A novel juggling act at the Cleveland Museum of Art in Cleveland, OH, where its museum expansion by architect Raphael Vinoly boasts more parks, gardens and parking. Photo: courtesy of TCLF

Forum

Holistic Landscapes?

By Charles A. Birnbaum, FASLA, FAAR

Museum consultant Randi Korn, whose work is dedicated to using visitor studies to guide museums in improving their practices and achieving their missions, recently noted that many museums today “work within a cycle of intentionality that has created an inclusive, process-oriented infrastructure so it can write a purposeful mission and measurable intentions, and can demonstrate the value of the museum in people’s lives and in its community through repeated assessment, while offering continuous learning opportunities for all staff.” Is the same goal for “holistic intentionality,” to use Korn’s term, achievable in our nation’s historic parks?

If so, was I daydreaming in a museum café sipping a dopo macchiato when someone decided that the way we measure success in our public parks and open spaces is based on head count? When did we stop placing a value on strolling under the dappled light of mature canopy trees casting long winter shadows over a sloping lawn; the calming, rhythmic sound of a gurgling water feature; the humanizing scale and tactile texture of naturalistic understory plantings (see the related story about TCLF’s Heroes of Horticulture on page 150, which aims to make these often forgotten jewels visible); the antiquity of authentic, historic fabric as reflected in moss-decorated walls and stone washed paths; or, unique site-specific, regional responses to a place, as reflected in a designer’s original handcrafted furnishings? Sound familiar? Perhaps, the delicious eye candy found in a crowd-pleasing blockbuster museum show of impressionist paintings dedicated to the works of Monet, Van Gogh or Seurat?

Well, step outside of the new museum big boxes by such architects as Renzo Piano, Zaha Hadid, Santiago Calatrava and Rafael Vinoly for a moment and move out into their contiguous public landscapes and cityscapes. Today, if you want to spend Sunday in the Park with George, more times than not, as pioneered in our museum environments, our nation’s public open spaces are becoming increasingly more programmed and filled-up with destination-dedicated new uses. Aside from the café with movable chairs, these outdoor activities reflect such “check the box” wish list requests as dog parks, sculpture gardens and splash pools. For those interested in balancing management decisions in our historic parks, it is precisely these new uses that are bringing about change, which is usually not sympathetic to a landscape’s historic significance and surviving character-defining fabric.

Where have I heard these challenges before? Where have I seen this play out? Can quantity (people) and quality (design) go hand in hand? If you build it will they come – is that enough? I found myself considering this question during a recent visit to MoMA (Musuem of Modern Art, NYC) where a small number of visitors were actually looking at the art. I have been to MoMA many times since they reopened and every time I go it is packed. Does this mean that MoMA is successful as a museum experience? If so, how do we measure success for a museum or a park? Is it density, numbers, richness of experience, adjacent real-estate values, good coffee, people watching, playgrounds for dogs and kids, the feeling of being renewed and refreshed? Opportunities for reflection? All of these, some of these, or does it depend on the location, audience and program?

Within this dilemma, where are those who care about change and continuity – a holistic systems approach to park analysis – to turn? What is the role for those history, historic preservation, and design professionals who are often marginalized and deemed TB