ARCADE - Working Landscapes
Landscape is the place for the complex interplay between nature and culture, supporting all human activity.
Landscapes are our story because they reveal who we are. They embody our values and history, and provide the framework for our
future.
The interpretation of landscapes is as varied and complex as the landscapes themselves.
In this issue, Working Landscapes, each contributor tells part of a story of transformation.
Working Landscapes is about the landscapes we create, which in turn create us as we inhabit
them.
Working landscapes are shaped from the finite wilderness. In this country, and particularly in the West,
we are relative newcomers to a spectacular wilderness. Unfortunately, design tends to spring from a culture of analysis
and economic efficiencies rather than the dramatic reality of site. In Herman van Bergeijk's article, the wilderness is the sea;
the dewatered land providing a palette for the raw grid of the Dutch economy. Whereas landscapes never return to wilderness
they can be reclaimed to it by a degree. In Michele Marquardi's "Fourth Nature", castles in the desert become a new prospect.
Richard Haag and Peter Latz extend this notion in the renewal and re-inhabitation of urban wastelands.
Landscapes by
definition are designed. They represent the continuity of time and human inhabitation, whether for a specific function
such as a mining or manufacturing process, or with the well being of the greater environment in mind. Roberto Pirzio-Biroli's
article broadens the idea of the Master Plan by providing a larger perspective on historical territories and proposed landscapes.
He distinguishes between the idea of architectural topography and abstract zoning policies. Sites are typically considered
without the rich context of their natural and cultural reality. Lesley Bain's article explores the complex layering of Seattle's
Interbay site and how design could transform its place in the city.
Living in the Northwest we have the unique opportunity to
experience the diversity of climate in a very small area, perhaps like no other culture. In the desert, landscapes take forever to heal.
On the wet side of the mountains, however, if we just ceased to exist, within six months water would have brought new vegetation
and begun the rot of our buildings, covering our tracks. Their structure would still be evident, even if faint.
Every gesture we make must be mindful for it will be with us for generations to come, reflecting our values and far (or short) sightedness.
The removal of a hill or the infilling of a wetland, the razing of a forest or the planting of a field, the construction of a
road or of a city in the endless extension of our society, will be there to be remembered and reflected upon.
In the process of design we have the opportunity to be thoughtful or thoughtless, to include the greater good of the area
or be concerned about the "highest and best use" of a particular piece of land. Good design does not come from the myopic
view of self interest, but from the recognition that what we are designing is part of something greater than ourselves,
influenced by what came before us, and part of a structural system in the future to be interpreted and built upon.
