Man-Made Landscape: Prepared in Cooperation With the International Federation of Landscape...

museums and monuments XVI

The man-made landscape

museums and monuments XVI

Titles in this series :

I

I1

I11

IV

V

VI

VI1

VI11

Ix

X

XI

XI1

XI11

XIV

xv

XVI

Sites and monuments : problems of today. IOO pages, 115 illustrations, plans, index, 2nd ed., 1953 (bilingual), out of print. The care of paintings. 164 pages, 87 illustrations, diagrams, index, 2nd ed., 1952 (bilingual), out of print. Cuzco : reconstruction of the town and restoration of its monuments. 64 illustrations and maps, 1952 (also in French and Spanish), out of print. Saint Sophia of Ochrida : preservation and restoration of the building and its frescoes. 28 pages, 37 illustrations and maps, 1953 (also in French), out of print. Manual of travelling exhibitions. 112 pages, 18 diagrams, 70 illustrations, 1953 (also in French), out of print, see number X below. Lebanon : suggestions for the plan of Tripoli and for the surroundings of the Baalbeck Acropolis. 48 pages, I map, 7 diagrams, 44 illustrations, 1934 (out of print). Syria : problems of preservation and presentation of sites and monuments. 52 pages, GI illustrations, 3 maps, 1954 (also in French and Arabic), out of print. Protection of cultural property in the event of armed conflict. 346 pages, 124 figures, 137 illustrations, 1958 (French edition is out of print). The organtration of museums : practical advice. 188 pages, 18 figures, 8 tables, 91 illustrations, 1959 (also in French). Temporary and travelling exhibitions. 123 pages, 23 figures, 88 illustrations, 1963 (also in French). The conservation of cultural propero, with special reference to tropical conditions. Prepared in co-operation with the International Centre for the Study of the Preservation and Restoration of Cultural Property, Rome, 341 pages, 60 figures, 43 illustrations, 1967 (also in French and Spanish). Field manual for museums. 176 pages, 44 figures, 3 5 plates (also in French). Underwater archaeology : a nascent discipline. 308 pages, 97 figures, 67 plates, 1972 (also in French). Preserving and restoring monuments and historic buildings. 267 pages, 36 figures, 37 plates, 1972 (also in French). Museums, imagination and education. 148 pages, 70 plates, 1973 (also in French). The man-made landscape. Prepared in co-operation with the International Federation of Landscape Architects, I 78 pages, 8 figures, 46 illustrations, 1977.

The man-made landscape

Prepared in co-operation with the International Federation of Landscape Architects

.

Published in 1977 by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization, 7, Place de Fontenoy, 75700 Paris Printed by Imprimeries Rtunies S.A., Lausame

ISBN 92-3-101455-2

0 Unesco 1977 Printed in Switxerland

Contents

Foreword

The atlthors

I Introduction by HIROSHI DAIFUKU

z Amsterdam: green spaces for a city on land recovered from the sea by F. G. BREMAN

3 The urban landscape and the care of trees by A. HOEKSTRA

4 Utilitarian construction in the man-made landscape-waterways by PETER WHITE

1 Historic gardens Introduction by R E N ~ PECHBRE The European experience by M. F. DOWNING Japanese gardens by YOSHINOBU YOSHINAGA

6 Planning landscaping programmes by GERHARD OLSCHOWY

7 A reclamation programme- strip mining by GERHARD OLSCHOWY

7

9

I 1

15

41

13

73 71

88

I11

8 Regional planning-an example 127 from the United States by HUBERT B. OWENS

9 Landscape reclamation in the United States by CHRISTOPHER TUNNARD

Appendixes

I Trees and the man-made landscape 169 by G. PARLEVLIET

t Trees for urban areas 177 in the tropics and sub-tropics by H, R. FUCHS-LEEUWIN

List of illustrations

I. 2.

8. 9.

IO. zz. 12. 13.

20. 2I. 22.

23.

24.

2J. 2 6.

Plates A terraced ricefield, Bali, Indonesia. (a) The face of Rameses 11. (b) Reassembling the temples of Abu Simbel. Palenque, a classic Maya site in Mexico. Machu Picchu, Peru. A modern motorway. The sea coast and waste disposal. Production-Neolithic and industrial revolution. Aerial view of polder land in 1936. Aerial view of the same area in 1970. Pony rides in Het Bos. Fishing and boating in Het Bos. (a), (b) Scenes from Amstelland. (a) , (b) Air views-infra-red- of Amsterdam showing the condition of trees. Effect of water-logging on tree growth. Severn River at Worcester. Garbage. . . New uses for old buildings. Newhall branch, Birmingham (before). (a), (b) Newhall branch, after and detail. A thermal power station along a canal. Storm water discharge. Patterns in brick. The Engine Arm Aqueduct- Smethwick. (a) The Romantic period in England, ' Praeneste' . (b) Stourhead. Vaux-le-Vicomte. Chenonceaux in the Loire Valley.

27. 2 8.

3 6.

37.

J 8- 99. 40.

4'. 42.

Versailles. The Powerscourt Demesne, Enniskerry. Model of a shinden palace and garden. Natural formations along the seacoast of Japan. The Kinkakuji or Roku-onji temple. The Ryoanji temple garden. The garden of the Shugakuin Imperial Villa. (a), (b) The Unesco garden. (U) A modern cutter wheel excavator used in strip mining. (b) A strip mine in the Rhineland. (a) Reclamation and agricultural development. (b) Reclamation and landscape development in the Rhineland. Eroded land in the Tennessee Valley in the 1930s. The I 93 7 flood in Paducah, Kentucky. The Hiwassee Dam in North Carolina. (a) River transport in the 1930s. (b) Modern barge 'tows' in the TVA system. Coal-fuelled electric generating plant. (a) Conditions prior to rural electrification. (b) Installing power lines. Contemporary farming scene. Fishing and afforestation. Atlanta, symbol of the new South. (a) Pastureland from reclaimed strip mining. (b) Afforestation of strip-mined land.

List of illustrations

Figzlres I. Man-hours reduced through new 4. (a), (b) Lignite area of the Rhineland. techniques . 5. Reclamation of farm land. 2. Use of multispectral sensing equipment. 6. The Southern United States. 3. Eighteenth-century map of 7. (a), (b) The TVA system of dams. Birmingham.

8

Foreword

The term ‘landscape’ refers to the surface of the earth, a surface which is constantly subject to change from natural forces such as climatic seasonal changes, erosional effects of wind and water, the growth of vegetation, changes in faunal associations. . . the list is endless and the interplay of all these forces is highly complex. In addition, the increasingly important

effects of man, his way of life and his machines affect not only the natural landscape, but the area of the man-made landscape formed by the extractive industries and the construction of buildings, highways, dams-a list which is impressively long is increasingly affecting &~~FsE& landscape. The construction of a dam and the intro-

duction of irrigation agriculture may cause a desert to bloom. Conversely, the agricultural practices followed may cause a rise in the heavily saline water-table resulting in waterlogging and salinization so that vegetation disappears, the fields are abandoned and ironically the desert area is expanded. A concrete highway may cut through forest lands and the change in the environment may condemn a local specialized species of plant to extinction. A covered bridge con-

structed during the eighteenth century may recall a more leisurely period, its replacement by a new concrete bridge, widened to admit heavier automobile traffic may not only destroy associations with the past, but also contribute to increased motor traffic; as a consequence, the exhaust fumes may affect the surrounding vegetation and other social changes in nearby towns be accelerated. The discussion which follows attempts to

review some of the consequences of change, the need for conservation and necessity of encouraging programmes which would contribute to the well-being

lh§ A; it has already been the subject of studies on the environment and the biosphere, the natural landscape is touched upon, but the main concentration is upon the man-made landscape. Many of the chapters which are included

in this publication were prepared with the collaboration of the International Federa- tion of Landscape Architects (IFLA), a non-governmental organization affiliated with Unesco. Opinions and views expressed are, of

course, those of the authors.

9

The authors

BREMAN, Floris Gerard

Studied horticulture and landscape architecture at Boskoop and forestry and general management at L4rnhem (Netherlands) ; Ex- ecutive officer, Amsterdam, in charge of Forest Park of Amsterdam (1936-50); Deputy Head of Parks Department, Amsterdam (1950-56); Head of Parks Department, Amsterdam (I 9 5 6-74) ; Trea- surer, IFLA (1964-67); Secretary of IFLA (1967-73); ChargC de Mission, IFLA (1973-76); President of IFLA (1976-).

DAIFUKU, Hiroshi

B.A., University of Hawaii (1942); Ph.D., Harvard University (195 I); Instructor, cultural anthropology, University of Wiscon- sin (1949-5 2); Assistant Curator, State Historical Society Museum, Madison, Wisconsin (195 2-5 3); Unesco, Programme Specialist, Development of Museums (1954-62); Preservation of Cultural Prop- erty (1962-66); Chief, Monuments and Sites Section (I 967-).

DOWLING, Michael F.

M.Sc. (Newcastle); advanced diploma in landscape architecture (Reading), FILA (United Kingdom) Landscape architect with Essex County Council Planning Department, Basildon New Town Devel- opment Corporation and City of Newcastle upon Tyne Architects Department until

1965; lecturer in landscape design, Uni- versity of Newcastle upon Tyne (196j-); publications : Landscape Constrtlction, joint author of Landscape Reclamation and Land- scape Reclamation Practice, and articles in specialized journals.

HOEKSTRA, A. Botanist, graduate of Frederiksoord (Agri- cultural and Horticultural Polytechnical School) (Netherlands), Chief Executive of the Amsterdam Park Department and Co- ordinator of Research.

OLSCHOWY, Gerhard Studies in landscape design at the Universi- ty of Berlin and the Technical University of Munich; completed Master’s thesis (diplo- m a in engineering) (1949); doctorate in horticulture in the University of Hanover (195 5). Scientific associate at the Institute of Applied Phytosociology in Weihenstephan (near Munich) and Chief of Division for Landscape Management, Federal Ministry for Nutrition, Agriculture and Forestry (1964-); Director of Federal Research Cen- tre for Nature Conservation and Landscape Ecology as well as lecturer for landscape management and Honorary Professor, University of Bonn.

I1

The authors

I 2

OWENS, Hubert B.

B.S.A., M.A. (University of Georgia). LLD, Clemson University; Instructor Berry College, Rome, Georgia (United States) (1926-28); established and developed programme in professional landscape architecture, University of Georgia (1928); Served as Adjunct Professor, Department Head, Professor and Division Chairman (1928-69); Dean, School of Environmental Design (1969-73) ; Emeritus since 1973 ; American Society of Landscape Architects : Fellow (1955), Secretary (195 5-59), Presi- dent (1965-67) ; International Federation of Landscape Architects : ASLA Delegate (1954-bo), Honorable Secretary (1956-63), Vice-president (I 963-74), President (1974-76). First landscape architect, Geor- gia Highway Department (1936-3 8); Mem- ber United States Department of Commerce Citizens Advisory Committee on Highway Beautification (1965-67); Royal Art Society (196c-); Trustee Georgia Trust for Historic Preservation (1971-); author; lecturer.

PARLEVLIET, G. Studied landscape architecture, Agriculture University of Wageningen (Netherlands), while working at several different offices in landscape architecture and planning (1960-69). Assistant Professor, Department of Landscape Architecture, University of Wageningen (I 971-).

PECH~RE, RenC

Diploma, L'gcole de l'Horticulture de l'atat, Vilvoorde (Belgium) (193 2); studies at the Ecole Nationale SupCrieure des Eaux et Forkts, Nancy (France) (certz$cat itranger) (1933); attended courses at the Institut d'urbanisme de l'UniversitC de Paris (1947); Adviser on 'green spaces', Ministry of Public Works, Brussels (Belgium); Pro- fessor at the &ole Nationale SupCrieure d'Architecture et des Arts Visuels ; member

of the Royal Commission of Monuments and Sites, etc.; Chairman of the joint lFLA/ICOMOS Committee on Historic Gardens; many articles in specialized journals.

TUNNARD, Christopher

Visiting Lecturer, Harvard University Graduate School of Design (1939-42); Wheelwright Travelling Fellow in Archi- tecture, Harvard (1943-44); Director of planning studies, Yale University (1946-) ; Professor of city planning, Yale University (1961-71); Doctor of Fine Arts (Hon.), Union College (1966); Member, United States Advisory Council on Historic Preser- vation (1966-68); Member, United States National Committee for ICOMOS (196%); Doctor at Laws (Hon.), University of Vic- toria, Canada (1970).

WHITE, Peter R. Diploma in architecture (Birmingham, United Kingdom) RIBA. Private practice (1964-67); Project Architect, City of Bir- mingham (1967-70); (Civic Trust Award (1969)). Since 1970, specializing in waterside planning, design and development as Brit- ish Waterways Board's Architect/Planner. Author of BWB, W a t e m q Environment Handbook (1972). Civic Trust Award (1973); three European Architectural Heritage Awards (1975); Development of environmental management policy, architectural conservation of canal and riverside envi- rons, throughout the United Kingdom; contributor and adviser to several publications, e.g., Canal Architectwe in Britain BWB (197~); Canal's in Tozvns, L. Braith- waite, A. C. Black (1976).

YOSHINAGA, Yoshinobu

BSc. (1922) Department of Agriculture, University of Tokyo (Japan); worked on

The authors

the research of ancient Japanese Gardens with Dr Hara of the University of Tokyo (1923-); Member of the Committee for the Preservation of Monuments and Historic Sites (192.9); D.AG (Honorary Doctor’s degree), in landscape architecture, Tokyo University (1940); Chief, Division of Gardens.

