Pools & Spas

Troughs and Trenches
The design and installation of the circulation, filtration and chemical-treatment systems for the pools at St. Lucia's Jade Mountain was a task of monumental proportions and extreme technical, physical and logistical difficulty.  The effort was spearheaded by watershaper/hydraulics expert Chris Barnes, who spent months on site installing precision systems engineered to provide years of nearly maintenance-free service. Installing the circulation systems for the pools at Jade Mountain was a challenge unlike any other. I was first approached about the project by my good friend, Skip Phillips, who explained that he had already been working on the project's design for several years and indicated that it was going to be something truly amazing.  He observed that the owner and his design team didn't have anyone in place with any experience with the installation of extremely complex watershapes and suggested that I might be the one to step up to the challenge and keep
Shimmer and Shine
Looking for a surface material as unique as the resort itself, the designers of Jade Mountain turned to David Knox of Lightstreams to create completely original tile products for use in the structure's 25 vanishing-edge pools, with each one to have its own unique colors and optical qualities.  Here, Knox describes the process of deploying glass tiles throughout one of the world's most unique and extensive watershape environments.   For me, Jade Mountain is not simply a resort in St Lucia:  It's more of a spiritual and artistic achievement - and one I helped fashion through a period of 15 months.   I felt that sense of operating on a higher plane during my first visit to the parent resort, Anse Chastanet, in March 2005.  There was something different about the project, just as there was
Shimmer and Shine
Looking for a surface material as unique as the resort itself, the designers of Jade Mountain turned to David Knox of Lightstreams to create completely original tile products for use in the structure's 25 vanishing-edge pools, with each one to have its own unique colors and optical qualities.  Here, Knox describes the process of deploying glass tiles throughout one of the world's most unique and extensive watershape environments.   For me, Jade Mountain is not simply a resort in St Lucia:  It's more of a spiritual and artistic achievement - and one I helped fashion through a period of 15 months.   I felt that sense of operating on a higher plane during my first visit to the parent resort, Anse Chastanet, in March 2005.  There was something different about the project, just as there was
Cutting Edges
They don’t come along very often, but every once in a while some of us are fortunate enough to become involved with a project that redefines what watershaping is all about. St. Lucia’s Jade Mountain was one of those remarkable opportunities, and no matter how long I’ll be in this business, I’m certain there will never be another project quite like this one.  For starters, it stands as perhaps the most extensive and spectacular all-time use of the vanishing edge – ever, anywhere – all set in one of the most unusual buildings ever imagined for a resort property in a location that is almost indescribably beautiful. The brainchild of architect/owner Nick Troubetzkoy, Jade Mountain is
Carving in Jade
I first came to St. Lucia in 1970 to work for a Canadian architectural firm based on the island.  As it has turned out, I never left. The beauty of St. Lucia’s landscapes, the warmth and character of its people and the unlimited potential to create something very special here captured my imagination.  It’s a Caribbean paradise one must experience personally to fully appreciate and understand. When I first encountered the property that is now home to Anse Chastanet and Jade Mountain in 1974, there was almost nothing here – a handful of small bungalows nestled in the rainforest across maybe five acres of land.  Amenities included four aluminum umbrellas and four plastic lounge chairs on the sand, and there was a lady who sat at the bottom of the stairs leading to the beach.  She had a cooler filled with Cokes and a bottle of local rum, enabling you to enjoy the beautiful setting and have a drink.  But the occupancy rate was very low and nothing about the place beyond the setting would make
Moving in Styles
If there's a constant in watershape and landscape design and construction, it's that clients are almost invariably different from one another. Through years of watching how others approach these singularities, we've seen some designers (and builders) who are so set in their ways that they limit what they're willing to provide.  Indeed, there even seems to be a bias in the industry at large toward elevating those designers who have a "trademark style."   In our company's case, however, repetition of styles and features is not something that gets us going:  Rather, we find it much more challenging and interesting to approach each project with fresh eyes and a genuine curiosity about our clients' dreams.    To that end, our approach at Verdant Custom Outdoors (San Diego, Calif.) is all about understanding our clients and avoiding any preconceptions about what we think they might want.  That in mind, we deliberately approach all clients and projects with a desire to meet individualized needs - a practice that has required us to become totally adaptable when it comes to both design and construction. To be sure, this approach adds a layer of complexity to what we do in that we start from scratch with every project.  Our process requires a great deal of research, but as we see it, it's always been an investment of time and resources that constantly
Moving in Styles
