To really achieve resplendence in the landscape, avoiding clutter through the accumulation of too many objects is a worthy goal. Based on the appearance of many gardens (including those featured in garden mags) there are often collectors of non-plant items who have "objets" strewn through the garden without a lot of thought as to how they'll mesh with each other or the plantings.

Less is often more when it comes to these things.

What did Bergman say about hardscaping that is not static - i.e. water features, wind chimes* and the like? Should they be associated with static plants (i.e. slow-growing, stiff and wind-resistant choices)?

*maybe the less said about these, the better.size>

Perhaps I need to clarify that I am not considering inclusion of the clutter to which you are referring, Eric (but you knew that already). You are absolutely correct, however that this all-to-common practice needs to be reined in which really brings us full-circle to the thrust of Bergmans comments: THINK ABOUT IT!

Far too much of this stuff is strewn about landscapes with nary a thought. Oftentimes, what we see promiscuously displayed is but an impulse purchase. Garden Butts are only one example from the "whimsy" category. Forgotten is the inverse proportional humor that any joke or gag bears to the number of times it is repeated. Tell me a joke once and it is funny. Beyond that and it becomes distracting and eventually annoying. Oh yeah they sell that one at the local big box store (All of the neighbors have one too.) falls into the same abyss. Why is it that all of these craft items (perhaps more properly called crap items) must be so forcefully displayed, unavoidably in your face?

Craig Bergman did not directly speak to the issues water features and wind chimes, etc. I wish he had. This is another area where popularity conceals the curse. As the divine Ms. Derviss was found of saying, "Cute is not a technical term." Falling squarely into this line of thought, I believe it was Laag recently recalling admonishment from his old professor that: "We are here to design, not decorate." Too many items enter landscapes as merely decorations. They relate to nothing else in the landscape.

Placing artwork, such as a sculpture, is a challenge that I always struggle with and the main reason I started this thread.

IronBelly

Speaking of uncontrolled whimsy, you'll be glad to know that concrete lawn geese (and their cute little outfits) are becoming history.

According to a recent newspaper article, sales of lawn geese have plummeted and they are no longer being sold at many major outlets. Soon, scenes like this could fade into memory:

{{gwi:52677}}

Though I suspect that devotees will continue to fill their need for geese and designer goose-wear on Ebay.

Well, that's just... I have no words.

I've never seen concrete lawn geese dressed in little articles of clothing; and I thought every kitschy piece of crap ever made was sold locally (if not MADE locally). Eric, did you take that photo, or is this a cultural phenomenon that I've just not yet come across?

The thing that I find so amazing about your photo, Eric, is that if one were to take the same amount of money spent on that crap, you could purchase a pretty nice piece of quality sculpture from a local artist.

IronBelly

"There is something subconsciously comforting about things that are familiar."

I don't have much experience with hardscape elements, but I would say that this could be applied to many evergreen shrubs. Like every gardener, I love to discover what flowers are blooming this week, watch plants grow through the season or observer foliage changes through the year, but there is something appealing about shrubs that just sit there looking green all year round.

I could see where the more static bones of a garden would give us a reference that we could use to judge change. If everything changed all the time it would drive the mind crazy. I know that when I look at a series of garden picture in a magazine or online, I look for items like a pot, statue or path that I can use as a reference. I suspect that our mind does the same type of thing all the time.

- Brent

"When hardscape objects really begin to work in a garden setting is when the two elements of change and non-change are juxtaposed in the same area. In other words, nestle those taller plants that move in the breeze right up against that birdbath . . "

Hey, IB -- I had to come back to this a couple of times. I think this is a great concept for me. To me, this might be accomplished by regarding that static object as plant which is placed in a relationship to other plants -- a big rectangular basalt plant, or a low mounded granite plant.

Whether or not this is what you meant to convey, I'm sure it will help me overcome my fear of "things."

Thanks,

Maro

Brent,

I don't think we have ever broached the subject of the subconscious mind in landscape design. For a number of years now, I have made a concerted effort to take advantage of this most human of qualities. We have not only subconscious feelings of comfort but also of discomfort, and a whole range of emotions in between.

I like to think that much of my success in designing my landscape can be directly attributed to concerted efforts to address the subconscious. As I alluded to in an above comment, an all too common mistake made in landscapes is to foist objects directly into the faces of garden guests. ("Why is it that all of these craft items (perhaps more properly called crap items) must be so forcefully displayed, unavoidably in your face?") To a certain degree, this can also apply to even a quality piece of artwork. I believe that garden objects are generally much better received when a guest (appealing to the subconscious here) is allowed to discover an object of merit. The stage (vignette) should be set so as to exclude other distractions and allow a person to ponder it unfettered.