Monuments and Historic Sites, Ministry of Education (1941); publications: Change of the Structure of Gardens of the Joshi-ji Temple, Histov of Japanese Historic Gardens, Develop- ment of Japanese Norticzdtaral Sites, Japdnese Gardens and Design and Jtracture of Japanese

Hiroshi Daifuku

Introduction I

Hundreds of thousands of years ago man, as a species, must have been rare for the number of fossils which have been found are small in number. Man must have been one of several predatory species and his effect on the ecology was minimal. Many early ‘industries’, traditions in manufacturing tools and weapons of flint, have been identified but the physical traces of man himself are few. However, on an archaeological site in a small valley near Budapest, Hungary, a heavily walled basal portion of a humanoid skull was found. During the course of archaeological excavations, an ancient hot spring was located. The clay banks surrounding the spring were covered with hoof prints of ungulates, including such long extinct forms as the European rhinoceros, belonging to the second (Min- del) glacial period. An analysis of fossil pollen grains found at the site showed that, apparently, the climate was Mediterranean and warmer than at present so that it must have been during one of the interstadials, or warm intervals during the second glacial period. Even today, the mass of hoof prints is impressive, indicating favourable conditions for game. In striking contrast to the circular hoof prints of the ungulates, however, the long narrow print of a humanoid foot can be seen-the earliest known imprint of man on the European landscape. It is not possible to have a clear indica-

tion of the size of the population during the Late Pleistocene. However, if we use a comparison, the number of people living

on game during the period of early contacts with Europeans had a population density which varied from a ratio of 1-1.6: IO km2 (in parts of Australia, the ratio was I : 60 km2 under aboriginal conditions). In spite of these small ratios, the effects

of man on the ecological situation prevailing at the end of the Upper Pleistocene was quite drastic. Many species of giant game which had survived for millions of years became extinct. Nearly all palaeontologists and anthropologists consider that this was due to man. All the temperate zone forms of elephants (mammoths and mastodons), cave bear, sabre-toothed tiger, the dire wolf, several forms of camel, the giant ground sloth (from the New World), etc. disappeared and the repercussions which resulted from the change in faunal type inevitably affected the landscape as well. In the Upper Palaeolithic, game drives

must have taken place, for at Solutrian sites the mangled skeletons of horses showed where they had been driven over cliffs and slaughtered. In later times, the Plains In- dians, in what is now the United States of America, set fire to the winter-killed grass, scorching it to encourage new growth for the bison upon which they preyed. As a result, the prairies were much vaster in area than they are today. Since the disappearance of the great herds and an economy based on bison hunting, much of the prairie has become woodland reflecting man’s influence on the landscape even at primitive levels.

Hiroshi Daifuku

16

Primitive agriculturalists also affect their surroundings. ‘Slash-and-burn’ farmers gir- dle, kill and set fire to dead trees to prepare fields for cultivation. After several crops, when the fertility of the soil is exhausted, the fields are abandoned to weeds and brush, and after several years, trees gradually reappear. In areas where such agriculture is practised, the erosional process is accelerated with the loss of tree cover and the landscape correspondingly changed. Faunal associations and the very course of streams and rivers can be affected, for such changes can have repercussions. Pastoralists and settled agriculturalists

also affect their surroundings. The needs of domestic animals, their pasturage, the need for protection against marauding beasts, .

impose new patterns on the environment. In Europe, for example, beginning with the Late Neolithic, small villages sprang up and much of the forest which had prevailed until then was cleared for fields and for livestock. As level farming land became increasingly exploited, land which had been marginal, on hillsides, for example, was farmed and this contributed to the erosional process or, eventually such land was terraced and irrigated (Plate I), again changing the ecology and affecting the appearance of the landscape. Archaeological records show that once it

was found out that a supply of edible plants could be assured through cultivation and that some animals bred rapidly and easily under man’s control, domestication spread rapidly. There must have been a long series of experiments. In the case of pre-dynastic Egypt, many species of animals have been found in association with man, which suggests that a wide range of experiments were made. This sort of experimentation was probably widespread and those plants or animals which were successfully domesticated were quickly diffused. Examples abound. In the highlands of Peru, a kind of pigweed is grown but its cultivation has not spread. O n the other hand, the potato,

maize, many beans and squashes, tomatoes, tobacco, etc., which had been successfully domesticated by the American Indian, were very rapidly adopted in Europe, Africa and Asia after they were brought back to Europe by early settlers. Similarly, cattle, sheep and the horse of Old World origin are now found throughout the world except for the most inhospitable regions. Fields, orchards and pastureland modified the landscape and competing forms of life which were considered valueless or which preyed upon the grains, fruits and the herds and flocks of man were decimated. Some forms, in parasitic association, such as mice and rats and symbiotes such as the dog and the cat, also attained cosmopolitan distribution. In summary, while small hunting groups

affected the landscape, it was not until the Neolithic or food-producing revolution took place that significant changes began. The rise of urban civilizations introduced new dimensions. As social organization became more complex a smaller proportion of the population spent their full time in the production of food. It meant that food surpluses developed and freed a percentage of the population from the necessity of hunting or gathering wild products for food to become specialists-potters, weav- ers, warriors, priests, political leaders, etc. In turn, a social revolution took place, the establishment of urban centres, city-states, kingdoms and other large socio-political units which transcended the family, clan and tribe so that in due course there resulted a fundamental division between the food-producing pastoral agriculturalists and the townsmen. Moenjodaro and other cities of the early

urban sites (c. 3000 B.c.), found in the Indus Valley of Pakistan, were carefully laid out, following a rectilinear street plan and provided with elaborate corbelled drains running to sumps. The water supply and sewage disposal system was in advance for its time and did not find its equal until the Roman period. The buildings of the city

Introduction

Plate I Rice field terraces in Bali (Indonesia). (Photo : Unesco/Daifuku.)

'7

Hiroshi Daifuku

I8

Plate 2 (a) The temples of Abu Simbel were carved

into the sandstone cliffs bordering the Nile in Nubian Egypt. The construction of the High D a m near Aswan created a lake which would have inundated this master- piece. This represents the face of one of the colossal statues of Rameses I1 which has just been detached from the cliff to be transported to the.plateau.

Introduction

(6) The temples were reassembled on the plateau and landscaped to restore them to their original appearance. The work was completed in 1970.

(Photor : Unesco/Nenadovic.)

Hiroshi Daifuku

2 0

were made of baked brick bound together with a mud mortar. Homes were furnished with a well and stands for water jars. Today, the visitor to Moenjodaro remarks upon the severe, functional appearance of the city. It is as if, in this early urban civilization, man did not need to be remind- ed of nature. Gardens and landscaping did not seem to be of interest to the inhabitants of the city. Much greater attention was given to the

role of nature and to the landscape in later developments elsewhere. Records and models found in the tombs of the wealthy of ancient Egypt showed that architects prepared sketches and then plans laying out the position of houses, ornamental pools, trees and gardens. There were specialists who supervised and maintained the gardens. Flowering plants were planted in borders and tree-lined avenues led from the principal highway to the home. Monumen- tal architecture frequently exploited the landscape. The monumental architecture varied

from great pyramids which served as tombs for the pharaohs to immense temples. Among these were the sculpted temples of Abu Simbel in the sandstone cliffs of Nubia. The fasade of the Great Temple is dominated by four colossal statues of Rameses 11, each about twenty metres high. The fasade itself is about thirty-five metres wide at the base and some thirty- two metres in overall height. At its base, a hall was carved into the cliff, lined with statues and terminating in the innermost sanctuary where the statues of Ptah, Amun, Rameses and Re-Horakhty were found. The Great Temple, together with the Small Temple before which were carved the statues of the Pharaoh‘s wife, Nefertari, would have been inundated by the lake created by the construction of the High Dam near Aswan in the 1960s. In an international campaign directed by Unesco the world response was such that sufficient funds were raised to enable the temples to be cut away

in blocks from the sandstone cliff; the blocks were transported to a site above the level of the lake, and reassembled and the surroundings of the temples were re- created as if they still stood as an integral part of the cliffs from which they were hewn. (Plates 2 a, b) . Today, visited by thousands, their continued survival is a reminder of the achievements of a past civilization and of the importance that such survival can have to the present and to posterity. Aesthetically, however, the outstanding

example of Egyptian architectural prowess is seen in the design and construction of the mortuary temple of Queen Hatshepsut who ruled over Egypt during the sixteenth century B.C. It is located about four and a half kilometres from the Nile at Dair-al-Bahri. Once a walled avenue lined with trees led from the Nile to the temple, a low-lying structure characterized by a series of colon- naded courts which were reached by wide stairs framed against the steep western cliffs of Thebes. Even today, although defaced by her successor Thutmose, and by time, the temple is impressive in its ruined state. In the Euphrates Valley, another out-

standing example of the development of landscape architecture is seen in the famed hanging gardens of Babylon, which were the culmination of engineering and landscape development of the Neo-Babylonian period (seventh to the sixth century B.c.). Its fortifications, wide thoroughfares, the seven-storey ziggurat located in the centre of the city, at the summit of which was located the ‘home’ of the god, made it one of the most impressive sites in western Asia. The Ishtar gate, with bas-reliefs on the walls showing dragons and lions in enamelled brick, provided a spectacular entry to the city. However, the most famed element was the hanging gardens themselves-trees planted on terraces supported by arched vaults-which were considered to be one of the seven wonders of the Ancient World. According to tradition, they were built by Nebuchadnezzar to

Introduction

please his Median wife by reminding her of the tree-covered slopes of her homeland or they may have been more prosaically planted to provide shade in the torrid summers which characterized the region. The technical skills needed to build and install the pumps required to keep them watered were perhaps the most impressive element of the gardens. Early urban developments in the Far

East also paid attention to landscaping. Models found in tombs show that the basic pattern was the construction of dn-cllings surrounding a court yard sheltering An extended family and ranging from homes for farmers to vast palaces that repeated this basic pattern. Descriptions of the layout of the T’ang capital of Ch‘ang-An were probably applicable to earlier cities ; their layout resembles that of modern Peking. The plan was rectangular and within the city was an inner walled area, where the officials and the members of the imperial family dwelled. Beyond the northern wall was the Imperial Park. Emperors often built vast enclosures containing palaces and pavilions in which architects planned lakes, streams, hills, etc. often imitating scenes taken from landscape paintings. Trees were planted and, on occa- sion, full grown specimens were brought in special wagons and at great cost to establish a mature wood for the delight of a ruler. [Jrban planning in pre-Columbian

America made frequent use of the dramatic potentialities of the natural landscape. The Aztecs, for example, established their capital on a low island in Lake Texcoco (which is now the site of Mexico City) partly for reasons of security. As their military and political power expanded, Itzcbatl, who ac- ceded to the leadership in A.D. 1428, ‘or- dained the ranks of the civil government, and superintended the building of the city, constructing causeways to the mainlancV.1

I. George C. Vaillant, Axtecr of Mexico ; Origin, Rise and Fall of the Aztec Nation, Garden City, N. Y., Doubleday, Doran & Co. Inc., 1947.

In 1440, he was succeeded by Montezuma I who, besides extending the sway of the Aztec rule, built an aqueduct from the springs of Chapultepec to bring sweet water to the city and erected a dyke to protect it from floods. Succeeding leaders expanded Aztec control and by the time the Spaniards arrived under CortCs it was a thriving metropolis. Accounts by the Spaniards, supplemented by archaeological research, portrayed a low island traversed by canals. Pyramidal structures marked the site of temples, of which the most important was dedicated to Huitzil6pochtli. As Vaillant noted, the Spaniards, who came from what was then a leading military power in Eu- rope and who were familiar with many important European cities, were struck by the beauty of the city. One of the conquis- tadores, Bernal Diaz del Castillo, tells how his comrade-in-arms exclaimed

It is like the enchantments they tell of in the legend of Amadis! Are not the things we see a dream? . . .Gazing on such wonderful sights, we did not know what to say or whether what appeared before us was real, for on one side in the land there were great cities and in the lake ever so many more and the lake itself was crowded with canoes and in the causeway were many bridges at intervals.

Surrounded by ‘floating gardens’ (rafts covered with earth upon which plants and flowers were grown) the city rivalled those in contemporary Europe in beauty. Other spectacular sites such as those built by the Maya reveal the architectural creativity of the people in the New World. (Plate 3). Other examples of the relationship be-

tween construction and the landscape are found in pre-Columbian American civilizations. While Inca architecture was largely utilitarian, characterized by the building of aqueducts, canals, terraced fields perched on the slopes of the Andes, highways, still there are few sites as imposing as Machu Picchu. The buildings, located on a narrow ridge with a sharp peak and a mass of 21

Hiroshi Daifuku

Plate 3 Palenque (Mexico), a Maya site of the Classic period. The tower to the right is thought to be an observatory as the Mayan priest-scholar developed a very accurate calendar based on astronomical observations. (Photo : Unesco/Garraud.)

22

Introduction

Plate 4 Machu Picchu (Peru). One of the most dramatic sites of early urban civilizations, located on a narrow ridge in the Andes. (Photo : Unesco/R. Laurenza.)

