I am sure every city in every state in this nation has those larger than life, extraordinarily talented people who produced design that endures. My city has many examples of residences conceived and built by Harold Turner. This master builder, responsible for the construction of many buildings of Frank Lloyd Wright, went on to build a number of residences in my city whose beauty still shines so many decades later. I am not an architectural historian, nor am I well versed in the life of Harold Turner, but I knew my client had purchased a home of architectural and historical significance. My part of this-study that building, the grades, the views, the spaces-and make a move in concert.
The living room of the house faces the rear of the property. Floor to ceiling windows ask for the outside to work seamlessly with the inside, and provide year round interesting views. A wide open L shape, each wing of which is some 30 feet by 14 feet, describes on the ground plane a pair intersecting glass walls. Terraces at either ends of the wings suggests a landscape which permits leisurely travel from one end to the other.
The strict geometry of this rear profile of this Turner house filled my head with curves. How so? The glass prow is so strong, why would I interpret or dilute that gesture? Repeating the geometry he established for the house-what need would there be? It seemed to me that a simple but sculptural landscape that made much of the view the design of the house made possible was in order.
This landscape plane was entirely grass when I first came to visit. A default design. This space had no need of a mower-it had need of a landscape of interest that would look good in any given season. The journey from the library side of this house, to the master bedroom side of this house-it seemed to me that a path would figure large in the landscape design. The stone retaining wall casually stacked and irregular in shape seemed out of keeping with the palette of materials established by the house. An initial hedge of Green Velvet boxwood screens that stone from view, and encloses the space.
Decomposed granite is a favorite material of mine. I mulch plants, I build driveways, I compose entire landscapes around that material that brings the parks in Paris to mind. A walkway all about generous curves seemed a good companion for this house. My client does like to entertain; the wide walk makes for places for guests to visit, and good circulation. The granite is a quietly versatile material that echoes the surface of the existing concrete aggregate. Used in conjunction with steel or aluminum edging, it can cleanly outline interesting shapes.
There is always the danger that a small space will become a corridor to somewhere else-a visual racetrack, if you will. Planting another series of boxwood, set perpendicular to the house and boxwood hedge, will slow down the traffic. Unlike the boxwood in the hedge, these plants are placed in the bed, and in the gravel individually. Individually placed plants read as individual sculptural elements.
Seven sets of three plants each are placed such that the gravel walk space opens and closes. Pachysandra fills the empty spaces in the beds; when grown in, their mass will reinforce the pattern of the walk.
There will be decisions to be made about the pruning. The hedge could be boxed-the individual boxwoods pruned as spheres. Or vice versa. The boxwoods set in gravel could alternately be pruned as squares and spheres. The distinction that is drawn between the inidivdual plants and the hedging plants will be an important part of how the landscape reads visually. We will see what direction my client is inclined to take. Beyond this decision, the maintenance will be minimal.
Were I to ask you which of three wallpaper patterns appealed to you the most, or which person you have most patterned your life after, you would have no problem understanding and answering the questions. A written definition of pattern is not this easy. A paisley is a shape that is readily recognizable; a series of paisley shapes, that repeat in a certain order, that the eye can recognize, forms a pattern. My steel grate plant table tops, dusted with snow, bring the pattern of the extruded metal into focus. 
Many patterns exist in nature; early winter may be the best time to study them. The oval shaped dried flower heads of these hydrangeas make a visual pattern that repeats. They remind me of the old boxwoods at Dunbarton oaks that are pruned to resemble clouds. Cloud pruning is a gardening term gardeners recognize; the particular shaping and direction taken by an individual gardener makes a pattern. A distinctive pattern. 
Milo has a ball decorated with raised dots in an all over pattern. An all over pattern reads the same regularly, no matter what direction your view should take. There is no left or right, no up or down. The pattern of this light snow is very subtle; every diaphanous flake randomly covers the gravel in the drive. Nonetheless, the individual flakes make a pattern-a pattern I did not really pay attention to, until I saw the imprint of the ball dots-so regular and clear. The relationship of what came from the sky, with the pattern evidenced by that manufactured ball of his-on my mind today. 
This wreath is comprised of small flower shapes constructed from wood shavings, twig stubs, and dried bay leaves. The pattern, to my eye, is all about the circle, repeating. A wreath is an ornament; the arrangement of organized shapes makes for a pattern. When I see pattern, I am at my most focused.
Early winter is the perfect time to think about pattern. The snow, the cold, and the low light, the absence of leaves and flowers that blur the patterns, presents me with a landscape graphically black and white. Now is the best time to see patterns. RobB just forwarded me a post from A Way to Garden (awaytogarden.com)-a doodle by Andre. His idea-to send a card to his garden. Thank you for all you have done for me, beloved garden. That post, and his card has been on my mind all day. My garden gives me so much; this quiet time gives me plenty of time to think about this. Though some years ago I was certain my gardening ended with the first killing frost-now I know different. These first early snows come with lively lessons, debate, original source material; I know to pay attention. Who knew there was so much to see, and think about in late December? I am looking, and listening. December-I welcome it. No kidding.
The walk to the front door is kept company by an overscaled concrete planter of our manufacture. The stick stack frames the house numbers on the wall. A walk that does not immediately appear to lead anywhere needs a strong signal-come this way, please. How the weather works on these twig stacks is a hand over which I have no control. They gracefully open and bend with the weather in a way I could not duplicate. Two parts a client, two parts nature, and one part from me-looking good.
There is ample room on the terrace for this pair of Francesca squares. Like all of the other pots, these squares are sparingly lit. It is less than two weeks to the shortest day of our year.
Four Francesca flutes make for a striking holiday garden at the front door. This Italian terra cotta is tough enough to withstand our vile winters; the ability to have terra cotta outside at this time of year is cause for celebration in and of itself. Some contemporary expression is hard on the eyes, and lacking human softening; this can border on cold. This is no time of year to add cold to the cold we already have. I so like how she chose materials so soft in color, and so subtle in contrast-it was up to me to put them together in a contemporary way. The interplay of contemporary and traditional elements is lively. 
