Always to the frontier

Thursday, May 3, 2012

On the Concept of Lawns

Ever since the first Spanish colonists tried to make something of a permanent home for themselves down in Mexico and Cuba, North America has found itself inundated with European plants, animals, and concepts. In some cases, these exchanges did tend to go well, and Europe got some bits of North America back in return.  In terms of botanical exchange, however, even species which could adapt well to their new homes and not prove to be invasive pests on either side of the pond tended to run into a major problem: weather.  Europe, you see, is far milder and moister than much of our continent here.  When the "first" Mexicanos encountered the tropics, the first Virginians encountered hot and humid summers, and the first Canadiens encountered the Platonic form of winter, they almost did not make it through the experience in one piece.  For a while, life was rugged and a matter of survival.

Eventually, the newcomers learned how to thrive in their new homes, and as much as they enjoyed the concept of the New World, they longed for the finer elements of the Old.  One of these elements was the concept of the lawn.  Now, what is a lawn exactly?  My cynical definition is that it is an artificial attempt to bring some semblance of nature into otherwise developed spaces.  I say this because most of the places where lawns are considered to be normal features of the domestic and urban landscape tend to be anything but grassland in native cover.  Much of western Europe was originally forested, much of eastern North America was also covered in lovely forests and woodlands, and worst of all, the deserts of western North America were definitely not covered in a velvet carpet of green.  Now, meadowlands did and do exist in all of these places, but they were blanketed in flowers, shrubs, and as many as a dozen species of grasses!  They are pleasant, lovely things, and the few homeowners that do maintain open meadow space on their properties are usually head-turning paradises of tranquility.

So how did our modern, single grass carpets replace the diverse gardens of the past?  Two major reasons, very much seemingly at odds with one another.  One is related to community, democracy, and civic pride.  The other is derived from elitism, status, and the pride taken in large estates.

In the middle ages, land ownership was in the hands of far fewer people than it is today.  Needs of the common folk still existed, however, and grazing animals needed places to feed upon open pasture.  As such, until the 19th century, vast areas of common land existed on both sides of the Atlantic.  Because they often served their purpose as sheep food, they tend to be nicely mowed by the woolen creatures and as such took on the appearance of lawns.  As lifestyles and economies moved away from agrarian existence, this land progressively got smaller, but small bits of it can be found here and there, usually transformed into urban parkland, such as is the case of the Boston Common.  The lawn-like expanses of grass were maintained in this transformation, owing to the concept of city parks being not only meant for recreation, but also for public gathering.  Let's face it, its easier to fly a kite and watch a concert on a park stage when one is not in the middle of a thicket.  As such, we have village greens.  Not a North American invention, to be sure, but one that flourished in the democratic environment here.  The National Mall in Washington is perhaps the finest example of a communal green to be used for purposes of recreation and gathering.

Of course, the Mall has seen all sorts of different gatherings, from Presidential Inaugurations to political rallies of both left and right to concerts and films shown on the Fourth of July.  The above example, however, combines all elements of social gathering that such spaces make use of, and is a bit funny to watch.  I have no idea what the last minute is about, but hey, the sixties were weird like that.

These days, the Mall is managed by the National Park Service, and while they have every desire to retain the open spaces for their community purpose, the Mall is not exactly a wide expanse of grass that most lawns tend to be.  The end result is a more natural space.  Manicured, to be sure, but still far more verdant, shaded, and a bit more pleasant.
Looking through the trees to the Vietnam War Memorial
This is not to say that traditional, golf-course trim lawns are absent from the monumental space.  After all, the Mall is as much a museum of accessible American political achievement as it is a gathering space.



As can clearly be seen, what might otherwise be an impressive garden space is instead dominated by grass.  This example, of course, leads us to the other part of lawn history, the more artistic and less communal side of things.

Back in Europe, when the colonial era was getting underway, especially in the British Isles and France, lawns were status symbols.  Ornamental gardens, you see, are land that is essentially cultivated to look pretty rather than to be productive.  They are pleasant places to stroll on a sunny afternoon, but being on private estates, they tend to be a bit more exclusive than your average village green.  Taking a lawn into the equation, replacing even the just for show gardens, well, that took things to a whole new level.  For one, it meant you had land to spare, and for another, it meant you had money, slaves, and probably a lot of both.  

