes.

What did you think? Any favourites? Maybe there was a texture you hadn't considered before. I'd love to hear, so please let me know in the comments below.

And of course if you know someone else who'd enjoy this little dose of inspiration, feel free to share it.

Thanks for reading, and come back soon for more from the wonderful world of inspirational landscapes.

Things Are Peachy on the Bluewater Trail

Mackay, on the central Queensland coast, was once home to a woman, the wife of a manager of a sugarcane mill, who became so famous she had a dessert named after her.

Admittedly this is an unusual way to honour outstanding achievement, but then Dame Nellie Melba was no ordinary mill manager’s wife. Today Nellie Melba would not recognise the city where she once escaped the sweltering heat with musical gatherings at the School of Arts.

One thing she may enjoy though, is taking a gentle turn around the terrific Bluewater Trail.

Trail signage utilising salvaged wharf timber

In the past decade Mackay Regional Council has invested heavily in its Bluewater Trail. This multi-million dollar network is a remarkable linkage park, connecting people both back to and along a vast length of the Pioneer River from the Botanic Gardens to the rivermouth.

Sugar mill on the horizon - seen from the trail at the Botanic Gardens.

On an average winter weekend families cycle, kids and dogs in tow, shopping is transported, and fishing spots are crammed along the western segment of the Trail.

Crossing low-lying areas of the river plain.

Heading for the Catherine Freeman walk, named in honour of the Mackay-born athlete, gold medal winner at the 2000 Sydney Olympics.

This part of the former Hospital Bridge was retained as a fishing platform when the new bridge was built.

Midweek, the bluewater sparkles for tourists, mums and kids, more fishermen, and workers enjoying a quiet lunch beside the river on the Bluewater Quay precinct, through the city centre and beyond.

New inner-city fishing platform.

There are six distinct trail precincts: the Mackay Regional Botanic Gardens, Sandfly Creek Environmental walkway, Catherine Freeman walk, the free (and instantly popular) Bluewater swimming lagoon swimming, Bluewater Quay Public Open Space and Iluka Park.

The trail passes through the Botanic Gardens, at the edge of the lagoons.

Winter grevilleas.

Only west-facing ducks need apply...

Cascade at the Botanic Gardens.

Each has its own defining character.  Some areas focus on lush vegetation with very simple sweeping pathways. 

Others boast impressive public art installations.

Fishbones, by Fiona Foley, marks the start of the wharf precinct.

Sugar Cubes, by Fiona Foley, interprets the complex history of the district sugar industry.

Thumbprints are from the descendents of South Sea Islanders brought to Australia to work in the cane fields. The names of transporting ships appear on each 'sugar cube'.

Fiona Foley's Mangrove Cap, at the end of the trail.

Mangrove Cap, by Fiona Foley

Check it out in winter, when the days are clear and fresh.  In summer, when you feel like flaying off your own skin to escape the unrelenting humidity, seek out a shady spot, catch the afternoon breeze, and head home after for a treat of tinned peaches and ice cream.  Yum yum. Dame Nellie would be jealous.

Now it’s over to you.

What did you think of the Bluewater Trail? Is there an aspect of the park you’d most like to check out in person? Leave a comment below letting me know.

If you know someone who’d enjoy reading this article be sure to share it, and check back in a fortnight, when we'll be visiting a park with great lessons for home gardens and landscapes.

(pssst: Bluewater Trail is featured in my book. Check it out for more schweet Linkage Parks).

A Choice Day out at the Auckland Waterfront

How much do we love New Zealand, huh? If you’ve ever spent a lazy Saturday enjoying Auckland’s waterfront before the realities of winter set in, you’d be forgiven for thinking this was the slice of heaven Dave Dobbyn was singing about, not some pouty chick...or Footrot Flats. (Go on, listen to it.  Nothing better than a bit of da-da-da to put you in a good mood)

I enjoyed just such a day in mid-April, at the end of the brilliant IFLA landscape conference and Gibbs Farm sculpture park field trip.  Judging from the crowds, about half of Auckland had the same idea.

Auckland has one of the kick-ass-est harbours in the whole world, and sailing seems to be a compulsory activity. Boats from all round the globe cosy up to each other in the berths. Just how sassy is Janice of Wyoming?

You can easily walk to the waterfront from the downtown area. If you’re coming from further afield the main Britomart train and bus station is just on the water’s edge. And if you’re heading for one of the harbour islands, this is the place to catch the ferry.

Auckland city was born at the waterfront in 1840. For a long time before that, the harbour was a vital, sacred part of Maori life. In recent years, spurred by hosting the 2000 America’s Cup and the 2011 Rugby World Cup, the working harbour has been gradually inviting the public back in. You can read more about the redevelopment, including the different precincts (Wynyard Quarter, North Wharf, Karanga Plaza, Silo Park and more) on the Waterfront Auckland website.

