Richard L. Austin, MS, ASLA, is Associate Professor of Agronomy and Horticulture at the University of Nebraska,
Lincoln. He is a licensed landscape architect in Kansas and Nebraska and a member of the American Society of Landscape
Architects.
Sample Chapter
Foreword
Plants in the Landscape
Plants have been with us from time immemorial. Just as
humankind developed step by faltering step from ancient
ancestors, so have the plants we know today struggled to
survive the rapidly changing environment on our earth.
Many of these plants were lost along the way while others,
such as the Ginkgo, have survived without much
modification. Most of them, however, have adapted to
change, and we see them today in a variety of forms.
When we think of the role of plants in our lives, each of
us thinks of plants in relation to our own experiences.
Probably the first thing that comes to mind for many of
us is the plant origin of the food we eat. Perhaps for
lunch we had fresh corn on the cob and a salad of lettuce
and tomatoes, topped off with a slice of juicy watermelon
for dessert. Even the animals we depend upon for protein
depend upon plants in the form of pasture grass,
hay, or grain for nourishment.
In landscape compositions, we are often unaware of the
visual impact plants have upon us. In the autumn woods
we note the bright colors of foliage and fruit displayed in
great profusion; we listen to the sigh of the wind in the
pines; we smell the smoke of a campfire. We see a distant
mountaintop, white with a snowy crown. It contrasts
with the blue of the autumn sky and the golden yellow of
the dancing aspen leaves framing the view. One can find
a sense of well being in the landscape--a peace of mind
not present amid the cacophonies of noise, offensive
odors, and sights of the crowded urban world.
Landscape architects can use a technical knowledge and
a "feel for plants" to create opportunities for this sense of
well being, and for this aesthetic experience. Landscape
architects look beneath the superficial and study the
characteristics of plants and what makes them appealing
to the senses. The color value of plants is self-evident to
many of us, yet some subtleties require a second look, a
deeper perception. The red twigs of a dogwood shrub
against the white of winter snow, the mottled bark of a
sycamore or a true Chinese elm, and hundreds of other
examples add up to many enjoyable experiences when
plants are used for more than decoration. We find color
variations throughout the year--the variety of colorful
flowers that bloom in different seasons, the fresh light
green of new leaves in the spring, the deep green hues of
summer foliage, the bright contrasts of fall colors, and
the delicate variations of browns on twigs and bark in
winter.
Texture is another characteristic that plants exhibit in
great variety. Some plants are coarse, such as the Catalpa,
with its large leaves, or the tropical banana plant. Others
have medium-sized leaves or leaves that are small and
narrow. Deciduous trees with small twigs produce fine-textured
effects when bare. In stark design contrast, the
large twigs of the Kentucky coffee bean or the tree of
heaven give a design composition a course impression.
Plants, as design elements, come in all sorts of shapes
and sizes. Form, as a design feature, is a very important
when choosing plants for a composition. Next to color,
people often recognize this characteristic more readily
than any other, so it may be used more frequently to
focus attention or to provide variety in a planting space.
Grasses and creeping ground covers give us low, spreading
forms to provide our spaces with a living surface.
Slightly higher are prostrate types such as Andorra creeping
juniper and many of the cotoneasters. They are in
turn exceeded by the round forms of Mugo pine and
boxwoods, the vase shape of certain junipers, the towering
pyramids of narrow-leaved evergreens and sweet
gums, the irregular asymmetry of Meyers juniper and
selected firethorns, and the broad crowns of many deciduous
shade trees. The list goes on and on, and a designer
may use numerous form varieties in a single composition.
The landscape architect is often called upon to draw
attention to a particular area. This can be done by focusing
the attention of the viewer, through contrast, upon a
specific plant or mass of plants different from those nearby.
For example, one 10-foot pyramidal green juniper
among 15 low-spreading green junipers would compel
the viewer's attention through shape and size alone.
Change it to a silver-gray Rocky Mountain juniper and
you reinforce the accent of form and size with color.
Change the low plantings to low shrubs of contrasting
texture and you have brought contrast and accent into
play for maximum visual experience.