The conscious effort to construct an appeal to the subconscious is a powerful tool indeed.

**********************

Maro,

What I mean to convey is that if one ponders differing perspectives, fresh thoughts and/or the familiar expressed in unfamiliar ways, we can often glean private little "Eureka! moments". I'm glad you were able to experience this one.

IronBelly

"What is the best way to incorporate pieces of hardscape into a landscape?" Words don't always mean what you think they mean do they? I would imagine 'hardscape' to be walls and paths and the like rather than sculptures and bird baths or (dog forbid) an all dressed concrete goose, yet this is what we seem to be talking about here. Not hardscape as the bones but as an addition, more like a tattoo. Theoretically this problem can be covered by applying those same principles of balance: emphasis: variation: proportion:repetition, that apply to all design. What is particular here? We have a statue/bird bath that we like and bought and need to decide where is the best place in the garden to put it, is this the real question?

IB: "The question was, "What is the best way to incorporate pieces of hardscape ...(statue, urn, birdbath etc.) into a landscape?""

Yes IB, rather than pondering I welcomed the light bulb shining on a method of incorporating "pieces of hardscape," and without that parenthetical explanation someone might visualize an old broken piece of leftover paver.

I tend follow along ink's way of thinking. I have a hard time considering a birdbath, piece of sculpture or some other form of garden decor as "hardscaping". Rather, I think of them more as accessories ('tatoo' is a bit of a stretch!) - accent pieces but not essential to the composition of the design. Much like a scarf or piece of jewelry would be to a woman's outfit or a picture or 'objet' to an interior design. That they should compliment the intent of the design and that care should be given to their selection and placement is a given.

Threading my way between geese, kitch and sculptures back to several of IB's comments without (hopefully) stubbing a toe....

"Placing artwork, such as a sculpture, is a challenge I always struggle with..."

"Hardscape objects really begin to work in a garden setting when the two elements of change and non-change are juxtaposed in the same area."

IB, you are almost there in solving the mystery. Think triangles. Think birdbath as one point of a triangle. Think tall waving 'somethings' adjacent to the birdbath. Now, what is the third point going to be that is an element of change? Perhaps a medium growing grass clump, etc. Think about the birdbath not as a focal point but at a point on a triangle that directs the eye to whatever the designer wants. Take the time to study pictures of landscapes (and interior design) by the 'well-knowns'. Look for triangular patterns within the designs. It is an interesting exercise and very useful when designing.

Thank you eric, now that we have established that concrete geese are officially 'pieces of hardscape' much like maro's broken pieces of paver we can move on. As much as I agree with you about the triangle thing Nandina I think the point was not so much about the form of the juxtaposed things but more about their qualities of change, each being a modifier of the other. Brent talks about an unconscious need for order and it is suggested that this is more likely to come from something that stays the same than something ever changing. What this says to me is that a statue or urn can help to pull a chaotic garden together, by adding repose but should be part of the overall unity of the design.

A good discussion with a broad variety of discourse.

It is becoming evermore apparent to me, throughout this thread, that this issue is problematic on several levels. Pam states: "That they should compliment the intent of the design and that care should be given to their selection and placement is a given." Once again, I am going to fundamentally agree with her thoughts but disagree with the observation. Selection and/or placement is, in practice, anything but a given. My observations seem to confirm that more thought is typically given to the selection and placement of Tonys tattoos than that afforded to placement of objects in a garden.

Tony is correct that these objects "can help to pull a chaotic garden together" Why is it that they (again, in actual practice) so often seem to generate additional chaos? Instead of S&P (selection and placement) we see P&P (purchase and plop). How many times over the years on this very forum have we read accounts of people sensing something was missing? The solution to their dilemma was found in the latest issue of Better Homes & Gardens an article that briefly mentioned focal points. Their prayers were instantly answered at the local craft show with a birdhouse on a stick. Yep they bought that there focal point and plopped it into the garden. The only consideration being: Where is maximum visibility?

It dawns on me that if one were to expand upon Nandinas triangle concept, it might become a good rule of thumb. Whatever you do in a landscape should compliment the design in at least three ways. Over simplified? Perhaps. However, if the average home owner applied this standard, it would go a long way towards avoiding many of the common pitfalls. How many times has a response to input been, "I never thought about that."? Ahh Grasshopper.