Hiroshi Daifuku

24

mountains behind it, offer one of the most striking examples of man’s effect on the landscape. The looming masses of the mountains behind the site, the steep ridges which delimitate it and plunge to the tor- rents below present a dramatic setting which, unaltered by man, would have been one of the many similar neighbouring sites. (Plate 4). Many other examples exist of the recipro-

cal interplay between man and nature. The humble dwellings of peasants and fishermen located along the Grecian islands of the Mediterranean, the Irish Sea or the little islets dotting the Inland Sea of Japan underline that beauty and the fitness of design need not necessarily mean the grandiose constructions of a Ch‘in emperor or a Byz- antine palace. Moreover, they represent age-old traditions and adaptations to local climatic conditions and the social and economic needs of the people. Nevertheless, there were still inherent

limitations, because kingdoms or empires might rise but the sources of energy which could be utilized were limited and had to be renewed. Perhaps the most useful-and a development from the Neolithic-were large domesticated animals such as the ox, ass and horse which could be used for riding purposes or as draft animals. However, they were not essential to the development of urban civilization. Except for the ubiquitous dog, only one animal was found in the Americas which could serve as a beast of burden, the llama. However, the male llama weighs about 99 to IOO kilograms and carries loads of about 5 o to 60 kilograms. O n land, for most of the other indigenous urban civilizations found in the New World, the beast of burden was the human porter. Nevertheless, civilizations grew and trade and commerce were widely spread. Metals, while useful, were also not essen-

tial for the rise of civilization. In the Old World, bronze (the alloy of copper and tin) is usually associated with early urban devel-

opment. But it should be noted that this metal was primarily used for weapons and for sharp-edged tools. During the Bronze Age, agricultural implements differed but little from those used during the Neolithic and farmers had hoes of stone or shell, or made use of wooden implements, for bronze was relatively expensive. In the New World, metals were primarily used for ornamental purposes, and urban civilizations were based almost entirely on the use of stone tools. The great buildings found among the Aztec, Maya, Toltec, Inca and others were built with wooden and stone implements. Even in warfare, the Aztecs’ most effective weapon against the invading Spaniards was a club-like wooden sword, the cutting edge of which was formed by brittle razor-sharp obsidian flakes. While iron ores are far more common

than those of copper or tin, their reduction to metallic iron requires high temperatures. Furnaces capable of attaining the level required were not developed until about 1100 B.C. in Western Asia. The techniques required were diffused rapidly and the availability of iron ore caused its widespread use so that even utilitarian tools-once made only of stone or bone-were rapidly replaced by metal tools. During the fifteenth to the seven-

teenth centuries, trade and commerce expanded steadily in Europe. The need for charcoal to convert iron ore to metal grew constantly. Deforestation was accelerated and illustrative of the limitations which developed, a number of acts of Parliament were passed during the latter half of the sixteenth century tu control the number and location of iron works to protect supplies of timber. Coal as a fuel had been in sporadic use for several centuries, but it was not suitable for the production of iron as volatile impurities resulted in a low grade of metal. Eventually under the spur of necessity, a process was developed whereby such impurities were driven off and the carbon in the coal was partially

Introduction

graphitized to yield coke. This development led to the rapid expansion of the iron industry, reducing the cost of the metal, and permitting the construction of machinery on a scale which had been unrealized heretofore. In the millennia preceding the industrial

revolution, water and wind were used as sources of energy. Water wheels served to raise water from flowing rivers to irrigate adjacent land and to power mills. The wind was harnessed to drive ships and, on land, wind mills were also used in areas where breezes were fairly constant. However, these sources of energy were

not easily transportable nor could they be concentrated. The development of the steam engine marked the beginning of power which could be used independently of its location. It marked the beginning of the industrial revolution. During the late seventeenth century, the first crude steam engines were developed, and used almost exclusively to pump water from the mines. In 1782, James Watt patented a double- acting engine which could be used for all kinds of work leading to the development of factories and eventually powered land travel (railways) and steam-powered ships. Technological developments accelerated

and, as a result, early obsolescence was common. The rapidity of change and the dislocations it has imposed on human society of the present indicate that we are still in the ‘revolutionary’ period. As in all beginnings, wastage and inefficiency were common. Prior to the industrial revolution, long training was needed to develop artisa- nal skills. The introduction of powered machinery meant that women and children and those lacking in skills could be engaged without intensive training and at much lower wages. Changes in economy accelerated movements away from small farms to the cities and added to the work force. Much of eighteenth and nineteenth century industrial development was accompanied by unfit accommodations and harsh living

conditions. Pollution and waste were accepted as necessary evils. As societies became increasingly complex, greater spe- cialization was possible which stimulated the growth of the sciences and technology and a major growth in population followed. There were warning voices. In 1798,

Malthus published the first of his essays on the relationship between population growth and the means of production. H e stated that unless populations were checked, they would grow in geometric progression while the production of food would only grow arithmetically. His prophecy has not yet been fulfilled because agriculture has also been subject to technological development. Vere Gordon Childe in Man &fakes Him

self introduced another thesis. After examination of archaeological evidence, he stated that the food-raising or Neolithic revolution resulted in an expansion of the world’s population as compared to a hunting and gathering economy. Similarly, when social organization went beyond the ties of kin- ship (family, clan and tribe) and established urban centres, the urban revolution was followed by a quantum growth in population. This was also the result of the industrial revolution; in other words, population explosions occurred after new ecological niches were opened. Kingsley Davis refined this concept.

His thesis is that, in contrast to the history of the industrialized states, many developing countries have population growth prior to their acquisition of industrial technology because of the partial adoption of technological advances which have distorted their development. A case in point would be world-wide programmes to control epidem- ic diseases, lower the incidence of infant

I. Vere Gordon Childe, Man Makes Himself, New American Library, New York, New York, 1951.

2. Kingsley Davis, ‘Urbanization of the Human Population’, Scieritijc Americatt, September ‘956.

Hiroshi Daifuku

26

’ Introduction

4 Plate J Modern motorway construction need not be ugly. The supports of the Sori viaduct have a sculptural quality and the curve of the motorway follows the pattern of the valley- the ‘Autostrada Genova--Sed Levante’. (Photo : Autostrada, S.p.A.)

Plate 6 The disposal of wastes and garbage is one of the crucial problems affecting the landscape, rivers and seas . . . and one of the more depressing aspects of the ‘man-made’ landscape. (Photo : Unesco/Voronteoff.)

Hiroshi Daifuku

Introduction

mortality, etc. without the social and other controls required to encourage small families. Technological development and the

means used to meet the needs of expanding urban populations have multiplied the effect of man on the landscape today. The demand for raw materials required for the manufacture of goods has resulted in the development of immense mining operations and open pit and strip mines have changed many areas of the world. The growing need for energy to fuel industries has resulted in the development of enormous hydroelectric projects, electric plants fueled by coal and petroleum and nuclear power. Great highways criss-cross continents and airfields exist near most important cities (Plate J). The elimination of wastes is not an im-

portant problem for people living in a hunting and gathering economy. With the Neolithic and early urban centres, however, the problem of eliminating refuse became more crucial. Developments such as Moen- jodaro are the exception. For the most part refuse was deposited nearby and scavenging dogs, rats and birds such as vultures aided in its disposal. Ancient sites such as Baby- lon are marked by huge mounds or tells representing the accumulation of years of occupation in which succeeding cultures built upon the debris of the past, furnishing archaeologists with the data for historical analyses. Not much progress has been realized since then. Many coastal cities have used adjoining marshlands (PL’ate 6) as dumps to be eventually filled, covered and even converted into parks. However, the ecological role of the marsh which provides shelter for many fishes and shellfish and

4 Plate 7 A Neolithic food-producing ‘plant’ in the foreground which converts grass and feed grains to milk, meat and hides with an industrial plant in the background. This is in Colombia but the scene could be reproduced elsewhere. (Photo : UnescoiAlmasy.)

serves as a nursery for many forms of fish which later go off to the sea, has been ignored. Inland, city dumps also contribute to the pollution of the countryside. Cities which have sent sewage to the sea or towed refuse out to be dumped off-shore are now faced with long-term problems affecting public health. Mines and factories have added to the over-all pollution of the environment. In the history of the development of

urban civilizations, cities are usually located where: (a) food is readily available; (b) communications are good; and to these positive factors are added the possibilities of the production of manufactured goods, services, or both. However, their growth is also introducing a paradoxical element-in that the very expansion of the city may take place at the price of reducing these favourable characteristics. An example is Japan. The largest island, Honshu, is largely mountainous. The central plains have been the granary of the island. The growth of cities has been accompanied by increased agricultural production based on the intensive use of fertilizers, insecticides and machinery-but the loss in acreage due to the buildings of high-rise structures, highways, factories, etc. is permanent. Japan, with its large urban population, is now dependent on imported food to a far greater degree than a few decades ago. Many other countries are faced with the problem of limited agricultural land and large populations share this dilemma. The growth of cities into giant coalesced units, the ‘mega- lopolis’, is destroying the hinterland which once nourished the inhabitants of urban centres.

Mass production, one of the characteristics of industrial development, while resulting in low unit cost, also imposes a high degree of similarity of the products which are made. Improved communications and the diffusion of ideas and techniques result in a high degree of similar-looking buildings in contemporary urban construction. 29

Hiroshi Daifuku

Protective measures are urgently needed to ensure the preservation of the historic appearance of both the natural and the man- made landscape. The possibilities for change are so great with the means which are currently available, that not only could the landscape become largely man-made, but it could also be largely restricted to current styles with a consequent loss of appreciation and understanding of our past and of man’s relationship with nature (Plate 7).

Concepts such as ‘spaceship earth‘ underline the fact that w e live in a closed system and that changes are not only far-reaching but are interrelated with a number of phenomena. The landscape is thus a fragile and sensitive indicator of changes taking place in the natural environment and of whether the people involved are concerned about their surroundings and the well-being of others.

F. G. Breman

Amsterdam-green spaces for a city on land recovered from the sea

INTRODUCTION

Amsterdam was a small fishing village located along the Amstel River which led into an inland arm of the Zuider Zee. Its development began with the construction of a dam to keep out the sea. To a considerable degree the city is ‘man-made’, as much of the land was recovered from swamps and eventually from the sea. The necessity to construct dams and canals to ensure dry land and to sink piles upon which buildings could be erected, led to its early development as a planned city. As it is based on water-borne silts, sands

and clays, building stones do not exist. Fired red brick became the characteristic building material and the old centre of the city, with its weathered brick buildings trimmed with white, facing tree-lined canals, gives Amsterdam its particular appearance and charm. The city grew concen- trically and even today red brick is still the characteristic building material, so that the outer, new sections of the city blend har- moniously with the old.

CATEGORIES OF THE CITY’S P A R K S

Within the city green space is maintained, in part through a programme of small to large parks which vary from I hectare to larger units up to 5 0 to IOO hectares in size. These parks offer breaks in the built-up areas of the city and provide its inhabitants relief from their immediate surroundings,

particularly for those who are restricted in their movements such as mothers with small children and older people. People who are employed in the area use such parks for relaxation during their lunch hours for exercise, etc. The following types of recreational facilities characterize the different categories of parks found in Amster- dam and many other cities.

Neighbourhood small parks, provided with benches, playing areas for toddlers such as sand-boxes, wading pools, ornamental flower borders, a few trees and tables for such games as chess or draughts, chairs. Larger parks serving a district or a quarter within a city provided with playgrounds for children with small obsta- cles such as log ladders, swings, roller- skating rinks, tennis courts, snack bars, ornamental plantings, etc. Town parks, equipped with much of the material outlined above, and having in addition larger recreational areas, including rides (ponies, camels, as well as miniature automobiles, etc.), marionette theatres, a small zoo, open-air dancing, space for one or two playing fields, tennis courts, a miniature golf course, res- taurant, as well as snack bars, bowling greens and bowling alleys, etc. Forest parks which are several hundred hectares in size and preserve existing wooded areas or, in the case of Amster- dam, created wooded areas for the inhabitants of the city where manifold

2

F. G. Breman

Plate 8 ‘Het BOS’ of Amsterdam. Aerial view taken in 1936 of the area to be converted into Amsterdam’s forest park. (Photo : Public Works Department, Amsterdam.)


PZate 3 Photograph of the same area in 1970 showing the use of tree plantings to separate groups and activities. (Photo : Public Works Department, Amsterdam.)

33

F. G. Breman

34

activities can be carried out, giving residents a feeling of being ‘away from the city’. As this represents a special case, a

fuller description is given below. For many years residents of Amster-

dam had to go at least 20 kilometres away to the sea or to the east, if they wished to find open space. In 1728, the City Council decided to establish a wooded area in the vicinity of Amster- dam. A total of 700 hectares of polder land were acquired south-west of the city, which lay about four metres below sea level. (Plate 8).

One of the major difficulties in creating a wooded area near Amsterdam was that the water-table was too close to the surface for tree plantings. Nearly 300 kilometres of drain pipes were laid emptying into a series of interconnected artificial lakes, which resulted in lowering the water-table five and a half metres below sea level. The earth recovered from excavating the lakes was used to add relief to the terrain.

SPECIAL FEATURES

‘Het BOS’ or ‘The Wood‘ as it is known today, the 700-hectare man-made forested park in Amsterdam, has a number of features planned to meet the needs of the residents of Amsterdam. Only a single motor road with a few branch roads exist in the woods. Foot, cycle and bridle-paths have been installed. Heavily planted boundaries are a characteristic feature of the Bos so that groups can be isolated from their neighbours (Plate 9). During summer people now visit the Bos

at the rate of 40,000 to 60,000 and even IOO,OOO a day. A fair proportion of visitors come by car and there are parking facilities for about 4,000 cars, including a part of the forest park intended for road-side camping. In fine weather this area resembles a village consisting of cars and tents, with a one-day permit. At day’s end these campers pack up

all their belongings and drive home, for no one is allowed to camp during the night in the Bos, except at the controlled camping site. Additional car parks will be provided to cope with the ever-growing demand for parking space. There are several interesting short-term solutions which would raise the maximum parking capatity to 5,000 or 5,500 cars.

RECENT PROJECTS

Recreational facilities of the Bos have been added, including a canoe hiring establishment and a privately owned pony centre, where children as well as adults (in a more or less equal ratio) can ride some thirty Icelandic ponies (Plate I a). A wild fowl reserve has been established.

The Bos is inhabited by an astonishing number of birds. An island with small stretches of artificial beach has been added to the reserve and shore birds have begun to breed (Pl‘ate II). A collection of some 450 indigenous herbs can be found on the island. It is not surprising, therefore, that it has become a favourite goal for school ex- cursions. During the season, an average of fifteen classes visit the island every week for tours conducted by wardens. Similar excur- sions are organized in many of Amster- dam’s major parks. In addition, co-operation with societies engaged in nature studies is encouraged by lending material aid and assistance. In the Bos, many forms of non-organized

sports and games are actively pursued. There are fields with movable goal-posts where youngsters can play improvised football games. At first the goal-posts were fixed, but it was found that the area around the goals soon became bare of grass. Since the goals were made movable this form of damage has ceased. It should be stressed that the dimensions of the fields are not in accordance with official competition rules. This is deliberate so as to prevent them from being used for competition.


As urban expansion continues between Amsterdam and the other cities nearby, the necessity of making the best use of the limited land available in this area of the Netherlands calls for long-term planning. Another recreational area of some 2,700 hectares was established between Am- sterdam and Haarlem to the west. North of Amsterdam, 700 hectares have been set aside along the coast of Ijssel lake, the former Zuider Zee. The most ambitious, however, is the

green area of Amstelland in which 4,000 hectares of former agricultural land have been set aside for recreational use, and to act as a buffer between the urban areas of Amsterdam, Amstelveen, Ouder Amstel and Diemen. It includes the superfluous polder waters of the rivers Amstel, Holen- drecht-Bullewijk, Gein and Weespertrek- vaart, Gaasp and the neighbouring mea- dows. (Plntes 1.2 a, 6). The following procedures were followed

in planning the Amstelland development.