Now, remember how I opened this post with the weather issue?  In the mild climates of Europe, lawns are a bit easier to maintain.  In places like Virginia, with a humid subtropical climate, lawns grow like they are on steroids.  Back before the days of lawn mowers, grass was cut by scythe and compressed by rollers, a very labor intensive venture.  As you can imagine, it would tend to be expensive.. if not for the prevalence of slave labor.  Even in Virginia, however, weeks can go by without a single drop of rain.  Lawns in North America also had to contend with the new possibility of drought, something far less of a concern in much of Europe.

This is not to say lawns were a frivolous waste of land meant only to show off sheer wealth and capability.  As noted in the case of the White House and other civic viewing spaces, lawn expanses do tend to provide a focus for the viewing of monuments and architecture.  Many of the founding fathers had grand lawn spaces in front of the main porticoes of their estates, drawing inspiration from the grand estates back across the Atlantic.  Unlike many estates in Europe, however, the North American versions tended to either lag behind in the development of styles and fads, or incorporated many different elements into building projects that often spanned a lifetime.  Monticello, the estate of Thomas Jefferson, is a powerful example of such diversity of styles combined into an estate that was constantly being enlarged and fashioned over a period from 1772 well into his presidential term which ended nearly forty years later.  As such, grand monumental spaces are only one "practical" purpose for these estate lawns.  

Over in Britain, where a new taste for a return to naturalistic and native landscaping was coming into vogue, a landscape architect known as "Capability Brown" was transforming monumental vistas into meadows, groves, stream courses, and gardens that followed the contours of the land rather than artificial designs based on geometric patterns and terraced patios.  The concept of a philosophical love affair with idealized nature was by no means solely a British affair, however, and North American estate owners, already entranced by the thinking of men such as Brown and respectful of the underlying philosophical sources of this "return to nature" embodied in the thinking of Rousseau and the early transcendentalists, started to design parts of their estate with natural viewpoints in mind.  Again, a fine example of this is at Monticello, which sits atop the eastern hills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and takes full advantage of this situation.  

Another fine example is the home of George Washington, Mount Vernon.


As you can see, the top picture, taken in the front of the house, is a lawn designed to show off the place (restoration scaffolds notwithstanding).  The back, however, is an expanse of grass meant to provide lovely views of the Potomac river from the rear porch.  Patriotic Georgian-era estate owners in Britain certainly loved their landscapes of Britannia, if the paintings of John Constable are any indication.  Patriotic North Americans, however, were even more so enamored by their native lands.  Entire schools of landscape art blossomed in the United States and Canada.  Even before the Romantic era of art and philosophy really got underway, men such as Jefferson started putting less work into lawns, and more work into functional gardens and yard spaces dominated by trees.  
Part of the extensive gardens at Monticello
Even the more classically inspired front lawn of Mt. Vernon is surrounded by lovely, towering Tulip Trees (Liriodendron Tulipifera).  Well, changing appetites of lawns aside, the old concept of the status symbol was deeply ingrained into the public psyche.  As time went on, lawn mowers were invented and improved, and the economy became more democratized, especially after World War II, lawns became more commonplace.  The development of wide open suburban communities included the lawn as a centerpiece, and in true American fashion, yards as we know them evolved from status symbols held by the few into something you pretty much find in most homes in Canada and the United States.  Mexico is still big on the non-lawn garden concept, probably because you can have amazing gardens in the wide variety of climates down there, and because residential development patterns are still largely urban, rather than suburban.  They do, however, have wonderful parks in most of their city centres, which definitely include lawn space.

Despite the homage to historical status symbols, now and then one can come across North American lawns that have lovely little surprises in the grass.  


This lawn, in Northville, Michigan, is peppered with little flowers, clovers, and even ferns.  Apparently, before most home-owners became obsessed with maintaining putting greens on their property, lawns looked like this.  In some instances, residents have even tried to mimic long lost landscapes in their lawns by planting prairie flowers and native grasses, which they even let grow out.  These are the kind of people that see a field of dandelions as a a field of lovely gold rather than a pile of weeds, and why not?  Lawns, after all, are but an element of a home garden, and a beautifully rewarding way to bring back some harmony between development and nature.  

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