THE RELATIONS OF THE ARCHITECT AND THE 

 LANDSCAPE ARCHITECT 



By C. HOWARD WALKER 

 (Meetlne of January 14, 1908) 



I SHALL speak this evening of the mutual relations and courtesies existing between 

 architects and landscape architects, of the differences of their points of view, and 

 what may reasonably be expected of each. 



First, in regard to a certain lack of comprehensive scheme in the work, and neglect 

 on the part of each to coordinate, which I am inclined to think is more on the part of the 

 architect than of the landscape architect. In many cases the landscape architect is required 

 to adjust his work to buildings already poorly placed, and he is sadly handicapped because 

 of that fact; in other cases the architect finds the environment ill conceived for the purposes 

 of his building. In both cases, the fault is not so much in a general plan, but in the neglect 

 of the third dimension. 



Both architects and landscape architects plan logically and well, so far as superficial 

 areas are concerned, but both fail, at times, to appreciate the resultant perspectives caused 

 by the erection of solids, whether they be buildings or trees, and especially the sequence 

 of vistas caused by changes of the points of view. Masses appeal less than do plan and 

 elevation. This fact is often evident in the projects of the Beaux Arts men. 



The "parti pris" for the Buffalo Exposition was admirable, both in the general plan 

 and in the relation of the buildings to each other, but the effect of contours of surface 

 was obviously neglected, so that in walking from one portion of the grounds to another 

 the bases of buildings were often unseen until near at hand, and bridges and ramps and 

 terraces confused the general conception of the plan instead of enhancing it. Undulations 

 of surface and minor factors of plan became of relatively too great importance for the 

 formal monumental character of the work. 



There are two distinct sorts of design occurring in the planning of a city or of a town: 



First, the intimate, picturesque arrangement with somewhat romantic detail. 



Second, the broad, formal, so-called classical treatment. 



Each is occasioned by the conditions of the problem. 



It is characteristic of picturesque work that it is produced more satisfactorily by 

 successive growths than by an initial scheme, and that it occurs among the requirements 

 of a few people rather than of many people. It is inherent in simple household existence, 

 in the lives of small communities, and in a focused and isolated condition; and, as require- 

 ments increase, as numbers multiply, and greater factors are requisite, formal order is 

 found more generally to fulfil the requirements, and, little by little, the classical schemes 

 replace the picturesqueness of accidental groupings. Because of this fact, deliberately 

 planned picturesqueness is apt to appear artificial, and requires very great care in design. 



The conditions requiring a classical scheme are those which produced classical 

 architecture. 



In Greece there were large congregations of people before temples were built, and 

 the demand for the accommodation of crowds created the formal and classical arrange- 

 ment of buildings and grounds; therefore, at present, when we wish to provide for adequate 



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