Prepnrntov phase

An inventory of the existing landscape was made. The influence of the proposed infrastructure on the landscape was studied. The possibilities for recreation mere analysed and requirements established. The characteristics and demands of each type of recreational activity and the terrain were accordingly divided to meet these needs.

The injiience of zcrbnn developmats

The changes taking place in the infrastructure of the south-eastern part of the Am- sterdam agglomeration have influenced the landscape surrounding these urban centres. Urban high-rise construction influences low lands considerably and highways have subdivided the area into more or less equal compartments. A secondary consequence of

the plan was the expansion of the dyke system. As a buffer zone, the Amstelland green

area was given the following characteristics: no buildings; continuity in space; and an appearance as a natural area which was not strictly delimited by boundaries.

New landscapes

The Amstelland green area was incorporated in the finished structure and the following changes resulted: (a) the landscape/highway zone (VI) was multiplied and much of the area restricted to recreational use (joo hectares); (b) the border zone required careful handling. Maximum contrast was given between the buildings and the landscape although direct relations between them were maintained; (c) in some areas the border zone was already so strongly subdivided that nothing was left of the original landscape; (d) some parts are clearly isolated by subdivisions which was compensated for by traffic structure, although this was not always possible.

Rrqujrt.ments for the vnriozis kinds of d&<ht i-ecrpntioti nrens

Analyses were carried out on the soil and sites so as to fit in as many different kinds of recreational activities as possible. It must not be forgotten that many city

parks have historic associations and offer the residents within walking distance an area for recreation and social contacts. Studies carried out in Amsterdam

revealed some interesting facts. Surveys were carried out in some of the neighbour- hoods where parks are located. In one sampling about 1,100 addresses were visited. Irrespective of the standard of living it mas found that 60 to 70 per cent made use of the park; of these, half visit the park once or several times a week. The 3 0 or 40 per cent who rarely or never visited the park usually had strong reasons such as

F. G. Breman

&’Late IO

‘Het Bos’ of Amsterdam. Pony rides in the ‘man-made’ woods.


Plate II Marsh plants and reeds have been allowed to grow, encouraging the breeding of shore birds . . . fishing and boating activities flourish. . . . (Photo : Amsterdam Department of Public Works.)

F. G. Breman


Plate 12 q (a) Amstelland : aerial view of the meandering

Amstel River and the surrounding polder land.

(Photo : Ronde Hoep.)

(b) Typical landscape in Amstelland, a view of the 't Gein River.

F. G. Breman

40

being invalids, or being very old. Only a small percentage expressed no interest at all. In view of the strong interest shown in the parks the authorities concerned should be kept permanently aware of the needs of the people they are meant to serve and should provide the facilities they require. In addition to studies carried out on the

users of parks within the city, a study was made of the users of the Bos. It appeared that 71 per cent of the visitors stayed in the immediate neighbourhood of their automobile, often spreading a tent that they had brought along. The others walked around at an average distance not exceeding 2.8 kilometres. Although these figures are valid for one specific area only, they are a good indication of the use made of parks similarly located. The figures vary widely according to the types of user, depending on the location of the green space, the status of the user and the climate, but are extremely valuable to the designer who wishes to adapt the original plan to the changing needs of the users.

GENERAL PRINCIPLES

Landscape planning for new developments

There are areas in every city where no greenery is found. Paved streets lined with walks are flanked with buildings without any relief from the monotony of man-made structures. Fortunately, such areas are usually small and, more frequently than not, contain old warehouses and other commercial buildings raised at a time when little thought was given to the amenities of urban living. In this respect Amsterdam is fortunate.

Elm and linden trees line its canals which are at times bordered with stretches of green lawn and flower beds. As in all growing cities, Amsterdam has been obliged to build outlying residential areas. In some cases, existing woods have been used so that the inhabitants can have green space

with mature trees readily at hand, but more often than not, construction has taken place in former fields where trees and shrubs are lacking. In the latter case, every effort should be made to promote the quick development of trees and shrubs to create a healthy environment.

Principles governing tree plantings Planting big trees may seem simple and can, in practice, be done in small areas or along lanes but, besides being expensive, the results are often disappointing because growth develops satisfactorily only after a considerable period of time. Planting young stock densely in well-prepared and properly drained soil usually leads to quick growth and after an initial five years the results are quite satisfactory. A leading factor in linking green areas to

provide harmonious setting for buildings is the careful balance between horizontal lines, mostly provided by lawn, and the vertical features constituted by trees. A surface no larger than a football field may assume a very pleasant proportion if surrounded by trees some twenty or twenty- five metres high, but would look dull if framed by shrubs or small trees of only two to three metres in height. This well-known rule can be applied equally well to large areas by dividing them into smaller surfaces as a preliminary step for future development. The division into smaller areas should be made in such a way that the best possible balance between horizontal surfaces and the surrounding vertical plantations can be achieved rapidly. Another way of obtaining quick results is

to plant rapid-growing trees like poplars or eucalypti, as ‘pioneer’ plantings, which can later be removed when the final plantings reach the desired height.


Trees along streets

Trees planted along streets also enhance the appearance of cities. A border of well- grown and healthy trees softens the somewhat artificial aspect of modern architecture, underlying their best features or con- stituting a cache-misire if the buildings are poor in line and finish. This was indeed the reason for planting trees along lanes and streets in the past. In recent years, however, it has become obvious that in urban envi- ronments trees are indispensable for other than aesthetic reasons. Though the role of trees in cities has been the object of many leading studies and competent authors have written on this topic, much remains to be learned. It is said that trees constitute a filter,

reducing the effects of pollution. Their foliage has the capacity to retain a certain quantity of solid or liquid particles which are washed off by the heavy rains and drop on the soil. Trees also have the capacity to absorb certain gases in varying concentrations and through the air-stream which results from the structure of the plantation, clouds of gas can be dispersed and their concentration reduced. However, certain gases damage the plantations themselves, sometimes to the point of final destruction. In the Netherlands, among the trees that have proved resistant to sulphur dioxide are Arer platanoides, Fraxinus excelsior and Tilia ezlropea. As far as noise is concerned, trees do not

seem to offer much defence against this nuisance in the city but, as speed reducers and shelters, their influence on winds and air movements is unquestionable. Trees of good size and age, growing closely together, either in line or as a group in a square, constitute valid wind-breaks. Large trees can be transplanted from

nurseries, but practice shows that it is rewarding to start planting trees on the spot, along roads and streets, at half the distance normally wanted between full

grown trees. When planting lime trees, for example, the normal interval between them should be ten to twelve metres, but young trees should be planted at a distance of five to six metres only, thus providing a pleasant landscape as well as a healthy screen for five or six years to come. At a later stage, the trees are thinned out by cutting down one tree out of two.

Aerialphotograph_y as n tool h nzainfainitlg green areas

This chapter would not be complete without some mention of the protection and maintenance of trees. Detailed yearly or biennial inspection of trees along the streets to determine their health is standard practice. Examinations are time- and labour- consuming but absolutely necessary, for local authorities can run into trouble when falling trees or branches cause accidents (physical injury or property damage). The latest technique for examining trees

(and plantations in general) uses near infra- red photography by air. This new control system, originally developed for military purposes, enables administrators of green areas to control the health of all of their trees. Its most valuable asset is that, not only trees which visibly do not look well, but also trees which look fine but are already diseased can be detected on the so- called false-colour infra-red film. More details of this new way of tree-control are to be found in the following Chapter 3 and in Appendix I.

Maintenance

As any city administration is aware, while green space is a premium and highly desirable, its planning alone is not enough. The environment of a modern city is not condu- cive to the growing of plants and trees. The large amount of paved surfaces, the highly polluted atmosphere, the shaded areas owing to buildings and other constructions,

F. G. Breman

42

the quick runoff of rain water owing to the presence of storm drains, all handicap plant growth. Maintenance is a perennial problem and

one which seems to increase in terms of cost and complexity. Expanding urban populations, new needs and desires have placed increasing pressures on the resources of cities. During the middle I ~ O S , rapid infla- tion and fluctuating values of exchange rates of currencies which influence costs are contributing to the over-all problems of the budget. Obviously, costs vary widely with geographic, climatic, social and economic conditions. Only basic principles can be set forth when considering the financial aspects of administering urban green areas. Three different, closely related points are probably valid for all situations: (a) the design and the final work plans; (b) the project, divided into new works and maintenance works; (c) the financial control and administration, including secretariat, personnel matters and contacts with the public and the press.

Finance and design. The economic implications of the project should have been duly studied before the design is approved. The final detailed budget can only be worked out by careful investigation of the working drawings based on the design plans. Estab- lishing a budget is difficult, but obtaining the funds required from the responsible authorities may require considerable skill on the part of the director. Once the deci- sion has been taken to appropriate funds, the budget can still surprise the authorities concerned and discussions are likely to lead towards a reduction of costs by simplifying the original plans. One of the difficulties that have to be overcome at this stage results from the fact that once funds have been granted to prepare a project, annual appropriations for maintenance are required. The responsible administration should have calculated very carefully the requirements for maintenance based on the

proposed design and should report this information to the authorities in charge of the financial aspects of the project. Such costs may have a decisive influence on the choice of an appropriate design.

New projects and maintenance. Carrying out landscape planning projects normally requires considerable labour, especially as maintenance is involved and, as in many countries the cost of labour is rising rapidly, it appears increasingly important to adopt measures tending to reduce the use of labour to the lowest possible degree. This applies primarily to countries where labour is expensive, but even in those where labour costs are low, the general trend is towards higher salaries, which cannot fail to affect long-term maintenance.

Measures to reduce labour (see Fig. I).

MechaniTation. The use of adequate machinery reduces the need for manual labour and the progress made in the last few years has resulted in equipment which can meet practically every need.

Subdivision of the budget. One of the essential tasks of good management is to stimulate the staff, from higher officers to the lowest ranks, to assume economical and financial responsibility. One way of achieving this is to delegate a share of responsibility in the execution of work. The total budget can be subdivided and parts of it reserved for small groups in charge of certain parts of the project. Though general control remains in the hands of the financial head of department, these groups can be given some autonomy and the budget appropriated can be spent as they deem best within fixed limits. Experience has shown that semi- autonomy and shared responsibility yield excellent results and also introduces an element of competition among the groups. In subdividing the maintenance budget

in a city park’s administration, the sec-


500

FIG. I. Decrease in man-hours of labour called for in the maintenance of parks within the city of Amsterdam (average number of man-hours per hectare). Factors contributing to reducing the number of man- hours required: in 1948, mechanization mas introduced; in 1930, budget controls were introduced; in 1955, some of the work was contracted out to specialized firms; in 1959, chemicals were introduced. tions are classified according to the surface and the quality of the green spaces. They may range from the most expensive luxury type, where flower beds require intensive labour and high maintenance costs, down to vast areas of forest parks where maintenance is reduced to a minimum. According to the surface of each area, and the estimated maintenance cost per square metre, each head of section is responsible for his group’s activity within the limit of funds made available for his annual budget.

ContractJ. The performance of work at a fixed price offers the advantage of reducing the number of hours of labour, even though the cost is usually not reduced.

Using contractors satisfactorily is an intricate process, requiring highly trained officers to control the quality of the work. The results are quite rewarding. Standards should be set at the highest level, but once these have been accepted the works should run smoothly.

U s e of chemicals. Technical knowledge has developed tremendously in this field, but it is essential that the use of chemicals be permanently and severely controlled. New processes, involving the application of plant hormones, weed killers and pesticides, are sold through intensive adver- tising and their use has spread rapidly because, from a financial standpoint, they achieve excellent results for the growers. 43

F. G. Breman

However, danger signals have been flashed as the use of many of these products threatens natural ecological balance. The use of such chemicals is so widespread that measures can only be taken to restrict their use under permanent strict control. Environmental pollution resulting from irresponsible and careless use of such products and their far-reaching effects, have become a leading concern for governments and international organizations all over the world.

Financial' control' and administration. To illustrate the possibilities of reducing labour, it may be useful to provide practical examples. Figure I shows the influence of the four categories mentioned above revealing how many working hours are necessary for the maintenance of an average-sized green area in a city's park department (Amster- dam-quote by Breman, 1970). The maintenance of large spaces, like forest parks and reserves, has not been taken into consideration. It appears that, although the number of working hours was reduced, the quality of the labour was raised as the number of unskilled labourers was reduced through the use of adequate equipment. Skilled labour remains indispensable and, therefore, good training centres should be created and facilities offered to young workers to attend them. Provided these basic principles in subdi-

viding the budget have been adopted, the introduction of a computer system becomes desirable. It provides the administration with concrete and up-to-date information on all the financial elements of the administration at a given moment. Such comput- erized information can be used to exercise tighter control of the budget and to obtain better results with the same investment.

Cost factors may differ widely; for example, countries in warmer zones have to maintain parks in their cities throughout the year whereas in the temperate zones care is needed only during the growing season. Visitors' use of parks varies according to geographical location, climate and the living standard of the population. Cities where formal flower gardens are highly ap- preciated and traditionally maintained have to reckon on much higher maintenance costs, amounting up to 4,900 man-hours per hectare per year, which means as much as two men per hectare. Cities enjoying the woodland-forest type parks, with few sports or other man-made activity facilities, may drop their labour requirements down to IOO man-hours per hectare per year, thus achieving maintenance at a rate of IO hectares per man. These figures result from an inquiry carried out in thirty towns with parks of different sizes. Hence the chart used reflects only average conditions and not all of the factors involved. It is only meant to illustrate the influence of adequate management in a given city. In other cities, where local circumstances are totally different, maintenance costs resulting from the quantity of labour required would be different even though the general trends would be similar to those shown in Figure I. H o w much a city pays for maintenance of its public green areas, compared with the total amount of expenditure for the maintenance of all public works, is difficult to assess. But to give an example, in Amsterdam 1.25 per cent of the total amount of municipal expenditure is used for the maintenance of green areas. The budget also includes public security,, housing and building, education, social welfare, public health, public works, etc. and ex- cludes services such as gas, electricity and waterworks.

