sculpture
There's something intriguing about heavy objects that float on water. In our daily lives, we often see traditional fountains made with utterly huge pieces of stone, but as gorgeous and compelling as those systems can be, it's the ones in which that stone moves that are the most fascinating of all. The very idea that you can move a massive piece of granite with just the slightest touch of a hand is simply mesmerizing. These floating objects become centerpieces immediately - a fact that has led to their proliferation in plazas and other public spaces around the
It has always bothered me a bit that designers tend to restrict their thinking to just the physical area that fits the definition of their design specialty. Landscape designers stick to outdoor spaces and interior designers work on interior ones - and seldom the twain shall meet. To my way of thinking, that's shortsighted - which is just one of the reasons I'm both a landscape designer and an interior designer. I would argue that, when it is appropriate, professionals on both sides of the divide need to open their eyes and work with the visual flow through and between clients' interior and exterior spaces to achieve optimal design results. As landscape professionals, we already accept the importance of the "borrowed view," a wonderful term used to describe the deliberate capturing of other properties' assets by creating living or artificial frameworks that make them an artistic component of our clients' landscapes. If we are good at capturing neighboring views for our landscapes, I'd suggest it's a short step to make certain that we achieve the same sorts of wonderful views between the
It's amazing how the traditions of art and craft tracing back through centuries still inform today's designs. That's particularly true in the field of garden ornamentation, where modern statuary, fountains, vases and seating elements take their cues from original works found in ancient Greece and China, in Renaissance Italy and France - and from just about every other era and location around and between. This depth of available imagery is both a boon and a challenge to those in the business of supplying garden ornaments to today's architects, landscape architects, watershapers and their clients. There's just
As milestones go, the project depicted in these pages has been a big one for me - and for lots of other people as well. The grand estate with its outsized home is located in the countryside near Hanover, Pa., a remote setting that offered a set of challenges that has in many ways redefined what is and isn't possible in a whole region when it comes to watershape design, engineering and construction. A full two-and-a-half years in the making (a period broken up, of course, by stretches in which there was no activity on site), this stands as one of
The most famous artists and designers often become known for one particular style or motif. When we see the cubism of Pablo Picasso or the drip paintings of Jackson Pollack, for example, we firmly link those distinctive artistic "moves" with the artists themselves. In some cases, those associations are extremely positive and add to the artist's or designer's mystique and prestige - certainly the case with Picasso and Pollack. For other artists who are less famous, however, an identifiable mode of expression can lead to confinement, predictability and, in some cases, a needless limitation of vision and creative possibilities. Since I began my career in the early 1980s, I've focused on capturing aquatic life forms in mixed-media sculptures to such an extent that my name is associated with the genre - although I'm certainly no Picasso. Indeed, in the years I've been active, there have been so many sculptures, statues and paintings depicting whales, dolphins and fish that the genre I love has become something of a cliché. So many consumers love such images that a vast number of enterprising artists have stepped in to meet the demand. The problem is that so many of these efforts are uninspired and
One of the perks of my job as Editor of WaterShapes is that from time to time I get to go on the road to see truly great work in person, often in stunning locations. Occasionally, however, when I walk on site my best expectations are blasted to
A well-conceived garden that has endured through many decades can teach us all a multitude of lessons. In the case of the Virginia Robinson Gardens, however, even getting to the point where those lessons might be recognized and appreciated has taken years of research, study and painstaking restoration. In the nine years I've been associated with the gardens, I've done all I can to determine the original design intent of those who owned and established it, stripping away generations of alterations, additions and miscalculations while interpreting the site and uncovering clues that point to the sense of mission and the creative spirit that influenced its creation and further development early in the 20th Century. I've done so with a recognition that the Virginia Robinson Gardens are important as an emblem of southern California history and an era gone by. I've also come to perceive the complexity, artistry and beauty of the space, seeing it as a blueprint that, examined closely, can serve to inspire and inform the work we all do today. The current gardens occupy most of the grounds of the former estate of Harry and Virginia Robinson, heirs to a department store fortune. My charge has been to restore and manage these six-and-a-half acres in the heart of Beverly Hills, Calif. - a graceful setting in the midst of
In most projects, great work requires the watershaper's personal understanding of who the clients really are, deep down. That doesn't mean we have to become our clients' best friends or marry into their families. Rather, creating watershapes at the highest level involves a different kind of relationship, one in which a shared vocabulary and common vision develop through discussions of water, stone, art, plants and the orchestration and staging of experiences that will occur in given spaces. Take the project covered here as an example: The scope of the work, an unlimited budget and a mandate for the highest possible levels of quality were enough on their own to force us to explore the limits of our skills and creativity. More important from our perspective, however, is that we
Sometimes the simplest ideas shine the most brilliantly. Take water, for example: For all the complexity of "shaping" it with hydraulics, chemistry, structural engineering and dealing with the hard-line issues of technology and craft, it's the hypnotic, aesthetic and even spiritual qualities of the material that ultimately
In a real sense, I want to build antiques: My goal in designing and shaping water walls has always been to develop systems of beauty that will be around and appreciated decades or even centuries from now. Not only are they built to the highest standards of quality - as are many antiques - but they're also meant to hold running water year after year. I don't know who created the first water wall, but my best guess is that they've been produced in one form or another since the late 1960s or early '70s. I became aware of them in the early '80s, at which point a number of craftspeople were making them from stone, copper, and bronze. Some of these products aspired to be works of sculptural art, but for the most part I thought that the medium's artistic potential hadn't been fully explored or expressed. My idea at the time was to expand the concept with respect to shapes, sizes, materials and styles. I also wanted to check into the possibilities of combining