If there's a constant in watershape and landscape design and construction, it's that clients are almost invariably different from one another. Through years of watching how others approach these singularities, we've seen some designers (and builders) who are so set in their ways that they limit what they're willing to provide.  Indeed, there even seems to be a bias in the industry at large toward elevating those designers who have a "trademark style."   In our company's case, however, repetition of styles and features is not something that gets us going:  Rather, we find it much more challenging and interesting to approach each project with fresh eyes and a genuine curiosity about our clients' dreams.    To that end, our approach at Verdant Custom Outdoors (San Diego, Calif.) is all about understanding our clients and avoiding any preconceptions about what we think they might want.  That in mind, we deliberately approach all clients and projects with a desire to meet individualized needs - a practice that has required us to become totally adaptable when it comes to both design and construction. To be sure, this approach adds a layer of complexity to what we do in that we start from scratch with every project.  Our process requires a great deal of research, but as we see it, it's always been an investment of time and resources that constantly
Moving in Styles
If there's a constant in watershape and landscape design and construction, it's that clients are almost invariably different from one another. Through years of watching how others approach these singularities, we've seen some designers (and builders) who are so set in their ways that they limit what they're willing to provide.  Indeed, there even seems to be a bias in the industry at large toward elevating those designers who have a "trademark style."   In our company's case, however, repetition of styles and features is not something that gets us going:  Rather, we find it much more challenging and interesting to approach each project with fresh eyes and a genuine curiosity about our clients' dreams.    To that end, our approach at Verdant Custom Outdoors (San Diego, Calif.) is all about understanding our clients and avoiding any preconceptions about what we think they might want.  That in mind, we deliberately approach all clients and projects with a desire to meet individualized needs - a practice that has required us to become totally adaptable when it comes to both design and construction. To be sure, this approach adds a layer of complexity to what we do in that we start from scratch with every project.  Our process requires a great deal of research, but as we see it, it's always been an investment of time and resources that constantly
An Artisan’s Touch
 When I was a kid, the conventional part of my education in environmental design came in helping my father, Jay Stang, plant parkways and blocks of Pinus Pinea across the city.   The unconventional part - the part that apparently took firmer root as I grew up - had me admiring the plate he'd made from hardwood with the dozen split avocado pits he'd carved and mounted on the surface; it also had me listening to my mother, Judy Campbell, tell me that the earth was here first, that the garden already exists and that pathways, watershapes and structures are best built around what we find there. Those unconventional lessons - one about creativity and vision, the other about respect for nature and a method for approaching it - have stayed with me through the years and have given me access to a number of incredible projects. As is the case with most intriguing and fascinating designs, the one seen here flowed from a client with whom I developed a close creative connection that resulted in a free exchange of ideas¬ - a synchronized spontaneity that became a pattern for the entire design process.  She always had strong thoughts about what she wanted, but she allowed me to interpret and express her ideas based on our conversations and the nature of the site. As designers, it's not unusual for us to be called on to use our skills and figure out what a client such as this one really wants and then suggest ideas we think will work.  I call this process "environmental psychiatry" because, while so many clients have a sense of what they want and a laundry list of general ideas, few have a
An Artisan’s Touch
 When I was a kid, the conventional part of my education in environmental design came in helping my father, Jay Stang, plant parkways and blocks of Pinus Pinea across the city.   The unconventional part - the part that apparently took firmer root as I grew up - had me admiring the plate he'd made from hardwood with the dozen split avocado pits he'd carved and mounted on the surface; it also had me listening to my mother, Judy Campbell, tell me that the earth was here first, that the garden already exists and that pathways, watershapes and structures are best built around what we find there. Those unconventional lessons - one about creativity and vision, the other about respect for nature and a method for approaching it - have stayed with me through the years and have given me access to a number of incredible projects. As is the case with most intriguing and fascinating designs, the one seen here flowed from a client with whom I developed a close creative connection that resulted in a free exchange of ideas¬ - a synchronized spontaneity that became a pattern for the entire design process.  She always had strong thoughts about what she wanted, but she allowed me to interpret and express her ideas based on our conversations and the nature of the site. As designers, it's not unusual for us to be called on to use our skills and figure out what a client such as this one really wants and then suggest ideas we think will work.  I call this process "environmental psychiatry" because, while so many clients have a sense of what they want and a laundry list of general ideas, few have a