44

A. Hoekstra

The urban landscape and the care of trees

The largest living things on earth are probably the giant sequoia of California in the United States and the oldest the bristle cone pine. Many species have been closely associated with man, furnishing fruits, nuts, lumber and raw material for industry. In urban centres they help to temper the local microclimate by furnishing shade and cool- ness in warm seasons and during winter in the temperate zone help to break up the force of winds while evergreens provide year-round shelter. A large city may have miles of trees

planted along boulevards, in parks ranging from little squares to areas numbering scores of hectares and, quite frequently, in wooded zones on the outskirts of the city. The urban environment is not a healthy one for trees-though there are resistant species-and many fid victim to disease and infestation in their weakened state. In the past, individual visual inspection was required to check upon the condition of each tree, but with the shortage of skilled labour and rising costs new techniques are being developed to ensure continued care and, if need be, rapid replacement of dying trees. Various military uses of the possibilities

afforded by infra-red and ultraviolet photography have been adopted for civilian use, including aerial examination of trees and shrubs.

SEEING THE INVISIBLE

Man’s perceptive faculties are limited compared to those of animals and birds. Dogs can hear sounds inaudible to the human ear. Birds of prey can see small animals from very high altitudes and nocturnal prowlers can find their prey in the dark. The light visible to the human eye is only

a small fraction of the total light that can be perceived with specialized equipment. Visible light has wavelengths ranging from 0.4 to 0.78 microns. O n either side, invisible light has a wide range of variations. The ultraviolet range (0.38 microns) is subdivided into near, intermediate and so on, but only the near ultraviolet is used for the photography of plants. The infra-red range (0.78 to 1,000

microns) is also subdivided into near, intermediate and far infra-red. The total range which can be recorded through photography is thus much wider than that of visible light.

THREE OBSERVATION SYSTEMS

Three remote sensing and detection systems are in current use to check on vegetation growth. They are: (a) Infra-red light sensing (IRLS). This system is used for register- ing infra-red and heat rays. Infra-red aerial photography is the least expensive to use; (b) Side-looking airborne radar (SLAR) Radar is used to detect things such as oil pollution or plagues of locust and to check

3

45

A. Hoekstra

46

the extent of grazing on pasture lands; and (c) Multi-spectral sensing (MSS). This system is used, for example, in detecting disease in certain food crops and in forecasting yields; it is, however, very expensive.

Infra-red light sensing (IRLS) Infra-red aerial photography has been used to estimate salmon populations in Alaska. It is also used to estimate various types of vegetation. Each plant has its own temperature range. It was found in Scandinavia, for example, that in frosty weather at 1 5 "C certain herbs and midget shrubs have temperature reflections of 25 "C to 20 "C; an ant-heap gave a reflection of nearly 70 "C. But the temperature of a plant can vary:

that of a less healthy plant may be as much as j "C above that of a healthy plant of the same species; the plant, so to speak, has fever. But this also occurs in healthy plants. The Victoria regia, a gigantic Amazon water lily, with leaves measuring z metres, has a temperature as much as IO "C above the ambient during its flowering period. By observing differences in temperature

it is possible to trace diseased or badly growing plants. In cities, buildings, road surfaces and vehicles radiate heat and this factor has to be taken into account before conclusions are drawn regarding the health of trees or plants. Thermic infra-red survey- ing is thus best suited for woods or open country. For example, it can be used to trace water seepage which, occurring in lower levels, differs considerably in temperature from surface water. The survey should preferably be made at night, when the picture shows the higher temperatures as almost white and the lower temperatures in black. Although taken on film, the picture is not a photograph. Using a rotating mirror and other equipment, the differences in temperature are translated by means of a detector into light signals which are regis- tered on the film. As in television, the picture obtained consists of luminous lines.

The degree of resolution depends on the equipment and the altitude. In the case of the seepage water mentioned above, the colour differences allow the location and size to be determined exactly. Near infra-red resembles visible light, is

not thermic and is very effective for photo- graphing vegetation in a city. Plants use large quantities of light in

photosynthesis, conversion of the albumen and in producing oxygen (as a by-product). Very little is 'reflected' by the plant. By far the major proportion of the light is ab- sorbed for photosynthesis by the chlorophyll, the 'live green' of the leaves; some 80 per cent of the light is reflected in the inter-cellular spaces of the mesophyll, in the cavity of the leaf. The degree of reflection depends upon the species, the structure of the leaf and the vitality, i.e., the growing power of the plant. For example, the cactus has a thick, spongy leaf with hairs, and gives a quite different reflection from that of broad-leaf or deciduous trees; these, in turn, differ in leaf structure from conifers, whose maximum reflection is 3 0 to 40 per cent.

Side-looking airborne radar ( S L A R )

In air and sea navigation, rays of a certain wavelength are radiated by radar from a transmitter. The 'echoes' reflected by aircraft and shipping appear as luminous spots on the radar screen. In SLAR, the rays are radiated at an

angle of 45" and the echo picture is recorded on a moving film. Cultivated and non- cultivated soils and different species of plants have clearly differentiated pictures. It was easy, for example, in photographs taken in the Netherlands, to distinguish between potatoes and corn. A change in crops in a vast area can be seen by simply putting two consecutive photographs side by side. An exceptionally good reflection is. obtained when the length of a body corre- sponds to the wavelength of the radar. This


knowledge is used in Arabia to locate locust pests. Before these can take wing and disperse, they can be located by radar and annihilated by concentrated attacks with insecticides. Again, photographs taken from very high altitudes in the Netherlands showed bright spots which located, with an accuracy of about IO millimetres, the place where fishermen had pinned down their nets with poles; the diameter of the poles (40 to 10 millimetres) corresponded to the wavelength used. Oil on waves has a distinctive echo pic-

ture or reflection. Accordingly, SLAR can be used to trace oil pollution of the sea-even when tankers are discharging oil by night.

iMzllti-spectral sensirg ( MSS) For each specific purpose, the wavelength used is minutely calibrated. By using several sensors in conjunction with a computer, several wavelengths, i.e. sections of the spectrum, can be covered at the same time. This is called ‘multi-spectral sensing’. The light reflected by each plant is uni-

Wavelength (microns)

FIG. 2. Differences in the reflection of leaves of four agricultural plants. The high peak after 0.7 microns is due to infra-red reflections.

que; by adjusting the detectors to its wavelength, the image can be detected and, accordingly, MSS can make automatic inventories of plants. Some thirteen points can be determined in the visible and invisible sections of the spectrum (Fig. 2). With the aid of sensors, the size of crops

and diseased foci can be traced from satel- lites and appropriate protective measures can be taken. A major advantage of this kind of automatic inventory is that it is not necessary to take a lot of pictures. As the sorting has already taken place, M S S merely records what it is asked for. It can also be used to detect air pollution. The scanner can determine, for example, with considerable accuracy-, the number of molecules of fluorine and thus the extent of the pollution which is taking place. The system unfortunately is very expen-

sive; but then, its cost must be reckoned against the damage caused to an ever- increasing extent by environmental pollution.

PRACTICAL APPLICATION

Each year, the older trees in Amsterdam are examined one by one. The less healthy trees are given an extra examination between two check-ups, but it is only the visible or obvious faults that are detected. When, for instance, a tree has ‘hollow’ leaves as a result of leaks from gas mains, many of the roots would be already dead and it is difficult to cure the tree at that stage. Hence the desirability of detecting damage while the roots are still healthy. The infra-red reaction test of a tree or

plant is rather like a blood test made by a doctor. The difference in colour in a photograph may indicate what is wrong with the tree and tree No. 87, for example, can be checked while tree No. 86 is left over to the next year. When a tree for whatever reason

becomes weaker, the reflected quality of the light changes; there is a decrease in the 47

A. Hoekstra

48

Plate zj (b) Close-up of aerial view (infra-red F photograph) showing the condition of the trees in the city of Amsterdam.

(a) Aerial photograph (infra-red) of the city of Amsterdam. The darker-coloured trees are in better condition than the light-coloured ones found along the canals.

Works.) (Photo : Amsterdan Department of Public

T h e urban landscape and the care of trees

49

A. Hoekstra

(green) chlorophyll and an increase in the yellow and orange pigments in the cells. Before this change can be seen in visible light, a change occurs in the infra-red radiation which decreases and is visible or mea- surable on film. Like ordinary colour film, infra-red film

consists of three layers. In the development, however, the colours shift; infra-red becomes red, red becomes green, and green becomes blue, the blue light being filtered out. Thus the photograph has colours which do not correspond to the visible light range. This is why the film is called ‘camouflage’, or ‘false colour’ film. In the developed picture, a healthy green tree is shown bright red. If the tree is in poor condition the radiation diminishes ; the colour becomes darker but remains red (Plate 13 a, b).

FLIGHT PREPARATIONS

Before making a vertical infra-red survey it is essential to define the area clearly on a topographical map on a scale of I : 5,000 or I: 10,000. The scale should be indicated and, if necessary, the direction of the flight. Half-grown trees appear quite well on a scale of I : j,ooo; young trees need I : Z,J 00. Normally, flight altitudes of 760 metres and 280 metres correspond respectively to scales of I : 5,000 and I : 2,500. A certain amount of overlapping may be necessary in the photographs.

COSTS

The usual fee for taking aerial photographs is divided into two parts: (a) flight to the aerea to be scanned; (b) charge per photo/kilometre. The cost of the flight to the area to be

scanned is a fixed amount because it is not the actual flying time which is expensive, but the flight preparations and the danger that the flight may be interrupted because of traffic or weather conditions.

The price is based on one stereo-flown photograph and one black and white print. The photographs are taken with a 60 per cent overlap in the direction of the flight. As a result, any deviation in a tree shown in a slide can be gauged with the aid of a stereoscope and a source of light. In many cases, it is the top of a tree which shows the first symptom of decay and this would not be visible from the ground. However, the stereoscope will show whether the crown of the tree or its upper branches are affected. Movements of the aircraft in relation to

the horizontal plane are corrected as soon as possible but cannot be avoided altogeth- er. The result is that photographs are less reliable at the edges than in the middle. Hence, there must be ample overlapping : 25 per cent for scale I: j,ooo, 3 0 per cent for scale I : 2,joo. The flight plan indicates the runs to be

made (with an L for low and H for high altitude flights), the number of photographs to be taken and the cost. The photographs of the strips flown are

marked on the map of the city, and all the overlaps are noted. In each case the final rectangle is given the number of the photograph. It then becomes clear which photograph gives the best picture of a given street. The photos are then marked on the sheets of the city map on a scale I : 2,500. Individual trees can be located in relation to house numbers; any trees which show colours that deviate are circled for subsequent examination.

READING THE PICTURE

The colour deviation may be due to the specific reflection of the tree or plant, or may be caused by its relative vitality. There can be wide differences in specific

reflections. Healthy grass has a very high reflection value; broad-leafed trees have a much stronger reflection value than conifers. A yellow Liriodendron leaf has much


Plate 13 Note the road running from north to south in the centre of the photograph. The trees on the right-hand side have light-coloured foliage as the water-table is too high. T o the left, the trees are much healthier.

A. Hoekstra

stronger reflection in the visible spectrum than a green leaf, but the opposite is true (although to a lesser extent) in the infra-red spectrum. Again, for a given species, the picture may vary during the growing season. Normally, only one species of tree is

planted along a particular street. In Amster- dam, it is noticeable that trees in enclosed gardens are better (darker) than along the canals-because less affected by paved roads, traffic, brine, gas, cables and pipe-lines. This difference is also clearly visible in

the black and white pictures. Trees are also affected if the water table is too high (cf. the light-coloured trees to the right of the road- way running north-south); the other trees of the same species on the left-hand side of the road are in much better shape (Plate 14). A light colour can also indicate a nutrition deficiency. The results of manuring can also be clearly inferred from the photographs.

Light colours in the photographs indicate a decrease in leaf green and vitality, e.g., difficulties of nutrition, inadequate breathing, high water tables (which also cause difficulties in breathing); if the deviation is widespread this may indicate gas leaks. A dark colour might also indicate dam-

age by gas leaks, but it could also mean that the trees are old. Confirmation can be obtained only by

examination on the spot: a pathological examination, measurements of methane, carbon dioxide, oxygen, depth of water, and so on. The great advantage of scanning from the air is that damage is found before there is any visible decline; it is thus a health service in the widest sense of the word, and the best way of ensuring the survival of that rarity-a healthy city tree.

Peter White

Utilitarian construction in the man-made landscape-waterways

INTRODUCTION

A great deal of construction is carried out to meet utilitarian goals. Technological and historical evolution and other changes may cause such structures to become obsolete. Walled cities, for example, after the introduction of gunpowder, soon found that their fortifications were useless, and many city walls were demolished. Salvage material, such as cut stones, was used for other needs, such as pavement blocks or to build a house near by. These changes are inevitable but as the type of obsolete construction becomes rare its historical importance increases proportionately so that the surviving examples become clarified a: monuments and measures are taken to preserve them. For example, the remnants of the ‘limes’,

the line of fortifications built during the later Roman empire against barbarian inva- sion in England and on the continent are now protected as historic monuments. As functional water-powered old mills and wind-powered mills have become rare, the surviving examples are protected. Some may still be used to manufacture flour for sale to those who wish to sample old-style stone-ground flour or who believe that such products are healthier than those milled by contemporary machinery, others may be preserved with their machinery missing. There is then a period before such an

object becomes rare, when obsolescence can

condemn it to destruction and oblivion. While, for example, the traces of a Roman fortification are preserved as a monument, today other examples of utilitarian construction in the transitional stage can survive only if alternative uses are found. Thus, for example, with the invention of locks in the late seventeenth century barge canals were an important means of transportation. Their use spread quickly as they provided a far more efficient means of transportation of goods and passengers than the miserable rut-filled roads of the day. Their importance declined rapidly after the mid-nineteenth century due to the introduction of railways. A few survived as they were widened and deepened to handle motorized barges and tows. Many more fell into desuetude, their locks dilapidated, the canals filled with silt and reedy growths, with sections refilled so that only a few traces of their former existence remain. Others, as the labour required was too great to justify their being filled in and machinery dismantled, survived as weed- choked waterways in which small boys fished or frogs were hunted. Today, in reaction to the hurried means

of transportation and the frenetic pace followed in many resorts, many canals are being restored for leisure-time recreation and travel. The British experience, which is being repeated in parts of the United States and in Europe, is one example of the preservation of the historic, industrial landscape.

