Informe

Much landscape architectural form seems like hackneyed modernism, whether it be orthogonal or biomorphic, 'formal or informal' and doesn't seem to get to grips with the truly complex nature of the landscape, making any project seem potentially simplistic. This is largely because it has inherited languages from architecture that are based around objects, and that therefore can act to make designs self-referential rather than edgy instances in a dialogue much larger than the site itself, connected to systems that are unavoidable, even if one chooses to ignore them. These systems constitute a formal language even if landscape architecture looks to things like GIS to engage with them. Tropospheric Temperament was an Advanced Computing subject, for second-year landscape architecture students at UWA, taught by Julian Raxworthy and Rene Van Meeuwen, which ran in Semester 1, 2004. For this subject, the question was: how can we learn to wield such systems in design terms, even if they are developed through un-self-conscious natural and vernacular forces?

Wet potential

Water is so fundamental to everything that it is almost impossible to meaningfully conceptualise it, which is why it forms the basis of pretty much everything. To suggest that landscape architecture has some sort of privilege with it would be deluded. But, as alchemists of “the world”, we are both expected to deal with it professionally, as well as being forced to do so practically in making anything real, built in that same “world”. When people use words too much, that is the signifiers of things in sound, they become a kind of conceptual short hand to what they are referring to. You can hear this short hand when they use the word, as it gets grammatically dealt with differently – it becomes a conceptual object – a different type of noun. Water is one of these words, and as a supervisor I have almost universally seen students refer to it like this, by the end of their projects, and then have to force themselves to reconsider what it was about water that made them interested in water in the first place. This process is a transition of ideas and technology and technique, and will be the subject of this essay, tracking students responses to the weird substance in design subjects I have taught or projects I have supervised at RMIT since 1997, to and from and then again back to the qualities and issues of water for people generally, and landscape architecture in particular.

A lava park in Spain

The lava park is surrounded by the volcanic mountains of Les Preses, revealed as the edges of a vast caldera and repeated at a human scale with low walls made up of small volcanic boulders. These walls are evidence of how successive communities have gradually worked amongst this lava flow to create arable land, supported by rich soils. The people saw the land prosper and learned how to maximise its productivity. Boulders that had come to the surface during agricultural cultivation were moved with human labour to create "artigas“, the characteristic pilings of volcanic stone. They have been used to raise and lower areas, to create shelter and exposure for their crops and to make caves for storage. Amongst all this, paths weave and cross. The whole place is made up of grey and black rocks with a constant cover of green crops or grass.

Merovingian ring-fort

One could argue that there are many approaches to site specifically as there are specific sites. Each site has a variety of influences such as visibility and natural and cultural histories. Human impositions that endure do so because of some canniness, some appreciation of how the current will live with the past.

Catalogue essay : a thin white line

Objects have consequences, seemingly. They move, atomic, formlessly – when static they are seen. That they vibrate constantly, that they are NOW present, is something we will have to trust the physicists on. They only seem here. Now is their moment of form, but later, who knows? Things SEEM when we recognise our own transience and temporary-ness. We call upon a bevy of senses that forever frustrate us with their limitation, despite our little understanding of what we actually have – is this here? So some forms seem to be telling us to trust our senses – that this world IS as it seems. Their form constantly refines and is refined and refined until in its essentialness it cannot be doubted – it absolutely IS. Is this our eyes? Can we only see it? But light is also a particle, if I remember correctly, so there is some weight to seeing. So to SEEM is also to FEEL,as this light imposes its visual weight upon our skins – we see with every pore of our body.

Birrarung Marr

Melbourne's new riverside park, Birrarung Marr is located on the north bank of the Yarra, meeting Federation Square at its western end. In design terms it is an important one for both Melbourne and its city centre. It is the first new park in the inner-ring of the city to be built in a hundred years, since Alexandria Gardens, and is also the first major park done by COM since the influential period of designed capital works under the leadership of Rob Adams, at City Projects.

