Is There a Limit to What Should be Manipulated?

By Francisco G. Zambrano

     Last post was about how people like to use monumental architecture in order to manipulate people and their feelings. In this post, I would like to reflect on how we have come to want to control nature in order to manipulate the feelings and actions of others. This behavior can be witnessed in any kind of landscape ranging from a small backyard private garden to public urban parks.



Fig.1: Seed bombing the Raytheon Plant,
Santa Barbara, CA, 1992

 

     The first example that comes to mind, is the seed bomb project by Katherine Miller (Fig. 1). Even though her projects were not enclosed gardens or parks within a defined space, she was able to manipulate the way people felt when "interacting" with her gardens. By allowing people to simply purchase a little mud ball with seeds and throw it where ever their liking, it allowed the people to feel empowered about being able to make a change in their community and surroundings. Then, as time went by and the seeds bloomed, the people then could see their effect on the land and feel accomplished. It is interesting how even though the people can't always walk through the flowers that they "planted," simply the sight of them growing in the most unexpected places puts a smile on even the people who simply walk by. This example was one that is somewhat less manipulative than others. I would even say that it doesn't even manipulate people's feelings necessarily, but rather their actions and how they interact.
    

Fig.2: Serpentine Gallery Pavilion 2011,
designed by Peter Zumthor.
Photo by Walter Herfst

     The previous project has no definitive space yet does manipulate at a small level. Now when we look at the 2011 Serpentine Pavilion in London by Peter Zumthor and Piet Oudolf, this is a manipulation that is strong in the physical aspect and emotional as well. You walk along a path in an open grassy area and then you come across this simple black rectangle that has no face nor an understanding of an entrance, simply three paths that lead to three random openings on the buildings' side. Then you enter a dark narrow corridor (Fig. 2), which gives you a feeling of confusion and pressure, but then see openings where light comes through on the opposite side from where you enter. You exit this dark corridor and enter the center space which is open with a garden of wild plants in the middle and nothing else. This calm and quiet site gives you relief from the busy surroundings of the pavilion. As stated by Arch Daily on June 27, 2011,  "(this is a)design that ‘aims to help its audience take the time to relax, to observe and then, perhaps, start to talk again – maybe not’, the materials are significant in aiding the design which emphasizes the role the senses and emotions play in our experience." The architects have manipulated the experience of the area with containing a simple wild flower garden within the dark structure. The manipulation, or experience, was achieved in a very simple way but was able to achieve its purpose in a very deep successful manner.

Fig. 3: My personal sketch of the Cubist Garden
by Gabriel Guevrekian.

    

     In these past examples, the manipulation of the passersbys was more of their emotions and actions that is achieved through an experience. In Gabriel Guevrekians' Cubist Garden in southern France, he has taken full control of the architecture and nature in order to manipulate the visitors emotions and experience. He has taken control of the type of vegetation, the growth style, the placement, basically every aspect, in order to achieve what he wants the visitors to experience. The manipulation of nature in this example, is very different in comparison to the last two, where nature was allowed to manipulate or rather effect the visitors naturally.
    

     These were just a very few examples of "gardens" that have been manipulated in order to manipulate the feelings and way of interaction of the visitors. It amazes me that we have been able to achieve something so complex as human emotions with the use of something so complex as nature. But I do believe there is a limit, where nature should be left as it wants to be, rather than manipulated to fit human desires.

Tailoring Spaces to the Human Proportion

By: Tyler Norton

            Le Corbusier’s Modulor Man is a well-known principal within the architecture community. The aspect of his theory that I want to focus on is not related so much to combining scales as it is to the proportions of a human body. In the two examples reflected upon in this post, the human dimension is clearly taken into great consideration when planning each space. Even though Gustafson’s Memorial Fountain for Lady Diana is a very large space, and Zumthor’s Serpentine Gallery Pavilion is a very small one, each make guests feel welcome and comfortable. Every space, regardless of size, should be tailored to the proportions of the individuals it is created for.