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‘There’s more in canals than appears on the surface.’ Perhaps one of Neville Cham- berlain’s less well-known remarks, but clearly a truism of almost paradoxical pro- portions. Our waterways are complex, yet also, vulnerable and delicate; extensive and relatively unknown. If ever there was an unrealized urban

asset then our waterways must posture pro- minently as the most unexplored and under-rated resource. One that is often hidden, neglected, ignored, abused, derelict and, in Britain, until quite recent times in decline. What future do they possess? What contribution can the waterways make to urban life? Where do they go to? Where have they come from?

NATURAL RIVERS A N D NAVIGATION

To avoid uncleared forests, difficult terrain and often hostile areas, the natural river highways were, from earliest times, a key to the pattern of settlement in Western Eu- rope. If they ran quickly enough and were deep and wide, craft could use the motion of the winds and sail, be sometimes poled along, and, occasionally, when the nature of the bank allowed, be towed by a horse against the current. Rivers were made by their ‘navigability’,

into waterways; and yet most rivers varied greatly in depth as did the speed of the current. In wet seasons they would run fast, but in hot dry weather there were often only a few inches of water over the gravel shoals. To regularize the waterway, weirs were

often built and the water level raised to lift boats over these shallow parts. The current was reduced-and the gradual incline of the river’s bed replaced by a series of ‘steps’ or changes in level-where the boat had to be lowered from the higher level to the next. A ‘lock’ solved this problem and, of course, the ‘head‘ of water at such points was also used as power to refine food (e.g. corn mills), and to make tools (e.g. trip-hammer

spade mills), etc. So rivers became ‘waterways’ in a reliable sense (Plate rj) .

CANALS AND TOWING PATHS

The other reliable resource was that four- legged extension of man’s physical capabili- ties-the horse. Having been harnessed and persuaded to drag and haul heavy loads, his performance varied greatly in differing circumstances. Perhaps more than any other factor the

‘return’ or ‘pay off’ set against this four- legged ‘input’ was responsible for the existence of extensive urban waterways where they have no right to be (i.e. far from river navigations and at great altitudes above the natural watersheds). The following ‘formula’ goes a long way

to explain this-

If, at a given speed and over a given distance, you ask a horse to haul a load in a road wagon-then he could manage, say, I ton; if the load is put in a wagon on rails, then he could manage something like, say, 3 tons. But if you ask our long-suffering friend to haul the load in a boat, then he could manage, say, 27 tons!

This was the motivation, the incentive, that led man to conceive the incredible. Effort and investment were enormous to link artificially natural rivers by canals or ‘cuts’. By using the lock, cuttings, embankments, tun- nels and aqueducts, great spectacular engineering devices allowed navigable waterways to serve growing manufacturing settlements, connecting with mineral resources and trade and coastal outlets.

VALUES AND ATTRIBUTES

During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries many great watersheds were connected across topographically hostile terrain, and at altitudes where navigable water does not naturally belong. The result of all of this activity is that most notable urban


Plate Ij Even today rivers and canals are an important transportation network, particularly for bulk freight. A tow boat making its way along the Severn River at Worcester (United Kingdom). (Photo : Derek Pratt, London )

Peter White

Plate 16 All too frequently the charm of the landscape is marred by careless dumping of garbage and wastes . . . prospect of the Avon River at Stratford. (Photo : Herald Photographic Service, Stratford-upon-Avon.)


settlements in the United Kingdom possess and are ‘served‘ by water in the form of a river or canal. The ‘presence’ of water is more fun-

damental of course than the support of navigation. In the form of springs and wells, water often explains human settlement at one site whereas, at another, the proximity of a ford or the value of water’s defensive attributes are significant loca- tional factors. Whatever the reason, wherever the need-certain of our basic requirements must be met. In many places, and like features of great

value, our waterways are taken for granted not really out of ignorance, but quite often because of being ‘right under our noses’-so much a part of everyday life that it takes a threat or a natural disaster to make us aware of their special ‘niche’ in the pattern of things. When the river weir burst at Stratford-

upon-Avon, citizens awoke to find the Bard’s inspiration reduced to a muddy trickle. Not only a visual devalua- tion!-boats could not glide, swans could only sit, and the waterside walks began to stimulate other senses-it was snzelb ! (Plate r 6,) In urban Manchester, the proposed elimi-

nation of the Ashton Canal-born out of its dereliction and compounded by attendant hazards to health and safety, effected an evaluation of the waterway which produced a comprehensive appraisal of its value to the community. The navigation authority (The British

Waterways Board) and the local authority interests found that there were three possible future treatments : (a) an elimination of the canal and towing path-with culverts introduced for land drainage and water supply; (b) an open water channel six to nine inches deep, serving as an open culvert for basic services with an adjoining landscaped walk-harldy a waterway; (c) a full restoration of both channel and locks-the towing path being restored and landscaped and

basic functions of land drainage/water supply retained. For once ‘economics’ acted in the envi-

ronmental interest and solution (a) proved impossibly expensive! Solution (b) had at- tractions but fell short of a full recreational usefulness (i.e. boatinglnavigation, fishing, etc.) Solution (c) was adopted! Because the British Waterways Board had

to fulfil its statutory obligations consistent with the needs of public health and safety, this meant that a basic contribution to the final restoration solution was met by the Board, leaving a ‘balance’ which was jointly met by the local authorities through whose areas the waterway ran. A solution born out of the 1968 Trans-

port Act, it was an answer, too, that made the best of a situation symptomatic of the British Waterways Board’s position since I 962-an alarming impoverishment-that is, at best, ‘holding a situation’-many of their waterways having been inherited from half a century of almost total railway-dominated neglect. It has been estimated that dizo million is

necessary to ensure a decently operational waterway system, consistent with the requirements of commerce and leisure- leimre-a new industry has come to the waterways !

W A T E R W A Y T O W N S

Waterways at their outset were hardly urban. In the same way that the railways arrive in towns somewhat ‘off centre’, at the then fringe of the urban areas, so had the canals, more than a half century before, penetrated to the then ‘edge’ of the street and road pattern and were actually built through fields and small-holdings (Fig. 3). The canal’s great value in easily convey-

ing, say, heavy bulk fuel and mineral resources, led to these regions quickly transforming themselves to become the em- bryo ‘black countries’ or ‘Ruhrs’ that w e know today. 17

Peter White

FIG. 3. Hanson’s map of the city of Birmingham in 1781, illustrating the penetration of canals into the city areas.


O n the river frontages of great towns, often originating from Roman camp sites, there developed a great transportation and distribution industry which, because of its need for wharves, warehouses, basins, cranes, vards and offices, rendered ‘private’ or ‘exclusive’ large frontages of urban waterway. A look at Bewdley on the River Severn is

of value because of its almost fossilized fabric. The town was rendered obsolete almost overnight by the connection with the River Severn of the Staffordshire and \Yorcestershire Canal-lower down the river at Stourport-a new town (in canal terms like Crewe or Swindon are to the railways), on-ing its origin to the structure of the transport undertaking. Before the canal came, the river at Bewd-

ley was closest to the shallow coal deposits of West Midlands and so great pack-horse trains connected with the arrival, bv river, of iron from Shropshire and goods and commerce from Bristol. Thc merchants’ houses, public houses (to

contain the ‘bow hauliers’ !) warehouses, and stables--all are evidence of this activ- ty. But the canal could offer more and so, around the locks and basins at Stourport, grew an eighteenth-century Georgian town of great wealth and interest. Much of this quality has comc to be valued in terms of buildings of architectura1:historical interest, whole areas embracing the wharves and basins being designated as a conservation area under the Civic Amenities Act (Phte 17). This has led to a comprehensive face-lift operation being undertaken by the British Waterways Board, which owns most of the buildings, and it is co-ordinated with a landscape contribution being provided by the Worcestershire County Council. Added to this will be a recreational availability to the public at large covered by an Access Agreement. Contrasted with these modest visual im-

provements are those opportunities in central areas where the original basins and

wharves have been swallowed up by major urban expansion and yet are, relatively speaking, centrally prominent. In the City of Birmingham, certain arms and basins, prior to 1967, had been filled in, and the remnants of a branch canal at Newhall, originally built by James Brindley in 1769, was a derelict, filthy liability (E’/& 18). Being close to central area redevelopment had made it impossible for the waterway not to be considered in the scheme of things. During 1967-69, the City of Birmingham

Architects Department designed an overall scheme which depended for its success on the co-operation of the British X’ateraal;s Board. This was immediately forthcoming, and so basins were dredged, moorings introduced, towing paths resurfaced, bridges and lock equipment painted, new toilets and boating facilities installed, while the lock-keeper’s cottage was given 3 fixe-lift (Plate 19 a). The City of Birmingham built a Students

Hall of Residence, waterside housing, a public walkway (opened in 1969-200 years after the opening of the canal-as ‘James Brindley Walk’) ; restored canal-side cottages-including a canal shop-run by the British Waterways Board as an information centre. To complete the scheme, a new public house ‘The Longboat’ was built, by Ansells Brewery Ltd (Plrrtc 19 0). The project was and still is the major

urban canal-side example, in the United Kingdom, of possible co-operation between the navigation authority and local interests. In London and other great ports, the

opportunities are not only more obvious but also more extensive-Bristol, Liverpool and London itself possess in their obsolete harbours and docks, great man-made assets that would be impossibly expensive to create if they did not exist. By conserving the best of this infrastructure, the best of surrounding warehouses and buildings, and by inserting new uses, a reflection of the fascinating commercial origins can be retained. Because of their original value to 59

Peter White

PZate 17 Waterways for leisure . . . conversion of the Stour Port Basin warehouse into the headquarters of the yacht club. (Photo : Leslie Bryce, London,)


Plate 18 The City of Birmingham, the Newhall branch, dilapidated and filthy. Many other basins and branches had been filled in, but it was decided to make use of the facilities instead of condemning it. (Photo : Architect’s Department, Birmingham.)

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Peter White

Plate 19 (a) The Newhall branch. Note the plantings in

the right foreground, and the picnic grounds. The locks leading from the basin to the canal have been restored to functional order, and the James Brindley’s Walk is now a pleasant promenade. In the upper left, fronting the basin is the ‘Longboat’, a public house.

(Pboto : British Waterways Board by Derek Pratt, London.)

6 2


(b) Newhall branch after renovation, a major urban canal-side example of a co-operative effort between the navigation authority and local interests.

Birmingham.) (Photo : City Architect’s Department,

Peter White


Plate z I Another use of old canal systems. Storm water discharge from the elevated highway above the canal. (Photo : Derek Pratt, London.)

4 Plate 20 A thermal power station located along a canal pays rental for the use of water for cooling purposes and, at the same time, the warmed water has stimulated the growth of fish. (Photo : Derek Pratt, London.)

Peter White

66

the commercial prosperity of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century life, such areas deserve a decent and worthwhile future.

REM A IN D E R WATERWAYS

Existing uses

In the United Kingdom, the 1968 Trans- port Act designated certain waterways as ‘remainder waterways’-as possessing a future that was to require further study. To carry out this analysis working parties were set up to provide an evaluation, a process which was to reveal the true nature of the urban waterways ‘function’ (which extended from fire fighting at one extreme to watering cattle at the other!) Much of this ‘function’ is generally unrecognized and certainly less than obvious.

Water cooling

To undertakings which require water as a cooling medium, where the quality is usually unimportant, a canal or river can have enormous value and can earn the British Waterways Board, for example, their major source of income. In 1972 this amounted to

Power stations, of course, are the most prominent customers (with anglers, too, finding pleasure at fish life flourishing near the warm water outfalls). Many decisions, such as that which con-

verted coal-fired power plants to fuel oil (no more water-borne coal traffic), that which replaced steam locomotives with either diesel or electric traction (a loss of 8100,ooo a year in selling water to British Rail), seriously telescoped the earning capacity of many waterways. Nevertheless it is still surprising that, regardless of their amenity potential, and often in the most derelict and forlorn surroundings, in pure accountancy terms, waterways like the Bir- mingham Canal Navigations can be in the ‘black’. (Plate 20).

8976,368.

Routes for services

Unrealized perhaps too is the value that a waterway possesses in being an uncompli- cated, though not necessarily cheaper, route through often extremely dense and complicated urban areas-an asset being recognized by statutory undertakings like the electricity and gas boards and evidenced by I 3 z kV cables and high-pressure gas mains laid in the towing path usually in a covered concrete duct. Gas, electricity, water and drainage ser-

vices of course often cross, above the canal by means of a gantry or trestle, but normally near existing road and rail bridge cross- ings.

Sugace drainage

Following the recent construction of the My and M 6 urban motorways in the Bir- mingham region, the urban canal provides for storm-water drainage runoff from the high-level carriageways-the extra water usually requiring the provision of additional weir capacity to discharge into suitable adjacent watercourses, the canal acting as a ‘buffer’ or ‘balancing’ distributor. (Plate 21). Many works and buildings adjacent to

the canal in the urban areas discharge rain- water runoff, scouring being prevented by silt-trapped drains.

URBAN TOWING PATH WALKS

Both in town and country, the special contribution of the canal and its towing path creates exciting opportunities. Hitherto the public has been denied both physical and visual access in the interest of security, privacy and the management of a commercial undertaking. Increasingly, the Brit- ish Waterways Board is developing licensed access agreements with local authorities so that the urban towing path can be utilized as a pedestrian, traffic-free, waterside


PZate 22 A walk alongside the urban waterway . . . patterns in brick and beauty in the man-made landscape. (Photo : Derek Pratt, London.)