In similar fashion plants are selected to serve as background
for objects the way a group of buildings can be
viewed against a mountain slope or a piece of garden
sculpture. If our goal is to focus upon a specific object in
a composition, background plants must be subordinate
to the object and not dominate it. If they become more
attractive to a viewer than the object, the composition
fails. If they blend into a monotonous sameness of color,
shape, and texture effect, the composition fails again.
There are many other related factors to be considered
by a landscape architect: defining usable space, reinforcing
nonplant design elements, complementing architectural
accents, framing aesthetic views, screening out
undesirable views, controlling pedestrian circulation, or
providing interesting sources for sounds, seasonal
changes, or shadow patterns for aesthetic effect.
The landscape architect should understand the fact that
plants have a positive psychological effect upon people.
Garrett Eckbo (1969) refers to plants as "our poetic lifeline
back to Mother Nature in an increasingly denatured
world." The garden was the site where ancient Chinese
philosophers contemplated the human role in the world.
To many, plants may be symbolic of happenings in other
times and places. To some the drooping branches of
weeping willows suggest drooping spirits. The fragrance
of spring flowers can lift our spirits, and the putrid smell
of Gingko fruits can offend. A farmer, coming in from
the summer wheat field, appreciates the shade of cottonwoods
near the house. These natural air conditioners
fend off the rays of the sun and, through transpiration,
add evaporative, cooling effects to a space.
The landscape architect uses plants in many ways to
modify the climate of a space. Windbreaks, shelterbelts,
and plantings for glare control and the control of soil
moisture, drifting snow, and sinking cold air in a valley
are all specific uses for which plants can be designed. We
know that trees and shrubs serve as filters to screen out
pollutant particles and also reduce irritating noises significantly
within the crowded urban space.
During the Dust Bowl days of the 1930s, we became
acutely aware of the need for plantings to combat soil
erosion. The Soil Conservation Service was organized to
research the problem in consultation with other agencies
and individuals. Improved tillage techniques for the soil
surface were developed, as were plant uses to combat
wind and rain erosion. Windbreak and shelterbelt plantings
of trees and shrubs, ground-cover plantings of
indigenous plant materials, dust- and sand-control
plantings, grassed water channels, stream-bank stabilization,
and watershed protection plantings were design
applications originating from this era.
Plants also serve as indicators of soil and erosion conditions.
Sedges and cattails say "It is wet"; cacti and succulents
say "It is dry." Ericaceous plants say "It is an acid
soil," and saltgrass and atriplex say "It is salty here."
Certain plants produce symptoms that indicate the
presence of air pollutants of various kinds. Grapes and
redbud leaves become deformed, curled, cupped, and
streaked with yellow when some chemical weed controls
appear in the air. Tomato plants quickly succumb to
gases such as methane, and dwarf Yaupon holly is quite
susceptible to carbon monoxide from auto exhaust.
Many plants produce chemicals of value to the human
race. The old herbalists knew of some of these many
years ago. Native Americans used parts of the indigo
bush, Amorpha fruiticosa, as a dye and the crushed fruit
as a means of stunning fish. We know now that the plant
contains a chemical similar to rotenone.
There are poisonous plants, too. From literature we
have heard of hemlock. Our ranchers know the effect of
locoweed on their cattle, and many of us have had first-hand
experience with the irritation of poison ivy.
If we add the fact that perhaps a majority of us live in
houses that are built in large part from lumber, we begin
to see that humankind is highly dependent on plants of
all types and varieties. Much of the fuel we use for heat
and energy may be directly or indirectly traced to plant
origins. The very paper that this book is printed upon
started out as wood pulp.
Last, but by no means least, plants provide a means of
livelihood, completely or partially, for many people ranging
from farmers to landscape architects.
Robert P. Ealy
Professor emeritus
Department of Landscape Architecture
Kansas State University
(Adapted from the essay "Plants in our Lives")
Preface
Foreword
Plants in the Landscape
Plants have been with us from time immemorial. Just as
humankind developed step by faltering step from ancient
ancestors, so have the plants we know today struggled to
survive the rapidly changing environment on our earth.
Many of these plants were lost along the way while others,
such as the Ginkgo, have survived without much
modification. Most of them, however, have adapted to
change, and we see them today in a variety of forms.
