Landscape, Plants, Hardscape & Decks
Like it or not, we’re all on the front lines of the environmental sustainability movement. In fact, as shapers of water and land, few are in better positions than we are to make a difference, with many of us frequently working alongside architects, municipal officials and developers and being asked to design and implement green approaches that minimize a given project’s effects on its surrounding environs. As I see it, this offers us not only a golden opportunity to shape the future of land development and architecture, but also to rise from
Whether you’re a watershaper or a landscape architect, designer or artist, I’ve always felt that those of us who work on exterior environments should stand on the front lines of the “green movement.” After all, we move the soil, alter the terrain, plant trees and shrubs and define the use of water, among many other things. In the course of doing what we do, in other words, we alter (sometimes profoundly) the environments in which our clients live and work. It seems the media are taking notice. Every year, for example, our
In my capacity as landscape consultant to a town near where I live, I was approached recently by a landscape architect who was just starting her career after graduating from a prestigious, five-year landscape architecture program in my home state of New York. She was designing a butterfly garden, she said, and wanted to know what plants to use. As I ran down the list, she asked me to stop at one name in particular and spell it. The plant in question was
In recent weeks, I’ve spent a good bit of time speaking to landscaping colleagues, garden clubs and symposium attendees about our general need to get smarter when it comes to how we think about landscapes. This is all part of my perpetual campaign to convince everyone to use the right plants in the right places in order to save water, labor and the fuels consumed in maintaining them. A big part of my pitch is one I’ve addressed before in this space – that is, I object to
In just about every profession, it seems that there’s one thing or another that goes unnoticed and underappreciated because it is overshadowed by more visible or sensational elements. In the watershaping and landshape trades, for example, I see foundations as being among these unsung details despite their obvious significance. They’re so important that I always talk with my clients about them and the role proper preparation plays in the success of everything atop them. After all, I say, a home can have wonderful tile work in the kitchen, but it really won’t be worth much unless
{Multithumb} Artificial rockwork is hardly new. In fact, its roots stretch back more than 100 years to Germany, where it was used for the first time to enliven zoological exhibits. Those early examples of artificial rockwork were decidedly crude – nothing more, really, than solid mounds of dumped concrete – but they met a need that couldn’t be accommodated by natural stone and made it possible to display hoofed stock (including antelopes and gazelles) on raised, natural-seeming terrains. Those early efforts were far from beautiful, and it’s no stretch to say that things have come a long way in the century since those first attempts took shape. Indeed, those of us who’ve worked in artificial rock for any length of time are proud to have witnessed the product’s evolution to a point where materials and techniques are now applied that are capable of transforming otherwise mundane settings into scenes of striking, naturalistic beauty. Certainly, deploying natural rockwork is another means of achieving the same end, but success often involves
Last month, I opened a two-part discussion on healing gardens, a trend in landscape design that’s become popular among managers at hospitals and other healthcare facilities who desire spaces where patients, visitors and staff can spend a bit of time in nature to heal, set aside stress and otherwise regenerate themselves. In the time since I first became involved with these spaces, I’ve also seen demand for these gardens – known in other contexts as “tranquility gardens” – grow among
Oftentimes, I end up wanting to use irregularly shaped or large, dimensional stones as a coping for my clients’ pools and as a veneer in finishing their decks. I know in doing so, of course, that the deck and its stone veneer must be isolated from the pool structure and the coping. I also know, of course, that random or dimensional stone generally doesn’t conveniently follow the isolation joint around the back edge of the bond beam. Nor, for that matter, will the stone pieces used in the deck align with
If you’ve ever spent time in the hospital, you’re probably like me in having done your best to forget the experience. Not only were you recovering from some sort of serious injury or illness (or visiting a loved one who was), but you also had to endure the process in an environment that wasn’t quite hospitable. Most likely the room you or your loved one occupied was filled by an adjustable bed surrounded by beeping instruments. The walls were putty-white and scuffed, a couple of cellblock-like doors led to the bathroom and hallway – and a worn-out television hung questionably above the bed, threatening to
Early in the history of garden design – dating back to the earliest days of civilization in Sumeria, Egypt and China – plants took center stage in garden spaces. Terraces and hanging gardens were built not for their innate ornamental qualities, but rather to display the plants they contained. Always, the prized plant was more important than its container. This preeminence of plant displays has been the rule rather than the exception throughout history, even