Peter White

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walkway linking existing public open spaces in extremely dense urban areas which are often devoid of any other major open space provision. In London, during 1968, the City of

Westminster entered into an agreement with the British Waterways Board for an experimental period (since extended) to adopt a length of canal towing path for use as a waterside walk, the local authority being responsible for its supervision and management. The surface underfoot was highly developed in the form of the duct covers for electricity cabling, and other features were introduced by the City of West- minster over nearly a mile of urban canal from Lisson Grove to Primrose Hill Bridge, Regents Park, eventually linking with the London Borough of Camden’s Walk from Water’s Meeting Bridge to and beyond Hampstead Road Lock. Entrances, notice boards, fencing, seats,

litter bins and the accommodation for the patrolmen cost By,ooo while a sum of 83,000 is required annually to provide salaries and wages and other expenses. Repairs have been averaging about 8100 per an- num. No serious vandalism or accident has occurred but lifebuoys (100 yards apart) have to be continually retrieved from the water. Patrolling with bicycles, two-way radio and an inflatable boat, the wardens are highly mobile. The difficulty of safety prevailing on

those lengths of urban waterway not normally available to public access has often charged and coloured issues out of all rational proportion. The clamour for elimination following an incident often obscures the fact that, had the waterways a less segre- gated role to play, and where they were a natural extension of urban pedestrian circu- lation, then obscurity from adult supervision would diminish, and there would be less likelihood of any untoward happen- ings-a child will always squeeze through a gap in a fence and will be in difficulties if unseen and unreachable. Perhaps the

greatest danger is not the ‘presence’ of an unfenced canal or an ‘unprotected water’s edge’ but the lack of parental supervision. At constrictions on the towing path un-

der bridges or adjacent to deep lock cham- bers, a device or demarcation in the form of a simple post and rail barrier has been adopted as an adequate psychological defi- nition of the possible hazard, while wardens and toddler-proof barriers can help towards preventing unaccompanied youngsters gaining access from, say, adjacent housing areas. Fuller use and educational programmes

associated with life-saving and swimming lessons for all must be the only long-term answer, so that the urban waterway can be used and enjoyed rather than worried about.

U R B A N P L A N N I N G POSSIBILITIES

But extending beyond the ‘usability’ of the navigation and its towing path for walking/canoeing, boating, angling, sitting, etc., is the exciting appraisal of the waterway ‘corridor’ and the exploration of techniques whereby most urban activities within it can be orientated and planned to enjoy a much more pleasing aspect. So often the contribution of water can introduce a new ‘focus and sparkle’ to urban living and this occurs most effectively perhaps in the context of the work environment. Several industrialists are acknowledging

the ‘built-in’ bonus that they enjoy in possessing waterside premises, and a whole range of facilities-lunch-hour leisure spaces, waterside works canteens, landscaped gardens, etc. can be introduced, while security fences can be pulled back from a slavish adherence to the water’s edge. Most importantly, the discourage- ment of untidy tipping, unsightly storage and badly screened car parks can be insisted upon. Development control is vital because

often the British Waterways Board owns so little land other than the navigation and its


Piate 23 Scenes along the urban waterway . . . cast iron elements of the Engine Arm Aqueduct recall early industrial associations of the canal in Smethwick (United Kingdom). (Photo : Derek Pratt, London.)

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towing path-and clearly the whole quality of the waterside scene is conditioned by the contributions and interest of a myriad of adjoining owners (Plate 22). Whether planning new schools, hospitals,

housing and factory layouts or, particularly in central areas, a comprehensive scheme involving perhaps waterside shops, flats and offices-all can be structured around eighteenth- and nineteenth-century wharves and basins, often rediscovering for a town or city a ‘waterfront’ previously hidden and ignored. This privileged aspect over waterside activity can be enhanced with low-cost face-lift projects, new access arrangements and modest visual improvements obtainable immediately, and so building in the motivation towards more long-term projects and schemes which use the waterway’s presence in an imaginative manner. Prejudices, preconceptions and distorted

attitudes towards the ‘cut’, or river have allowed them, far too easily, to be on the receiving end of industrial and domestic refuse. Recreation and amenity can hardly flour-

ish in circumstances made unpleasant by objectionable odours, ugly oily scum, detergent foam and visible sewage. All waterway users are affected and they will be clearly discouraged from patronizing their local canal or river. The formation of the new Regional Water Authority bodies will inherit the existing river authority responsibilities in terms of pollution control. The passage of lockfulls of water in a

canal induces nothing like the re-oxygenat- ing flow inherent in a river and often a toxic or oily discharge can be more destructive in semi-static conditions. Notwith- standing this, many urban canals, particularly in vast urban areas like Birmingham, are cleaner than nearby ‘rivers’ (like the Rea and Tame) in the same river authority area. A confidentiality exists between a river

authority and an industrialist over the reve- lation of content and standard of outfalls, and ‘nightly accidents’ of course occur !

Legislation exists on discharges but the practicality of its implementation does not; human carelessness, often zoo yards away, at a storm water gulley in a factory yard can foul up a mile or so of an urban waterway. It will all cost money to improve but

surely a higher quality of life is worth in- vesting in. It is not difficult to see the appeal that the

waterways in towns can offer for the urban being-a special outlet and an antidote, if you like, to twentieth century pressures. This is an experience conditioned by the fabric and simplicity of an eighteenth- century utility-an engineering expediency derived from its function and yet born out of blatant commercial motivation. The attendant elegance and style is a product of local materials and techniques and straight- forward design, free from self-conscious ostentation. All around are structures designed to do a job and last, all around the ‘wear’ of horses hooves, boatmen’s boots and towing lines, simple arches in stone and brick, solid cast iron, everywhere a strength and ‘permanence’ that are in marked contrast to our own attitudes towards flexibili- ty and change (Plate 23). In this ‘strength’ it could be said lies the

urban waterway’s vulnerability-it could so easily be diluted and devalued into a linear ‘fun fair’ or a series of self-conscious civic ‘playgrounds’! This need not be so. The magic, secrecy, surprise, charm,

changes of level, glimpses, texture, enclosure, seclusion, all require a rather sophisti- cated treatment. The quiet dignity of our canals and rivers

and the contribution they make to urban life are clear and defined. In a programme aimed at encouraging a growing awareness of their value, the British Waterways Board has embarked upon a scheme for stimulat- ing interest and involvement by setting an example. The navigation authority can do a great deal in respect of normal maintenance to ensure that our canals and rivers ‘look as if they belong to someone!’


All that is needed in many cases is a coat of paint and, consequently, not only will an attractive result emerge but, in presenting an efficient well-cared-for undertaking, many of the pressures of vandalism and abuse will be avoided. Amazingly, a particular flight of locks,

somewhat difficult to operate, was responsible for a whole string of complaints. The area engineer responsible made a major effort to tidy up the scene and paint the locks and equipment. Although the locks were no less demanding physically, the complaints were minimized-the flight locked better! and so it was. Almost as critical as what is introduced

to the urban waterway scene, is the how, or the manner in which it is to be achieved. As a ‘visual aid’ in these commonly recurring problems (and opportunities) the British Waterways Board has produced a Water- way Environment Handbook, a design manual aimed at setting a whole range of ‘standards’, or consistent attitudes towards design, colour and scale so that the maintenance of waterside structures, or the design and deployment of new amenity features can, within a series of constraints, allow the unique appeal of the urban waterway to flourish. Canal equipment, bridges, fences, signs and notice boards, cruising services, seats, planting, landscaping, buildings, waterside amenities, etc. are all discussed graphically with suggested treatments. Circulated to all British Waterways per-

sonnel and also to local authorities, industrialists and waterways societies, the handbook promises to be of enormous value-at least many are now talking the same language!

PLANNING F O R T H E FUTURE

It is clearly necessary for every ‘new’ local authority in the United Kingdom responsible for structure planning (and the 1974 restructuring will allow a new look at things) to deveIop a strategy plan for the waterways within its area so that day-to-day

routine decisions can be slotted into the overall policy, and so that planning control ‘conditions’ are imaginatively applied. This ‘Waterways Plan’ (possibly supported by consultants) should adopt the consistencies of those criteria required by the British Waterways Board and look also at those waterside areas adjacent to the original urban ‘cores’ of our towns as well as the less defined, incohesive or ‘intermediate’ areas between the urban area and the rural fringe itself. It would be a disaster to see the urban

waterway completely developed-major waterside schemes need only occur at intervals of say a mile or so-and many water- related boating usages, at present seeking rural situations, must be deflected into those canal-side areas which are ‘reclamation’ can- didates, the boating centre proposal being an integral feature of a recreational open space scheme, sited often on derelict land. Private and public sector water-side

housing can often complement and ‘firm up’ such under-used areas and improve the urban fabric, so relieving the prevailing drabness of the urban scene. Contrasts would appear to be the objec-

tive-the high architectural appeal of ‘central’ urban areas interrelated with occasional pockets of open space. Never must the waterway be allowed to be ‘opened up’ in terms of visual or physical access; this would immediately degenerate all the magic sensations of ‘enclosure’ and ‘secrecy’ and destroy the human scale, the experience of which is a rare privilege in these times in which we live.

Water, like landscape itself, has always been a key element in urban planning. Nash realized its value when planning his

nineteenth-century housing around the Regent’s Canal in London. In the task of giving central urban areas, a personality, a scale, a freedom-the opportunities to delight the eye and refresh the spirit, by employing the urban waterway, are outstanding.

Historic gardens

RenC Pechere

Introduction Gardens are a product of civilization and a synthesis of various arts. The designer must master not only matter but also ever-changing nature. A garden is a form of created beauty which at the same time contributes to the mundane but extremely useful task of purifying the air w e breathe. Gardens were frequently designed to pre-

sent a frame or setting about a monument and as such should be preserved, for a historical or artistic monument, bereft of its associations, is incomplete. O n the other hand, many outstanding historic gardens are in themselves works of art, the highest achievement of creative design representing the genius of a people. Hence, it is not surprising that in many parts of the world outstanding gardens are preserved by legis- lative act and cared for as any other important cultural property. Gardens can be threatened, as can other

monuments, by uncontrolled urban expansion, industrial development and various types of pollution, for example, highways, fly-over roads; airports; works that alter groundwater levels or modify the landscape; air, water or soil pollution which endangers the vegetation; car parks. As with other works of art, it is easier to

destroy a garden than to create or restore one. Gardens can be destroyed by disregard or ignorance on the part of legislators, the public, or even those in charge of them. Gardens are also fragile and can be severely damaged if the number of visitors is excessive.

As a general rule, a particular style found in a country is associated with given periods in history. For the purposes of restoration, the rules and traditions which governed their design should be known, but should be interpreted with freedom and originality. Age does not necessarily imply perfection, and not all gardens are perfect in all their details. Accordingly, restoration should not try to repeat the original exactly, but recreate it within the spirit of the time. The International Federation of Land-

scape Architects (IFLA), in co-operation with the International Council of Monu- ments and Sites (ICOMOS), organized a symposium on the historic gardens in Fon- tainebleau in 1971 and following this meeting an international committee on historic gardens was established. Its aims are to establish an inventory of the most important historic gardens; investigate means to protect, conserve or restore them; draft principles which can serve as guidelines for the composition, architecture, vegetation and environmental factors affecting historic gardens and their use. The historic garden has another role; to

present-day gardens they are what the works of the great writers of the past-Homer, Shakespeare, Montaigne, Goethe-are to the languages even of today. But for the age of leisure on whose thresh- old w e stand, their influence on society may be very important; they may help to give the masses a sense of the value of the individual. They are the best possible 73

RenC Pechtre

gateway to those inalienable treasures which lie in nature and in the arts. The discussion which follows takes up

some of the factors affecting programmes for the conservation of historic gardens and their traditions.

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M. F. Downing

The European experience

The importance of landscape designs, parks and gardens as works of art that can stand comparison with buildings, sculpture and even painting has tardily been recognized. Even now only a handful of great designs from the past are given the esteem that they merit. The National Trust in the United Kingdom has pioneered the case of historic sites since its foundation in the nineteenth century and this work has included the care and preservation of houses and other buildings, and of gardens and landscapes designed for visual effect as well as sites of ‘natural’ beauty. Organizations with similar objectives are to be found in other countries, though the National Trust is in many ways unique. During recent years, interest has been focused internationally through Unesco and its associated non-governmental organizations such as IFLA and ICOMOS. There is no doubt that the study of gar-

den designs in history has a great deal to tell about the relationship of man to nature as well as about values and social attitudes in different times and climates. Gardens are almost unique in the way in which they express the relationship between man’s aesthetic and conceptual development and his control of the world of nature. Historic gardens are a source of personal pleasure to countless individuals at many levels from the simplest to that of the connoisseur. With the promise of greater leisure in the future, the qualities that these gardens offer will be more and more sought by the increasing numbers of those unable or

unwilling to participate in more energetic pastimes, or seeking a different form of satisfaction. Historic gardens can provide an inspiration even in the more mundane essentials of everyday life where the introduction of design sensitivity can do SO much to improve the quality of living. If we accept that historic gardens and

designed sites are important as examples of human achievement, the question that follows is what are the critical design problems of the restoration of such sites. Are they concerned in general terms with the faithfulness to original detail of designs or use of plant material, or with ensuring that a nebulous quality of ‘period feeling’, which may well be no more than an er- roneous idea at the time of restoration, is achieved? The town of Williamsburg in Virginia,

United States, is widely known for the way in which it has been restored to its heyday in the eighteenth century. Its guides and staff dress up in eighteenth century period costume and the success of the restoration has been widely attributed to the very great care given to historic accuracy and detail. In the restoration of ninety buildings and their associated half-acre plots, no plant has been used that was not available in the eighteenth century and every other precau- tion has been taken to achieve authenticity in the design. In contrast to this is a conclusion drawn

by the late Frank Clark (1968) in an address to the Garden History Society at Stowe in

