garden design
I'm endlessly fascinated by project failures. Just like a driver slowing down to view a traffic mishap, I'm irresistibly drawn to collapsed retaining walls, sunken patios, rows of dead trees, out-of-level decks and various other landscape catastrophes. Whatever has happened, these projects capture my attention. To be sure, these failures don't approach the gravity of problems that might arise with large architectural structures, but that doesn't lessen our
Beautiful gardens make us happy. When we walk through or by them on the way to our daily activities; when we happen upon them while driving from one place to another; when we deliberately make them our destination - whatever the circumstances, beautiful gardens bring smiles to our faces and a sense of balance and serenity to
Like most everything in life, "Natural Companions" has evolved through the years. When I first started writing this column in 1999, I focused primarily on topics related to combining plants and watershapes and wrote a lot about surrounding hard structures with greenery in sensible and sustainable ways. As the New Year approaches, I've been thinking about how things have changed with the column and where it's now heading. I distinctly recall having the sense about four years ago that
It'd be great if every project I was asked to tackle were about the complete environment - not only the planting plan, but also the watershapes, artworks, amenities and everything else a client might desire. That doesn't happen often enough, probably because my portfolio is much richer in planting plans than it is in watershapes. But from time to time I find clients who have faith in me and my abilities as a designer and give me total control. Late last year, I was fortunate enough to come across one such project. I had originally been brought in to
During a lifetime of driving up and down the part of Sunset Boulevard where it finally meets the Pacific Ocean, I'd often noticed the sign pointing to "Lake Shrine" but had never taken the time to stop and have a look. I suppose the "shrine" part of it made me think it was the exclusive preserve of adherents or members of the Self-Realization Fellowship - an organization I knew nothing about other than that their facility was in one of Los Angeles' most beautiful locations. I finally overcame my hesitation about visiting the Lake Shrine a couple years ago, when a friend told me it was a place where people of all faiths and religions were welcome to stroll, meditate and enjoy the tranquility of the setting. Curiosity overcame skepticism and I finally visited the place. What I found at the Lake Shrine was a serene, calm, meditative oasis of lush, beautiful gardens surrounding a lake. To this day many years later, the minute I drive through the entrance gate, I'm always swept up by sensations of serenity and peace - and have since
As an artist, I tend to look at the world with an eye to "distinction" - that is, what makes certain objects stand out, what makes them appear round, what makes them catch my eye, what makes me notice them. By contrast, most "civilians" notice overall appearances. If they're in a garden, for example, they will enjoy the sea of shapes and colors and will generally respond to a particular plant or design element only if it really stands out in some way. Knowing this, I like to play in my garden designs with elements of visual control and on finding ways to direct what the viewer will look at first, then second and so on. In lots of my gardens, I use trees to capture this sort of attention. Even uninspired observers will take note of
I was all set to write a column about the virtues of small jobs compared to big jobs, but I've had an experience that leads me to share something more important with you this time. Most of us have had these moments in our lives in which we are suddenly jarred into evaluating our existence for one reason or another - episodes that give us reason to pause and reflect on who we are and what we're doing and why we're doing it. As I write this, I'm dealing with an illness in my family that has quite literally knocked the legs out from under me. As I've spent time these past few days talking with friends and relatives, I've found myself quite often laying on the living-room couch and staring out the window into my backyard - and finding
Watershaping advanced by leaps and bounds from 1999 through 2004 – a journey of artistry…
Quite often, my clients will preface our design discussions with the statement that they want to see flowers in bloom throughout the year. They just hate it, they say, when the garden looks "bare" from December to February. In my opinion, they're just not seeing the possibilities their gardens have to offer. In fact, winter is my favorite time of the year, and it's about more than the holidays, the gift giving (and receiving!) and the chilly temperatures: Mainly, it's about my love affair with winterscapes. It may be because I'm a northeasterner somewhere deep inside, but I love the fact that colder climates, with their snow and other weather inclemencies, require those with gardens to
My daughter and I just returned from our annual trip to visit family in Connecticut and used the occasion this time to travel all over the northeast - from Boothbay Harbor, Portland and Camden in Maine to Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket and other parts of Massachusetts as well as slices of New Hampshire and Rhode Island. I'm never disappointed by the beauty I find in that part of the country. The landscapes are much lusher than they are at home in southern California, a fact that drives home the point that I spend most of my time in a desert. The old-growth trees back east are