Tony and Pam point out the dichotomy of definitions we often struggle with on this forum. All professionals, no matter the field of endeavor, experience this communication hurdle when dealing with the public. I know that I certainly do in mine. Conversations often become translations. Although the word choices might not be technically correct, through diligence, we can eventually share understanding. In the original lecture scenario, I am but the messenger. Those were the words used. To be sure; there is confusion at many levels on this general topic. That is precisely why I posted.

Pieces of art, properly displayed in the garden, offer tremendous potential that is so rarely capitalized. Why is that? I dismiss the implied notion by Tony that this is merely another run of the mill design issue to be summarily checked off the list. At least for me, when I find a great piece of garden art, it beckons me on an uncommon level. To use a trite phrase: It moves something deep down inside of me. I feel compelled to display this object in ways worthy of the intrinsic value. This is something special and merits special treatment.

I like to think in terms of the theater. I am the director and it is my responsibility to stage this scene. As with any performance (landscape), some scenes are of higher value than others. Special effects, lighting, props and supporting roles are brought to bear upon an audience to draw focus to the pivotal highlights. It would be a disappointed audience, indeed, if the entire performance was spoken in monotone under a single flood lamp.

IronBelly

There are a lot of balls in the air here Dan and I sense a 'thought from the belly' coming on. Cat throws a curve ball reminiscent of the suggestion that in a Japanese garden the stone will tell you where it belongs in the garden. In a bird garden I wouldn't be looking for a 'table' per se, and here we have it from the birds point of view, what is required is a flattish surface that offers protected eating, then the birds and not the 'table' are the raison d'etre. If, however the bird table has some 'intrinsic' value we must consider what that brings to our garden. As I said, in theory we can look at emphasis being the bird table: variation the not bird table: proportion how they relate to one another:repetition how that 'vignette' as you call it relates to the rest of the garden. If this is solid, when one of eric's geese waddles into this birdscene the humour or whimsy is easy to spot. The interesting thing about your House and Garden article Dan is that the cure is always to add something according to them when simplifying or editing is often a better answer.

The original statement: "Craig noted that plants in a garden are never static. They continue to change throughout the growing season. Hardscape is static and does not change at all. There is something subconsciously comforting about things that are familiar. When hardscape objects really begin to work in a garden setting is when the two elements of change and non-change are juxtaposed in the same area. In other words, nestle those taller plants that move in the breeze right up against that birdbath"

If you saw a garden for the first time, would the effect of the hard object and plants be just as effective as when you see the garden on a regular basis? I think so - in fact the effect might even be stronger and more pleasing the first time. Is the above statement then really true? The fact that plants change over the summer would not be important since you would not have this frame of reference. Are plants any less familiar than hardscape when both are seen for the first time?

An alternative explanation is that the hardscape is very different from the sea of plants, and it is uses a minority of space, hence the eye finds it restful to spend time on the hardscape - and then wonder back to the plants once. the eye likes change. If this is true, a bright blue vase would work more effectively than a brown one of the same design and size.

The hardscape does not add order to the plants - it just interrupts the view. Instead to removing chaos, it interupts it.

Just putting thoughts on paper - no idea if they mean anything.

Someone needs to fill a garden with bird baths and place just one large plant in the middle, and report on the effect. Is the view improved?

"The hardscape does not add order to the plants - it just interrupts the view. Instead to removing chaos, it interupts it." I don't think this opinion can be substantiated even if I understood what it meant. The same goes for the rest of what you say madtripper, I thought someone else might have something to say but...when we see a tree or a clump of grass in someones new garden we recognise it because of our memory. We also know that the leaves will fall the tree will get bigger and so on we don't have to witness this with every plant every year to know that. Your hypothesis about the eye liking change does not hold water either, there is no doubt that you would be attracted to a bright blue vase over a dull brown one but if your view had in it the blue one, a fluorescent orange one, another blue one, one with pink and yellow stripes, another blue one with a crack in it and honey flowing out of the crack you would find it quite tiring I think and your eyes would be not liking it at all.

Im just a mere pragmatic gardener, but over the years Ive learned one thing: I have to take into account how a structure/piece and the surrounding area will look in all seasons. That humble birdbath may look beautiful and be practical with grasses surrounding it in the summer; however, Ill have to take it in during the winter and Ill have to prune those grasses in the spring. In addition, that trellis graced with cardinal climber in the summer will need to look beautiful "naked" also.

Cathy in SWPA

Good thoughts to throw into the mix, Cathy. (I'm sure that Tony will appreciate this topic broadening even more!)

