experience
Almost every advertisement for watershapes I’ve ever seen in a newspaper or the Yellow Pages says something about “custom” this or “custom” that. It always leads me to wonder how to differentiate between the “custom,” “high-end” and “luxury” pools others devise and the “architectural pools” or, better yet, the “aquatic art” I strive to create. I prefer the last two terms because
When people talk about pools these days and have something ambitious in mind, many of the conversations focus on vanishing edges, perimeter overflows, infinity edges, knife edges, wet decks, disappearing edges and whatever other terms one might use in describing water-in-transit effects. In lots of these cases, if not most, these discussions are misdirected: Just because
Whenever I work with clients who want to make an artistic statement with their watershape or landscape designs, I commonly start by asking, “What’s your inspiration?” That simple question cuts right to the heart of the matter: It prompts them to discuss their memories, preferences, influences and tastes while also encouraging them to think in artistic and even emotional terms about what they want. This gets them excited about the process – and gives me some much-needed
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
Not to diminish the painted ponies of The Wizard of Oz, but Steve Mann’s hydraulophones are horses of a different color. These watershapes come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, from landmark centerpieces that have the sculptural grandeur of pipe organs all the way down to water-flutes that resemble brightly colored tadpoles. What’s most remarkable about these devices isn’t just their structural and artistic variety or the ways they look as visual art: It’s the sounds they make. At first, the natural comparison is to a pipe organ, but as you listen, a variety of shadings and other sonic reverberations emerge, slip and slide around you. What’s more, hydraulophones invite people to insert their fingers into the jetting water to shape the sound and squeeze out the shape of each note, and a variety of sonic textures are possible depending upon
It's a plain fact: Few designers weigh maintenance as heavily as other elements of a design when creating gardens for their clients. Most will routinely ask whether the client wants a low-maintenance environment or one that requires a little more work and may yield a greater abundance of flowers or other desirable features, but the consideration typically ends there. And this is so despite the fact that by leaving maintenance out at the design level, landshapers often doom themselves to
In last month's "Detail," I discussed the beginning stages of a new project that has my partner Kevin Fleming and me pretty excited. At this point, the pool's been shot and we're moving along at a good pace. I'll pick up that project again in upcoming issues, but I've brought it up briefly here to launch into a discussion about something in our industry that mystifies me almost on a daily basis. So far, the work we've done on the oceanfront renovation project has been focused on a relatively narrow band of design considerations having to do with the watershape and its associated structures. This focus is
If there's one thought that permeates every page, every word and every photograph in this publication, it is this: The creation of something outstanding, something that stirs an emotional response, something that establishes an ongoing, extraordinary experience for clients and anyone else who sees our work all starts with the passion we have in our hearts for art and its intimate relationship to what we do as watershapers. That's a big concept. Really big. And I believe that unless you appreciate and (on some level) understand the raw power of artistic creation, then what you generate will seldom be
Reader Chris Walton asked a great question in response to comments I've made in a couple of recent columns about the value of detailed plans: "Why do we in the pool industry lump sales, design and project assessment into one job description?" In the message surrounding his question, he explained in some detail that his firm, PoolDizine, Inc., of Jacksonville, Fla., takes basic plans and proposals for swimming pools and other watershapes and turns them into complete and extremely detailed sets of construction documents and plan drawings that can be used in generating accurate bids and that also provide detailed specifications for the construction process. To be sure, he has an interest in altering