            Without even seeing Lady Diana’s Memorial Fountain, you know that it is going to be a large space because it is located in Hyde Park in London. The fountain itself is located in a sizable open field within the park and is surrounded by grass and foliage. According to the royal parks’ website, the fountain was designed to symbolize her life, quality, openness, and most importantly, her love for children and warm attitude toward people in general. This last symbolism is most important because with this in mind, the fountain was designed not just in her honor, but also with the people she left behind in mind. Essentially it was designed to engage people and for them to feel comfortable in. Gustafson did a wonderful job of taking a large and open space, which otherwise may have been considered overwhelming, and molding it to fit a space where people can interact easily. Examples of this are readily apparent anyone trained in design. The sides, which frequently serve as benches, are proportioned perfectly to the human physique. The interior part of the circle divides the large field up into smaller nodes so that the inside space of the ring feels much more intimate. The shapes of the contours inside the fountain are intriguing and inviting to the human eye and are proportioned in a way to comfortably fit an average sized adult as well as a small child. Nothing in this section of the park feels overwhelming or too open.

         In direct contrast to the last example, Zumthor’s Serpentine Gallery Pavilion is a very small and confined space. However, Zumthor still manages to design according to human proportions just as gracefully as Gustafson. In fact, because of the small and intimate setting, it may have been even easier for Zumthor. The site, located in the Serpentine Gardens in London, is a small black structure that from the outside appears completely closed in, but has a partially open ceiling. As with the Memorial Fountain, the ways in which Zumthor proportioned his structure to human dimensions can be studied effortlessly.    In each entrance, the doors are comfortably spaced and the heights and widths are also of comfortable proportions. Even the height of the building, which is taller than the interior roof, is not overwhelming, nor does it make anyone feel diminished. As previously mentioned, the interior roof of the building is fairly low but not so low that it makes anyone feel cramped or clustered. Inside the structure, there is plenty of seating space and each space is designed with the human body in mind as well. All in all, the space creates a perfect balance between intimate and confining.

           

http://www.royalparks.org.uk/parks/hyde_park/diana_memorial.cfm

Gardens of the Age

By Seth Oliver

                “What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered.”- Ralph Waldo Emerson. Gardens have transformed over the centuries into more pieces of art for public use rather than private. These landscaped features can be compilations of many materials to form miniature, condensed and sculptural pieces in themselves. Gardens can have architectural elements surrounding them but also have the plants be the architecture. The dichotomy of this ideology has come about in different ways. A few in particular that follow the notion of structure around the focal pieces are the Tanner Spring Park and Park Westergasfabriek. A few that counter this and have the focal pieces be the gardens are represented in the Serpentine Pavilion and the Lincoln Center Roof Garden.

                Architecture to contain the wild is a path to showcase the natural environment in a way that is controlled with the illusion of frivolity. Tanner Spring Park makes a miniature of an ecological process of the cleansing water. From the rough hills to the edge of the pond, the plants and landscape dominate the scene. The paths are placed on top of the show off the piece of the natural elements. It is almost as if floating above it is to admire the process at work below the bridges. The Culture Park of Westergasfabriek also fosters the idea of paths added to nature, but isolates most of the nature to preserve them from Human interaction. A visual stimulus rather than a physical one. This park also displays the cleansing of the water, but from a distance. The other difference would be the large pool at the very end of the park that engages the public. Tanner Spring Park engages people from the trails and the earth but the Culture Park of Westergasfabriek engages people from the water. Many other gardens have followed these ideas of displaying nature, but these two are of the ends of the spectrum and very unique.

                On the contrary, more modern gardens have popped up as pieces of architecture as well as natural wonders. The Serpentine Pavilion in London by Peter Zumthor and Piet Oudolf was literally a box. The dark corridors of the ambulatory surrounding the garden were completely articulated. Not only the structure, but also the pants were specifically cultivated for the height and color. Giving the illusion of wild and natural but in reality it is all planned and carefully calculated. The plants became a part of the architecture. They were integral in filling a void of the inner rectangle and shaped the experience within. The Lincoln Center Roof Garden uses plants as a building material as well. The sections of the field, pond and forest all became three separate “buildings.” The roof of the first is a vast slope of grass. The pond is a reflective rectangle flush with the ground. And the forest is a composition of the grid lined trees to shape a box building outline. All three are individual pieces of the same sculpture, but all add a different aspect of the personality of the space. This idea incorporates the city into the garden rather than the garden into the city. Blending the spaces into a modern take on the “garden” and to push the limit of what materials can be used to create architecture and landscape.

                The designing of garden spaces still centers on the public experience. This has not changed for centuries. The new gardens try to blend the materials of the featured pieces and the structures that frame them. The realization of materiality and how to use it is key to successfully composing a landscape for the modern world. Whether the flora is the main attraction, or just a thread in the fabric, gardens are pushing the boundaries of the norm further than ever before.