When I read Ashley's post last week (Plant of the Week # 57) his comment about using hedges to create privacy and a sense of enclosure really resonated with me. Why is it that walking through a ferny glade, feeling enclosed by tree ferns, for example, is so satisfying? Or under a spreading oak tree as Michael has described so invitingly? The whole notion of garden rooms and courtyards seems to be based on enclosing the space - creating boundaries. Is it about creating a refuge? Does our brain tell us three walls behind us and only one entrance to guard is safer? Or is it some cultural thing we have got from some of our ancestors? Would some people regard it as claustrophobic to be surrounded by plants? I don't know but I am curious! (By the way - inspirational photos Ashley!)
This is a question after my own heart, Irene. I’m firmly convinced that garden design is all about space-making – about capturing and defining irresistible spaces. Indeed, that the single most powerful element in the garden isn’t primarily visual, but is a sense of enclosure that resonates with/validates/recognises/perfectly moulds around our roughly 1.5-1.8m frame. Where our attraction to such spaces comes from we’ll probably never fully ascertain, but I’ve heard convincing arguments about that which you mention – a primal craving of hunter-gatherers for a balance of refuge and prospect – the need for somewhere to hide, but from which prey can be viewed. These kinds of discussions make up a large part of our design workshop, which we haven’t run now for over a year, due to covid disruption, but you should join us some time, when we’re fully up and running again!
I’m with you on the primal sense of both lookout and enclosure, but personally I think I’ve always approached it as scale and proportion. One of my earliest responses I recall to a “beautiful space” related to the contrast between a huge top-of-hill view and tiny arbours from which to view it.
I agree – that it’s all about scale and proportion. We’re always happiest when we’re in a space that gives us room to move but isn’t without boundaries or constraint. The perfect proportion, I’m guessing, is something to do with the way the structures or plants around us relate to our eye-height, or our self-perception as space-fillers. More later
I hadn’t considered scale and proportion Jack in that way but I can see that the small space can act as a counterpoint to the larger space. I guess it also helps to anchor you to the ground and stops you feeling overwhelmed by the vastness of some scenes – don’t know about you but the view from a mountaintop leaves me feeling very small and insignificant whilst still appreciating the wonder and beauty of the whole scene. And I feel lucky to feel a part of it – which goes to Michael’s observation about plants being eye height – low plants give you the feeling of largeness – of towering over them- but taller plants pull you into the scene so you feel more a part of it. Mind you am happy to acknowledge other people may not feel the same way!
My reptilian neo frontal cortex tells me I feel most comfortable in defendable space. Clear entrance points and exits, barriers and viewing platforms, cover and hidey holes. We are in essence, stupid monkeys.