Multi-season interest is often overlooked in the decision process. I also believe it is generally misunderstood, as well. Of course, you throw an additional modifier into the mix by putting some of your objects into storage over the winter. My pieces of art grace my landscape all year long. I will bring in ceramic pots which would be prone to damage. Other than that, I like things that will endure all conditions because they offer the potential of four season interest. {{gwi:52678}}

This is a photo I have shared before. I think it illustrates the point of winter interest. Perhaps the cold and snow even serve to heighten the impact this sculpture brings to the landscape. Peeking through winter-tawned maiden grass (Miscanthus sinensis Morning Light) at my little maiden, garbed in a snow bonnet with her hands tucked into a snow muff, is quite a different visual experience from all other seasons.

I mentioned above that multi-season interest is generally misunderstood. I fear that many interpret this as designing an area to look great all year long. This is not really the case. I like to say that visual interest floats about my landscape as various displays, located in different areas, reach their peak. Trying to have all areas "hitting on all eight cylinders", all of the time is folly at least for the private garden without a large staff. I actually prefer having main areas of interest flit about my landscape because it keeps things fluid and maintains the delight of discovery.

In the case of the photos I shared on the "Rain Garden" thread, that bed is constantly changing all the while building into a late autumn crescendo.

IronBelly

If more evidence is needed that hardscape is not always static, consider this item. Very useful for expressing one's feelings about vulgar intrusions into design, or indeed frustration in general.

By the way, I cannot claim credit for the geese. Though we did put antlers on the Labrador for Xmas once.

I am curious as to whether a dedication to good design must, by necessity, heap scorn on people who do not aspire to the same objectives.

I really like those concrete geese; have never seen such a thing before. To the extent that yesterday I drove past a gaggle of Canada geese assembled on a grassy knoll and restrained myself only with difficulty from jumping out of the car and dressing them all. (Just kidding. I had had no clothes with me, of course) But seriously, what I like about those geese is the sheer personality of the statement, one with which I sympathize, being a rebel in many things. The display says, as much as it can: I thumb my nose at your objective standards of good design! From that act of defiance a new creative energy often emerges, and I love it. Just because it isn't mine doesn't mean I can't respect it. It certainly doesn't prevent me from seeking good design.

Stated much earlier in this discussion:
"Forgotten is the inverse proportional humor that any joke or gag bears to the number of times it is repeated. Tell me a joke once and it is funny. Beyond that and it becomes distracting and eventually annoying. Oh yeah they sell that one at the local big box store (All of the neighbors have one too.) falls into the same abyss."

Perhaps this fad has not reached Karin's neighborhood yet. We will see how she feels about them as they begin appearing in every other yard.

Once again, it is not necessarily what you do -- it is how you do it.

IronBelly

My neighbour has about a gazillion Canada geese camp out in his pasture each fall and again in the spring when they fly back. You've missed the fall passage but if you want to start knitting some outfits now I am sure they would appreciate it in April, don't forget the diaper though or stick with the concrete geese.

Eric,
I will be glad to send you an unopened sewing pattern for concrete geese clothes. It was a gag gift to me several years ago.

"It is not necessarily what you do -- it is how you do it."

At our former home I challenged myself to create a 'kitch' garden along a narrow passageway beside the house totally unrelated to the rest of the yard. I have mentioned this before. House on one side, tall cedar trees on the other side of the pathway. Three problems within the site were the electric meter, the heat pump enclosed in a large latticed area and an upright propane tank. I decided that using humor was the best way to deal with the ungainly mess. So...I did it all. Shining baubles and bird houses hanging from the cedars, a large topiary teddy bear(s) tea party with the table set in fine china courtesy of the Salvation Army, a blue bottle tree worked on the lower branches of the cedars, a collection of small concrete rats, other topiaries, a stepped plant shelf dripping with potted plants and humerous statuary, etc. All was done based on good design principles. It was a fun project which quickly sold the house with the purchase offer stating that nothing was to be removed from the yard. I countered and was able to salvage my cold frames and two favorite statues. So, I begin again in another home which needs a touch of humor in a world of meatball shrubs. Can't wait to see what I do!

I'm anticipating the threads coming up from the new literate gardeners who typically pick up from an article or discussion such things as these and will start with "I know I need to blend my static items with my non-static items, but I need help ...".

This is one more phenomena, or tool, which we can choose to emphasize or choose not too. A great and broad subject, but we seem to be focused on minute bits and pieces objects and not looking at what else there is. What about a place like Central park that was originally planted with trees small enough to be moved and planted that would have been relatively small and delicate compared with the bulky stone bridges and other visually dominant structures that are now dwarfed by some of those trees and are being absorbed by vines and shrubbery?

