DOI article:
Hunt, John Dixon: On the formation and conduct of garden history
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.14576#0013
ON THE FORMATION AND C'ONDUCT OF GARDFN HISTORY
7
[C] in particular circumstances [D], then its practice or performance will be conditioned by how A conceives
his or her task. Leaving the all-important topie of В aside for the moment, we have to identify what the par-
ticular audience is and the circumstances under which it will be addressed, which themselves are likely to be
shaped by the very abilities and inclinations (including préjudices) of the author. A few examples may serve.
Those who are involved with the restoration, préservation or conservation of historical gardens are
driven by the need to provide adéquate documentation of the various stages in the life of a site from its con-
ception to (probably) its dissolution and decay, so that informed décisions can be made as to what éléments
(or even what historical "moment") could be recovered in the future or just stabilized in the face of hostile
development. This often produces excellent history, raw materials well researched and argued; but it is a his-
tory dedicated to a very spécifie purpose, not unlike a lawyer representing a client in some court of law. At
the other extrême, the authors and publishers of what are condescendingly referred to as "coffee-table books"
(by myself included, as above) must above ail foreground handsome imagery - modem colour photography in
préférence to historical documents - and draw out verbally from their visual présentation either a célébration
of the élite and privileged life style now unveiled for their viewers or perhaps even some lessons for the "do-
it-yourself ' home gardener envious of the handsome estâtes that are increasingly open to tourist Visitation5.
Athird example cornes from my own récent career: for over 14 years I have been teaching within a pro-
fessional graduate school of design and in a department of landscape architecture that takes with exemplary
seriousness the éducation of future designers. Though students are necessarily focused on the production of
critical design and technical know-how, they are still required to undertake three semester-long courses on
the history and theory of their field, the first of which présents them with opportunities to consider and ana-
lyze a sélection of historical sites (as a basis for their ever-eager and unrestrained instincts for theorizing!).
It tries not to be a traditional survey course, but rather identifies a dozen or so key sites from across the his-
torical spectrum and offers to understand their place in a given culture and by implication their continuing
interest today, given that the audience consists solely of future designers. Over the years that I have been
offering such a course, it has been of considérable importance for me as a historian to understand how to
honour the historical circumstances of my selected case studies, to play down the urge to provide simply
a historical narrative, and to provide students with materials and ideas that down the road they might find
useful. This professional situation has considerably impacted how I conceive of the study of garden history,
but when I have opportunities to talk to other audiences my approach is not constrained even if it is now
conditioned by professional design needs.
But now let me return to the initial combination of A (the historian) with В (his/her topics). The disci-
plinary resources that contribute to make up the ideał garden historian are many, probably too many for any
one individual to master, and so it is inévitable that historians will select and construct their topic and there-
fore its historical scope in the light of their own spécial interests. Art historians are generally more apt to
discuss matters of patronage, iconography, style; literary critics looked to meaning and the associations and
inter-textuality that a visual iconography by itself does not illuminate; social historians, to the extent that
they have become involved, explained the social production and subséquent use of gardens; botanical histo-
rians looked to plant répertoires and agendas and the international availability of species. On the other hand,
the very fact of gardens being the object of study has steered analysis and research into many diverse chan-
nels which could profit piecemeal from the contributions of those coming into the field from other disciplines.
Gardens, indeed, turned out to be a subject matter of some complexity - examples of a materiał culture con-
structed from a whole congeries of physical and philosophical, économie and political, aesthetic and scien-
tific, verbal and visual perspectives. Such inhérent complexities of the subject meant that, first, no historian
could readily transfer ail the necessary skills from any one other history, and, second, there were no single,
or even obvious, place to look for materials relevant to the new enquiry. Sometimes it was a matter of find-
ing new resources for basic information in the least expected places: my favourite example here is Robin
Osborne's essay on ancient Greek gardens6.In a strategy, typified by the French Annales school of historians,
5 I have briefly examined a séries of such publications on Venetian gardens in the first chapter of my book, The Venetian City
Garden. Place, Typology, and Perception, Basel, Berlin & Boston: Birkhauser, 2009.
6 Classical Greek Gardens: between farm and paradise, [in:] Garden History. Issues, Approaches, Methods, ed. J.D. H u nt,
Dumbarton Oaks, Washington D.C. 1992, pp. 373-391. The work of Keith Thomas in a book like Man and the Saturai World
(1983) also uses this method of the accumulation of many smali items to establish a much bigger picture, greater far than the sum
oi its parts; it is a method particularly useful for the complex constituencies of garden history.
