You may well wonder why we have two reviews of Rory Stuart’s new book for thinkingardens.
Well, I was given one when I had already commissioned the other. It’s not the first time thinkingardens has offered more than one perspective, and it won’t be the last. And, as you will see, Rory himself has written about Sheppard’s garden here , rather complicating things… I needed a review you could all see was objective, as this is an important book which I trust you are going to buy.
I need to add a disclaimer myself, because Veddw is given critical attention in this book. I leant on no-one and I am taking Rory’s critique very seriously.
Here’s the first review, by Sheppard Craige, accompanied by some illustrations of his own garden.
Anne Wareham, editor
What are Gardens for? Visiting, Experiencing and Thinking about Gardens
An English gardening eccentric (was it one of the Sitwells?), when asked what a garden was for, replied that it was a place to stand.
So here, with his new book “What are Gardens For?”, we have Rory Stuart, a figure standing in a garden. He’s not chattering, and he’s not taking photos. He’s not even pruning or watering. What he is doing is paying attention to where he is.
Hence Stuart’s work is a new kind of “how to” gardening book: How to pay attention in a garden. Let me say at once that this has nothing to do with stern advice. Stuart’s attentiveness relies much more on pleasure than effort. Pleasure in recognising, pleasure in remembering, pleasure in understanding, perhaps even pleasure in approaching a mystery. It hardly matters in which garden we find ourselves. We can be in an old garden, a new garden, a famous garden, or our own garden.
Stuart keeps theory to a minimum and goes right to the matter by offering essays which compare and contrast several gardens. For example, he describes the Florentine gardens La Gamberaia and La Pietra. There’s no fault-finding here, but he does come to a judgement of why one is obviously superior to the other. This, he seems to be saying, is what a creative garden criticism could be like.
Three contemporary British gardens are also examined: the bold Old Vicarage in Norfolk; the large, unfinished Alnwick Garden in Northumberland; and the thoughtful Veddw House in Monmouthshire. Stuart says that he takes each garden seriously, tries to respond to what he feels is its character, then makes a guess as to the motivations of each designer. Finally, he asks if these motivations have been achieved or not. Overall, he makes an effort to “rein in his personal prejudices”.
Why are we just now getting around to this kind of critical writing about gardens? ( Stuart notes that for years we have had restaurant critics, so why not garden critics?) I’m not sure he comes to an answer about this, because it may be outside the scope of his book . It would be interesting to know his ideas.
“What are Gardens For?” is a book about discernment. But what about those readers who, like myself, close the book still not sure about their powers of discernment? To us, Rory Stuart says: relax, because “no good garden was ever made from anxiety”. We should continue to see as many gardens as possible, old and new, famous and obscure. And we should be very careful about following current fashions in garden taste.
As for flowers, he tells English and American garden novices to relax about these as well, reminding us that Islamic and Oriental gardens have for centuries done largely without them.
At the end of his book Stuart recalls a fine quote from Russell Page: a garden should have “a quality peculiar to itself”. Now this remark may appear very obvious. But I think it really does represent the highest ideal of garden making. It’s that still point at which Rory Stuart’s garden writing seems to be aiming.
See also Sheppard’s piece on The 9/11 Memorial Park and Bridget Rosewell’s review of What are Gardens For?