How about the subdivision that was brand new that you grew up in with dinky trees and dinky shrubs with the wide road and sidewalk that is now a canopied tree tunnel shading that once stark open road?

Then there are those residential landscapes that we did 20 years ago that have the same walk and stone retaining walls and patio, but the growth has changed the whole flavor of the place.

What about a place that you did three years ago?

{{gwi:52679}}

{{gwi:52680}}

This project could have easily been described (and often was) as a wall with plants. Now it is more likely described as a garden that has a stone wall in it.

This is the interpretation I made from the thread title. I don't know if I'm narrow in that, but concrete geese are too alien a notion of hardscape for me to envision on my own. They just do not seem to be items meant to be permanent and I think of "hardscape" as something that has the intent of being permanent (although nothing is permanent).

It reminds me of some of the old photos from my area. This land was completely cleared by early settlers. Many of the churches were put on higher hills and often show up in old photos, even as unintended distant objects in the background. Now there are a zillion houses, but there are trees everywhere. One particular church in Yarmouthport can be seen from many places (Sandy Neck in Sandwich, Chapin Beach in Dennis, Exit 8 ramp in South Yarmouth, ...). It is now seen as a steeple sticking out of a tree canopy rather than an entire church in a barren grassy landscape. It is almost a measuring stick of time against a big landscape.

I don't know that this fits into the discussion, but those are my thoughts. ... that and one of those plywood plumber grannies with the polka dotted bloomers, of course.

This thread must be briefly hijacked to bring you the following sad, sad news.

Andrew, you provide the big picture while we have been looking at this concept in a much smaller way, thank you for that perspective.

Again, just a simple gardener. Ironbelly, your maiden would peak my interest in all seasons because it is intriguing "stand alone" and engaging enough to require a bare minimum of plants. It is particularly nice blanketed.

I think Laags brings up another element -- time. The picture illustrates an excellent example of the interaction of static vs. non-static and time and season. While the photo depicts progression, would this garden continue to look as attractive in winter or would it revert to a wall?

Cathy in SWPA

Cathy, Great point. Static vs. nonstatic not just over the years, but over the weeks of the year as well.

There are the plants that die back to the ground at the end of the year and start over in the spring. Some start from the ground and rapidly replace the form that they had the year before. Then there is the succession of blooms and the setting of seed. All of this happens with the constants of the static elements within the composition.

A house, a driveway, a road, a mountain, or a lake are other static elements outside of "hardscapes" that are part of that same dynamic - kind of like the church on the hill.

These things add a standard to measure by. They help measure time and scale and by doing so create a new dynamic that we can choose to appreciate or ignore or use to create something more interesting within our designs.

Like most things in design, I think we all know these things and our subconcious minds build them into our work. Putting these things before us at some point in our personal development to gain awareness and understanding of why we do things is very critical as it is with other design theory. Sometimes a particular place has some kind of magic about it that can not be copied from writing down a list of the physical things that are there without a deeper understanding of the interaction between those things. Sometimes we miss the subtle and other times we miss the 800 pound gorilla. The more you explore and bring to the surface, the more routine the understanding becomes whether it is the interplay of textures, or color, or form, or terrain, groupings, movements, sound, bloom succession, ... or the juxtaposition of static vs. nonstatic elements.

We could probably discuss the merits of what is a static element and what is a nonstatic element for months. We started with, of all things, garden "art" pieces as static elements, but there are so many other things with differing degrees of "staticness" (staticnasity) to them that can dwarf (or is it gnome) them in comparison both in permanence and prominence. There are lots of things to think about.

I have to confess that I have waiting for this thread to make a few turns before I threw out this example of contradiction. Are there times when placing a sculpture that one would not want to heed Craig Bergmans advice to snuggle plants up close? I believe so. As we have come to learn, all rules can be broken. It is the selection and manner in which rules are ignored where the fruit can often be found. Nandinas kitsch garden is but one example.

While listening to Mr. Bergmans comments, my mind also went to a pair of sculptures located in Purchase, New York at the PespsiCo world headquarters sculpture garden. Although not exactly what many would (or could) have in their home landscape, I believe that to snuggle plants up close to this display would be a mistake. It is isolation and starkness that are demanded. {{gwi:52681}}

I love the gaunt, richly-haunting qualities of these elongated figures. Plant material in close proximity would detract from the amplifying, vertical lines of both the building and the mature trees. The long narrow lines of all those disparate components serve to compliment each other... another "rule" broken well.

IronBelly