The big blue

For the 1.5 million travellers who annually visit the Blue Mountains to experience the Australian Bush, it just got closer. The Echo Point redevelopment by Tract Consultants is a megastructure in the void.

Eco-cosmpolitanism

Two new landscape projects for Victoria's City of Moreland explore an intriguing fusion of indigenous and multicultural community qualities imbued with the romantic sensibilities of the collaborative design team.

Beyond the sound barrier

Freeway barriers used to be just great slabs of concrete that lined the road to tr and protect nearby residents from the constant rumble of the traffic. But in recent years, their visual appeal has become as important as their practical purpose with architects and designers clamouring to show off their ideas to the vast traveling public. Melbourne's Craigieburn Bypass is the latest to be recognised for its dual appeal winning the Urban Design Award at the recent Victorian Architecture Awards.

Gardens le grande

The gardens of Versailles are a prime example of the beauty that can be attained where art and horticulture meld on a truly grand scale. Carrying on that tradition in the former veggie garden of the French palace is one of the world's most prestigious landscape architecture schools. Julian Raxworthy, a senior lecturer in landscape architecture at Queensland University of Technology recently taught a workshop at the Versailles school. As he explains, the concepts that underlie the school's teaching and the formal grandeur of the gardens of Versailles continue to be as innovative and relevant today as they were in the 17th century.

Accidental amenity

Landscape in Australian multi-unit residential developments has passed through a number of phases. Can we make the successes more intentional than serendipitous? When did the block of flats become renamed "multi-unit residential"? Perhaps it coincided with a realization by Australians that medium - and high-density urban housing was neither an attack on the quarter-acre block nor a synonym for public housing. Higher densities allow people to participate in the city, and the expansion of unit-based housing represents Australians' growing love of cities for their urban and cosmopolitan values. As our attitude to the city has changed, so have the types of multi-unit residential stock changed - in their spatial qualities as well as their role in the landscape.

Engagement

I came here to Münster as the second part of what could have been a four-part grand tour of art. I went to Kassel for Documenta, but couldn't afford to go to Venice for the Biennale or to Basel for its art fair. I hadn't planned to go to Münster for the Sculpture Project '07, but a friend said I may as well go if I was in the Netherlands anyway. I came over the border into Germany through Arnhem, driving at somewhere from 130 to 180 kilometers an hour.

Bike park in Groningen, The Netherlands

Groningen is a city that collects contemporary projects. A trip around town reveals something like a zoo, with examples of all design languages of the last twenty years, many of them now aging and distinctly past their prime. Even though some of these projects are outdated, this collection not only demonstrates a commitment to design (even occasionally lacking judgement) but also serves an archival function: we can consult the Groningen Zoo of Design to determine the design to determine the design preoccupations of the past and how those often theoretical interests (since most of the work by these designers was not built) manifested themselves in material form on the ground.

Contour house

Set atop a magnificent site on the Bellarine Peninsula, Contour House anchors itself into the landscape with a 5.5 meter-high folding concrete wall. This gesture is both protective and revealing, simultaneously creating an internal courtyard, while extending the spectacular 270- degree views into the living areas. This residence extends our interest in 'the journey' and ideas of place-making, particularly the manner in which it might challenge preconceived ways of living.

Village green

For a communal garden in Copenhagen, Stig L. Andersson uses grasses of varying texture and height, creating a new view or spatial experience from every angle. The idea of vegetation texture being an important constituent of planting design is pervasive. Gardening books tell aspiring designers that "colour, texture and form" are the central aspects of planting arrangements. While these elements contribute to this language, they have tended to limit the language of planting to a singular, two dimensional paradigm, where planting is designed in static elevation. This has developed from a perennial-border approach demonstrated by the early 20th century garden designer Gertrude Jekyll, where the viewer is parallel to the bed, and the planting is layered to address this view. If one were to characterise the difference between a garden design and a landscape architectural approach, the latter would seem self-conscious in its use of space, movement and vision.