7
[C] in particular circumstances [D], then its practice or performance will be conditioned by how A conceives
his or her task. Leaving the all-important topie of В aside for the moment, we have to identify what the par-
ticular audience is and the circumstances under which it will be addressed, which themselves are likely to be
shaped by the very abilities and inclinations (including préjudices) of the author. A few examples may serve.
Those who are involved with the restoration, préservation or conservation of historical gardens are
driven by the need to provide adéquate documentation of the various stages in the life of a site from its con-
ception to (probably) its dissolution and decay, so that informed décisions can be made as to what éléments
(or even what historical "moment") could be recovered in the future or just stabilized in the face of hostile
development. This often produces excellent history, raw materials well researched and argued; but it is a his-
tory dedicated to a very spécifie purpose, not unlike a lawyer representing a client in some court of law. At
the other extrême, the authors and publishers of what are condescendingly referred to as "coffee-table books"
(by myself included, as above) must above ail foreground handsome imagery - modem colour photography in
préférence to historical documents - and draw out verbally from their visual présentation either a célébration
of the élite and privileged life style now unveiled for their viewers or perhaps even some lessons for the "do-
it-yourself ' home gardener envious of the handsome estâtes that are increasingly open to tourist Visitation5.
Athird example cornes from my own récent career: for over 14 years I have been teaching within a pro-
fessional graduate school of design and in a department of landscape architecture that takes with exemplary
seriousness the éducation of future designers. Though students are necessarily focused on the production of
critical design and technical know-how, they are still required to undertake three semester-long courses on
the history and theory of their field, the first of which présents them with opportunities to consider and ana-
lyze a sélection of historical sites (as a basis for their ever-eager and unrestrained instincts for theorizing!).
It tries not to be a traditional survey course, but rather identifies a dozen or so key sites from across the his-
torical spectrum and offers to understand their place in a given culture and by implication their continuing
interest today, given that the audience consists solely of future designers. Over the years that I have been
offering such a course, it has been of considérable importance for me as a historian to understand how to
honour the historical circumstances of my selected case studies, to play down the urge to provide simply
a historical narrative, and to provide students with materials and ideas that down the road they might find
useful. This professional situation has considerably impacted how I conceive of the study of garden history,
but when I have opportunities to talk to other audiences my approach is not constrained even if it is now
conditioned by professional design needs.
But now let me return to the initial combination of A (the historian) with В (his/her topics). The disci-
plinary resources that contribute to make up the ideał garden historian are many, probably too many for any
one individual to master, and so it is inévitable that historians will select and construct their topic and there-
fore its historical scope in the light of their own spécial interests. Art historians are generally more apt to
discuss matters of patronage, iconography, style; literary critics looked to meaning and the associations and
inter-textuality that a visual iconography by itself does not illuminate; social historians, to the extent that
they have become involved, explained the social production and subséquent use of gardens; botanical histo-
rians looked to plant répertoires and agendas and the international availability of species. On the other hand,
the very fact of gardens being the object of study has steered analysis and research into many diverse chan-
nels which could profit piecemeal from the contributions of those coming into the field from other disciplines.
Gardens, indeed, turned out to be a subject matter of some complexity - examples of a materiał culture con-
structed from a whole congeries of physical and philosophical, économie and political, aesthetic and scien-
tific, verbal and visual perspectives. Such inhérent complexities of the subject meant that, first, no historian
could readily transfer ail the necessary skills from any one other history, and, second, there were no single,
or even obvious, place to look for materials relevant to the new enquiry. Sometimes it was a matter of find-
ing new resources for basic information in the least expected places: my favourite example here is Robin
Osborne's essay on ancient Greek gardens6.In a strategy, typified by the French Annales school of historians,
5 I have briefly examined a séries of such publications on Venetian gardens in the first chapter of my book, The Venetian City
Garden. Place, Typology, and Perception, Basel, Berlin & Boston: Birkhauser, 2009.
6 Classical Greek Gardens: between farm and paradise, [in:] Garden History. Issues, Approaches, Methods, ed. J.D. H u nt,
Dumbarton Oaks, Washington D.C. 1992, pp. 373-391. The work of Keith Thomas in a book like Man and the Saturai World
(1983) also uses this method of the accumulation of many smali items to establish a much bigger picture, greater far than the sum
oi its parts; it is a method particularly useful for the complex constituencies of garden history.