When we think of the role of plants in our lives, each of
us thinks of plants in relation to our own experiences.
Probably the first thing that comes to mind for many of
us is the plant origin of the food we eat. Perhaps for
lunch we had fresh corn on the cob and a salad of lettuce
and tomatoes, topped off with a slice of juicy watermelon
for dessert. Even the animals we depend upon for protein
depend upon plants in the form of pasture grass,
hay, or grain for nourishment.
In landscape compositions, we are often unaware of the
visual impact plants have upon us. In the autumn woods
we note the bright colors of foliage and fruit displayed in
great profusion; we listen to the sigh of the wind in the
pines; we smell the smoke of a campfire. We see a distant
mountaintop, white with a snowy crown. It contrasts
with the blue of the autumn sky and the golden yellow of
the dancing aspen leaves framing the view. One can find
a sense of well being in the landscape--a peace of mind
not present amid the cacophonies of noise, offensive
odors, and sights of the crowded urban world.
Landscape architects can use a technical knowledge and
a "feel for plants" to create opportunities for this sense of
well being, and for this aesthetic experience. Landscape
architects look beneath the superficial and study the
characteristics of plants and what makes them appealing
to the senses. The color value of plants is self-evident to
many of us, yet some subtleties require a second look, a
deeper perception. The red twigs of a dogwood shrub
against the white of winter snow, the mottled bark of a
sycamore or a true Chinese elm, and hundreds of other
examples add up to many enjoyable experiences when
plants are used for more than decoration. We find color
variations throughout the year--the variety of colorful
flowers that bloom in different seasons, the fresh light
green of new leaves in the spring, the deep green hues of
summer foliage, the bright contrasts of fall colors, and
the delicate variations of browns on twigs and bark in
winter.
Texture is another characteristic that plants exhibit in
great variety. Some plants are coarse, such as the Catalpa,
with its large leaves, or the tropical banana plant. Others
have medium-sized leaves or leaves that are small and
narrow. Deciduous trees with small twigs produce fine-textured
effects when bare. In stark design contrast, the
large twigs of the Kentucky coffee bean or the tree of
heaven give a design composition a course impression.
Plants, as design elements, come in all sorts of shapes
and sizes. Form, as a design feature, is a very important
when choosing plants for a composition. Next to color,
people often recognize this characteristic more readily
than any other, so it may be used more frequently to
focus attention or to provide variety in a planting space.
Grasses and creeping ground covers give us low, spreading
forms to provide our spaces with a living surface.
Slightly higher are prostrate types such as Andorra creeping
juniper and many of the cotoneasters. They are in
turn exceeded by the round forms of Mugo pine and
boxwoods, the vase shape of certain junipers, the towering
pyramids of narrow-leaved evergreens and sweet
gums, the irregular asymmetry of Meyers juniper and
selected firethorns, and the broad crowns of many deciduous
shade trees. The list goes on and on, and a designer
may use numerous form varieties in a single composition.
The landscape architect is often called upon to draw
attention to a particular area. This can be done by focusing
the attention of the viewer, through contrast, upon a
specific plant or mass of plants different from those nearby.
For example, one 10-foot pyramidal green juniper
among 15 low-spreading green junipers would compel
the viewer's attention through shape and size alone.
Change it to a silver-gray Rocky Mountain juniper and
you reinforce the accent of form and size with color.
Change the low plantings to low shrubs of contrasting
texture and you have brought contrast and accent into
play for maximum visual experience.
In similar fashion plants are selected to serve as background
for objects the way a group of buildings can be
viewed against a mountain slope or a piece of garden
sculpture. If our goal is to focus upon a specific object in
a composition, background plants must be subordinate
to the object and not dominate it. If they become more
attractive to a viewer than the object, the composition
fails. If they blend into a monotonous sameness of color,
shape, and texture effect, the composition fails again.
There are many other related factors to be considered
by a landscape architect: defining usable space, reinforcing
nonplant design elements, complementing architectural
accents, framing aesthetic views, screening out
undesirable views, controlling pedestrian circulation, or
providing interesting sources for sounds, seasonal
changes, or shadow patterns for aesthetic effect.