Here are my favourite moments: 

1. Lay out the Welcome Mat

This supergraphic barcode helps pedestrians navigate two carparks connected by an operating bascule bridge on their way to Wynyard Quarter.

2. Pop-up Library

Here, another welcome mat is laid out. This time it’s artificial turf that marks a little gathering spot in front of a shipping container library. Lilliputian furniture can be moved around to suit the sun.

3. Containers

Why stop at just one. The information kiosk deftly stacks containers into a sculptural heap to anchor one corner of Karanga Plaza. The public loos are here too, and it makes a natural backdrop for events and performances. The day I visited there was a piano in the plaza (tick!) and students played all day to advertise an upcoming concert. Special mention should also go to the superbly attired lady whose fabulous orange trousers hit just the right note beside the containers.  Respect.

4.  Different Types of Seats

Sometime different types of furniture can make a place look untidy and feel disjointed. That doesn’t seem to be the case here, maybe because the bridge crossings, changing path widths and varying neighbours make each of the precincts along the waterfront feel different anyway.

The seats in Karanga Plaza roll back and forth on rails. They’re also great if you and your friends can’t bear to be apart for even a moment.  The seats along North Wharf look like miniature versions of the piled-up shipping containers.  The seats outside the Viaduct Event Centre are bar stool height, behind a long concrete counter.

5.  Oasis

At the end of North Wharf, before it erupts into a giant playspace, is this quiet pocket with places to sit out of the hustle and bustle.

6.  Playtime on Steroids

Pros: This massive wonderland of play imagines what this part of the sea was once like. Giant shells, barnacles and other creatures can be climbed over, sat on or spun around and around. There’s also nets and swingy things, a vast bed of sand and a low wall of stones for practicing clambering and balancing. At the end of the play area is the sculpture Wind Tree, relocated from its former city home to a new shallow reflecting pond.  It doesn’t take much grey matter to figure out that this also attracts kids like crazy.

Cons: it’s so big because this is apparently a future development site. Let’s hope some place for play remains and it doesn’t all turn into a dreary, but revenue-generating, 9-5 office building.

7. Sexy Water Management

This is not just some pretty planting behind the containers, although it does look great.  Look closely and you can see that the planting beds are set down below the paving.  This allows water to run off into the planting where it’s filtered and cleansed before going back into the harbour.

The same thing happens at Silo Park at a much bigger scale. Stormwater runoff here is directed into a long linear channel, densely planted again, and criss-crossed with paths.

8.  Working

I love most about this part of Auckland’s waterfront is that it’s very much a working harbour.  The navy occupies a vast land holding to the east, and there is an gigantic shrink-wrapped vessel being repaired down near Silo Park. All very cloak-and-dagger.

Whilst disused silos form the backdrop to Silo Park, the silos of the bulk storage facility dominate the scene.  Some are painted and act as huge sculptural installations behind the gantry.

These sites operate around-the-clock, constantly bringing life, activity and people to the waterfront.

It’s a delicate balance, essential to get right, but for me it would be disastrous if all of this stretch of harbourfront was ‘cleaned up’ and industrial activities moved on to somewhere ‘out of sight’.

9.  Gantry

This 12m high, 110m long structure was built to 'screen' the bulk storage tanks behind.  Climb to the top and you'll get a great view into this part of the harbour that I find just as interesting as the parks and promenades, maybe more so.

It also reveals long views back towards the city, and along the entire waterfront public places, and is a perfect spot to watch life unfold.

10.  Weddings, Parties, Anything

The waterfront is a go-to place for quality Auckland people-watching and overheard conversations:

“I never knew this place was ****ing here, bro.”

“I know, bro.”

In just a few hours I saw plenty of tourists, but also locals who’d come down for a function, a wedding party having photographs taken, kids riding bikes, people running and exercising, those who’d brought their lunch with them, those who were headed for a restaurant, and those who were lining up for a pie or a coffee or a smoothie to have while sprawling at the picnic tables or on the lawn. Little kids were in the playground, bigger kids were at the basketball court.  The temporary summertime stalls were busy and the summer movie nights were still being advertised. Students lounged, couples canoodled, and the blue sky hung on as long as it could overhead.

And that’s the secret to great public space – enabling all different types of people feel welcome.

What do you think? If you’ve visited the Auckland Waterfront recently how did you find it? Leave a comment below letting me know what you liked best.

If you know someone who’d enjoy reading this article be sure to share it, and check back soon for more from the wonderful world of parks, gardens and landscapes.

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!