The landscape architect should understand the fact that
plants have a positive psychological effect upon people.
Garrett Eckbo (1969) refers to plants as "our poetic lifeline
back to Mother Nature in an increasingly denatured
world." The garden was the site where ancient Chinese
philosophers contemplated the human role in the world.
To many, plants may be symbolic of happenings in other
times and places. To some the drooping branches of
weeping willows suggest drooping spirits. The fragrance
of spring flowers can lift our spirits, and the putrid smell
of Gingko fruits can offend. A farmer, coming in from
the summer wheat field, appreciates the shade of cottonwoods
near the house. These natural air conditioners
fend off the rays of the sun and, through transpiration,
add evaporative, cooling effects to a space.
The landscape architect uses plants in many ways to
modify the climate of a space. Windbreaks, shelterbelts,
and plantings for glare control and the control of soil
moisture, drifting snow, and sinking cold air in a valley
are all specific uses for which plants can be designed. We
know that trees and shrubs serve as filters to screen out
pollutant particles and also reduce irritating noises significantly
within the crowded urban space.
During the Dust Bowl days of the 1930s, we became
acutely aware of the need for plantings to combat soil
erosion. The Soil Conservation Service was organized to
research the problem in consultation with other agencies
and individuals. Improved tillage techniques for the soil
surface were developed, as were plant uses to combat
wind and rain erosion. Windbreak and shelterbelt plantings
of trees and shrubs, ground-cover plantings of
indigenous plant materials, dust- and sand-control
plantings, grassed water channels, stream-bank stabilization,
and watershed protection plantings were design
applications originating from this era.
Plants also serve as indicators of soil and erosion conditions.
Sedges and cattails say "It is wet"; cacti and succulents
say "It is dry." Ericaceous plants say "It is an acid
soil," and saltgrass and atriplex say "It is salty here."
Certain plants produce symptoms that indicate the
presence of air pollutants of various kinds. Grapes and
redbud leaves become deformed, curled, cupped, and
streaked with yellow when some chemical weed controls
appear in the air. Tomato plants quickly succumb to
gases such as methane, and dwarf Yaupon holly is quite
susceptible to carbon monoxide from auto exhaust.
Many plants produce chemicals of value to the human
race. The old herbalists knew of some of these many
years ago. Native Americans used parts of the indigo
bush, Amorpha fruiticosa, as a dye and the crushed fruit
as a means of stunning fish. We know now that the plant
contains a chemical similar to rotenone.
There are poisonous plants, too. From literature we
have heard of hemlock. Our ranchers know the effect of
locoweed on their cattle, and many of us have had first-hand
experience with the irritation of poison ivy.
If we add the fact that perhaps a majority of us live in
houses that are built in large part from lumber, we begin
to see that humankind is highly dependent on plants of
all types and varieties. Much of the fuel we use for heat
and energy may be directly or indirectly traced to plant
origins. The very paper that this book is printed upon
started out as wood pulp.
Last, but by no means least, plants provide a means of
livelihood, completely or partially, for many people ranging
from farmers to landscape architects.
Robert P. Ealy
Professor emeritus
Department of Landscape Architecture
Kansas State University
(Adapted from the essay "Plants in our Lives")
Summary
Complete coverage of the art and science of planting design
This comprehensive guide provides clear, step-by-step instructions for creating a planting composition, from preplanning
and developing a preliminary design to implementing the final plan. It enables designers to strike a balance between
technical issues�such as regional vegetation requirements, soil grade, and climate, noise, and erosion control�and
aesthetic considerations, including color, form, and seasonal variation.
Generously illustrated with more than 300 line drawings and photographs that reinforce and clarify the material
in each chapter, Elements of Planting Design:
Offers a full overview of the ecology of planting design
Provides in-depth information on plants as design elements
Covers planting design for large- and small-scale residential and commercial sites
Includes challenging study questions and sample projects
Table of Contents
Foreword.
Acknowledgments.
Chapter 1. The Ecology of Planting Design.
Chapter 2. A Process for Planting Design.
Chapter 3. Designing with Plants.
Chapter 4. Planting Plan Graphics.
Chapter 5. Resources.