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England. Summing up a paper on the ‘Res- toration and Reclamation of Gardens’, he said, ‘By and large I should imagine that the restorer should avoid a too pedantic approach to period accuracy especially in planting.’ Some clue that these two views are not perhaps entirely incompatible is contained in the final paragraph of Clark‘s paper: ‘What I should imagine to be more important is scale and an understanding of the original designer’s intentions, an awareness of the continuity of the time-scale, and fmally a feeling for what has been called those “minutely organized particulars” which link art and science, the past and the present.’ Speaking at Stowe, Clark was naturally thinking principally of gardens of the English landscape school and not those in the Renaissance idiom such as Williams- burg. Further questions about the approach

governing the restoration and conservation of historic designs, which make the topic more closely akin to metaphysics than to simple aesthetics, were raised by L. J. Fri- cker in a paper presented at the ICOMOS symposium at Fontainebleau (1971). Among these was the retrospective quality of any judgement of a work of art, and Fricker’s insistence that the designer’s original intention is rarely if ever perceivable by anyone else, contemporary or later. Fricker also questioned the implications of the use of words such as ‘conservation’, ‘restoration’, ‘reclamation’ or ‘preservation’, all of which imply a degree of rigidity and inflex- ibility. It was a common purpose, he hint- ed, to achieve what he described as ‘the reconciliation of change and preservation’. The achievement of a compromise, unique for each situation which allowed for contemporary requirements without vitiating the original concept was what Fricker apparently advocated. H e did not, however, minimize the difficulties that this would create, realizing, if not emphasizing, that the design of gardens having evolved at particular periods to meet the circumstances

and requirements of their own time would need adaptation to conform to the needs and situation of current use. Attempts to preserve a garden may be the very means of its destruction. The Renaissance garden did, and still

does depend on ‘minutely organized particulars’, though this use of the phrase is less meaningful perhaps than the way in which it was introduced by Clark. Formal and architectural designs depend for their success on an accuracy and precision of detail which does not apply to designs of the landscape school. One of the questions which have fre-

quently been raised in relation to the restoration of historic gardens is the extent to which it is necessary to adhere to the detail of an original design. It has been suggested that in this work

there may be justification for simplifying the design to meet changed needs. If this can be done, how far can it be taken without losing the individual qualities of a particular style? Observation of restored gardens suggests that this is a particularly hazardous procedure; that in a sense, every garden however little altered from the original detail of its layout is a contemporary reinterpretation of its original style. If it is permissible to state a conclusion on the basis of evidence subsequently to be presented, it is this: Simplification as a principle of design cannot be accepted either for formal gardens or for those of the landscape school. In the latter case, the hallmark of the design is its simplicity and easy execution; in the former, as already indicated, precision of detail is the central feature of designs of different periods and styles. The eighteenth century ‘poetic garden’, as Christopher Hussey (I 967) has described it, projected a series of complex ideas and associations from designs that were in themselves extremely simple. The generation of these reactions in the contemporary viewers depended on their educational and literary background which enabled all the

members of the landed classes to appreciate the significance of naming parts of the grounds after mythological figures, and also the mood that these associations should evoke. The circuit of the grounds would be the setting for a series of tableaux, where at a turn in the path one might be confronted with a view that could be instantly recognized as ‘beautiful’ or ‘sublime’, or later ‘picturesque’. This involved the development of carefully cultivated instincts. More consciously thoughtful effort was entailed in the exploration of the morals of the classical tales brought to mind by the creation of compositions which derived from those of the great landscape painters. The placing of appropriate statuary or buildings and even the naming of parts of an estate with associative names such as the Venus Vale, the Elysian Fields or the Amaltheum, all contrived to add to the heightened associations which were to be evoked by a cultured man. During the Romantic period landscape

gardens with classical themes and associations were designed in England. Greco- Roman, Gothic and Palladian architectural features were included surrounded by trees, lakes and streams and flower beds (Plates 24 a, b) . Something of the intention of such

designs and perhaps their contemporary success is contained in William Shenstone’s account of the visit paid to him by M r Thomson, author of the poem The Sea- sons, and William Lyttleton. In a part of the fernze ortibe named Virgil‘s Grove, Mr Thomson protested his enthusiasm:

What a delightful place says he, is this for a person of poetical genius. I don’t wonder you’re devotees to the Muses. . . . This place, says Mr L., will improve a poetical genius. . . .Aye, replied Mr T. and a poetical genius will improve this place. . . . I told him my then intention of building a model of Virgil’s Tomb; which, with the obelisk and a number of mot- toes selected from Virgil, together with the pensive idea belonging to the place might vin-

The European e

dicate or at least countenance the appellation I had given it.

That these ideas were not always treated completely seriously or indeed perhaps because there were those who took them too seriously, is shown by the satirical treatment that they would receive. In Richard Graves’ Cobtmella, a satirical novel written in 1779, the hero after whom the book is named had laid out his grounds in the fashionable style of the period. With two friends he was making a tour and approach- ing Arnos Vale, the sublime culmination of the circuit, when the peace of the tour was shattered by his servant Peter coming to tell him that the farmer’s cows have got into Aaron’s well,

‘Aaron’s well! You blockhead’, says Columella, ‘Arnos Vale, you mean.’ ‘Nay, nay,’ quoth Peter, ‘I know the right name of it is Tadpole Bottom.’

W e need to achieve an understanding of the ideas of this period, which like Colu- mella’s servant, Peter, we have not been educated to understand, if we are to maintain and restore the designs it produced. As Frank Clark said at Stowe, Though gardens cannot remain static and fro- zen examples of the art of a period, yet the ideas which those gardens expressed should be understood, respected, interpreted and re-expressed. Ideas are in general eternal and are indeed the only reality.

The study of illustrations of gardens at different periods shows how superficial changes in taste can have a very marked effect on the feeling of gardens. This is often far beyond what one might expect from merely superficial variations. Com- parison of some early photographs with those of the present day and the intervening period illustrate this point very clearly, flo- rid Victorian formal planting in the same ground plan giving a totally different visual effect at different periods. Illustrations of

:xperience

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Historic gardens


Plate 24 The Romantic tradition in England. William Kent’s Praeneste, built in or about 1739 (Rousham, Oxfordshire). Praeneste was the name of a Roman hill town, the spirit of which was evoked in this feature which has busts of classical figures in its niches.

(b) The Pantheon is the climax of a sequence of views with literary and artistic associations devised at Stourhead, Wiltshire (United Kingdom) in the mid-eighteenth century by Henry Hoare.

(Photos: M. F. Downing.)

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Historic gardens

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Westbury Court in Gloucestershire illustrate changes of feeling within the interval of only a few years. The present appearance of the garden which has now been replant- ed in an approximation of its original state introduces a further question relating to period feeling, that of maturity; it becomes sometimes difficult to decide what degree of maturity in gardens represents the spirit of the period to be recaptured. Our idea of Elizabethan and some later

formal gardens, is dominated by the picture of the massive dominant clipped hedges that we find at Hidcote and Compton Wyn- gates, Heslington Manor, or even Mel- bourne Hall. This picture must have been quite different originally as the scale and the very form would have been so much less ample, and probably more-precise, or so contemporary illustrations would suggest. Fricker, in defining a garden, had this to say,

Let m e suggest that a garden is an assemblage principally of vegetation kept in a preferred state of ecological arrest by the craft of gardening; remove the control and it ceases to be a garden. If at any stage in its growth and decay it is judged to be a work of art then that can only be a retrospective judgment.

This suggestion, while not fully answering the question, shifts the responsibility from period accuracy to artistic judgement and, if accepted, extends infinitely the time-limit for goals for restoration. The formal garden is essentially a plan

shown in perspective and as such has faced designers with a series of problems of detailed design. The spacing of individual formal shrubs or statues, the widths of cross paths, and the adjustment of levels, all require an understanding of perspective and the sorts of optical illusion which can occur. This is necessary whether it is intended to correct these surprise effects or conversely to take advantage of them. At Vaux-le- Vicomte (Plate ZJ), this effect is superbly used to unite visually the arcades and the;:

fountains with the rectangular pool when seen from the house. In reality, these are separated by a distance of some several hundred feet, the river and a considerable change in level. Any French formal garden provides illustrations on a smaller scale of these tricks of formal design, and not always successfully carried out. In addition the formal designs, particu-

larly in the French manner, relied on very precise detailing. Examples of the use of hedges in relation to retaining walls to strengthen and underline the formality of the design abound among the chtiteaux in the Loire Vally, Versailles and many other mansions where the precise height of the hedge in relation to the coping stone of the retaining wall is critical (Plate 26). At Versailles, the parterre du nord retains

exactly its seventeenth century layout. The fact that the surrounding hedge is now much lower and, in fact, detracts from the statuary by being limited in height to approximately the knees of the figures, must considerably affect the feeling of the parterre. This is quite apart from changes in plant material details in the planted beds. The parterre du midi is an example of another circumstance. The ground pattern of this parterre is typical of the design work of Andrt Le NGtre, no change nor simplification could be contemplated without destroying its authenticity (Plate 27). Comparison between the great French

formal gardens and, in particular, the Eng- lish landscape school demonstrates the evolution of designs for particular purposes. The point is well illustrated in relation to numbers. French formal gardens were designed as public gardens of display, English landscape gardens were gardens of ideas and essentially private. Because they were designed for large numbers of people, almost in fact to form a background to the movement of throngs of brightly clothed courtiers, French gardens are capable of accepting large numbers of people without sustaining any harm. This is quite unlike


Plate 21 Vaux-le-Vicomte. The gardens were designed by the leading French landscape architect of the period, Andri. Le NBtre. Strict geometric lines were used accompanied by enormous vistas. In the background is the chateau and its accompanying buildings. (Photo : Interphotothkque, Documentation Fransaise.)

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Historic gardens

Plate 26 A formal garden in the French tradition at Chenonceaux in the Loire Valley of France, with the chateau bridging the Loire in the background. (Photo : Commissariat GCntral au Tourisme.)

82


Plate 27 Versailles (France). The chiteau is a complex of buildings erected during several rtgimes and is particularly associated with Louis XTV who made it his capital. The gardens were designed by Le NBtre. In the left foreground is a geometric garden, behind it the wing containing the royal apartments and the Hall of Mirrors.

To the left are seen the beginning of the pools and fountains which descend, eventually, to the Grand Canal. Versailles served as a model and inspiration to many other princely chiteaux and gardens throughout Europe. (Photo : Interphotothkque, Documentation Fransaise.)

Historic gardens

Plate 28 Gardens and lake . . . the Powerscourt Demesne in Enniskerry, County Wicklow, Ireland. (Photo : Irish Tourist Board.)


the English landscape garden. It has been a criticism that these formal gardens are stiff and boring, without the addition of movement either of groups of people or the playing of fountains. Nevertheless, the fact that the area of the formal gardens and bosquets can comfortably accommodate 40,000 visitors on a summer afternoon is indicative of the robustness of the design. No comparable landscape park could be expected to survive long under the on- slaught of such crowds (Plafe 28). It is clear that, according to Clark and

Fricker, the approach to the design problems of formal garden restoration must be a matter of scholarly and accurate re-interpre- tation if the designs are to reflect the quality of the period they represent. This does not necessarily mean that an original plan needs to be precisely copied. There are several examples of reconstructions of formal gardens which have been undertaken where no precise evidence of the original design exists but where it has been possible to make use of techniques known from other contemporary sources and from contemporary designs and patterns to provide an approximation which appears reasonably satisfactory to scholars. Such a case is the Edsell castle in Angus, where the garden was restored in the 1930s to complement the unique garden wall of 1604. This reconstruction was intended to convey the spirit of the sort of garden which might have existed in the early seventeenth century and little more. The wall contains a series of niches to represent the chequer pattern of arms of the house of Lindsay whose stronghold it was. The detail of the carving on the wall provided the inspiration for the design of the central knot garden. The planting has been carried out as authentically as possible using plants that would have been available in the early seventeenth century, though lobelia has been used to supply the azure of the arms. It is interesting to note that Gertrude Jekyll (1912) commented on the ‘Lindsay chequer in recesses in the wall

with planting, no doubt, in the recesses in the chequer colours of blue and silver’. ‘Parkinson,’ she goes on, ‘gives campanula bell flowers, double blue daisies, globe flowers and cornflowers, and stachys, woundwort, gnaphalium, catsfoot or ceras- tium for the silver.’ Similarly, at Pittmedden in Aberdeen-

shire, the garden was completely redesigned in 19j2. The designs for parterres were taken from those known to have been used at Holyrood Palace. The designer of these, Sir William Bruce, was known to have been an associate of Sir Alexander Seton of Pitt- medden and might well have prepared designs for him. Seton’s coat of arms and motto are also incorporated into the design. That the use of such emblems in designs was common practice is borne out by both written descriptions of seventeenth century gardens and by contemporary illustrations. At Washington Old Hall in Co. Durham,

the National Trust is preparing a garden in keeping with the period of the building. This is being based upon illustrations, not of the hall itself, but of Sir William Black- ett’s house, a contemporary building which stood in the centre of Newcastle. Purists may object to taking such liberties but at least the reconstruction has period authenticity and local connections. If this approach is to be adopted it is clearly desirable, if possible, to be able to analyse the design to be copied in the light of its relationship to buildings, use and topography, so that any reproduction obeys the logic of the original. The briefest acquaintance with such land-

scape parks as Stowe is enough to confirm the virtual impossibility of simplifying their design. Nor can one easily redesign them to accommodate large numbers of people. The attempt to adapt the English landscape style to use by crowds, results in designs like those for Victorian parks. Whatever one’s attitude is to Victorian parks, it cannot be pretended that they retain the character of the eighteenth century. Perhaps the only

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solution to the conservation of English landscapes lies in finding suitable uses which are compatible with the character of the design. Such an example is Stowe Park; after a somewhat insensitive start in the early twentieth century it now appears that the use of the estate by a school which can make use of both buildings and grounds without excessive change is an almost ideal arrangement. Temple Water in Ireland, recently res-

tored by the National Trust, is an example of another eighteenth-century landscape to be conserved. In this case, it was necessary to accept a more drastic change in use as the area is a !bird sanctuary and the walled garden had to be used to provide an enclosure for a series of pens for the raising of rare water fowl. According to Lanning Roper who supervised the work, it was done in the spirit of the eighteenth century though this must have been tempered by the requirements of public access. The planting took care to avoid any modern exotics, and the designer was at pains to retain the character of the eighteenth century though not being too purist in approach, believing that such a landscape should be allowed to evolve naturally and not become too much of a set piece. Many houses and gardens pose a great

problem and Belsay in Northumberland is a perfect example. Here is a unique garden of great quality and interest which has a very fragile character. It would need the greatest sensitivity for any adaptation. Being designed for private use and in small scale it could only be considered for use by limited numbers. There must be a number of gardens of a similar nature which would be a great loss were they to decay, but for which the only hope of future conservation is either to remain in private ownership, or to be taken over by some genteel establishment. Both cases would involve only limited access by the public. Some reproductions of formal gardens

are seen in retrospect to have more about

them of the period in which they were carried out than those they were intended to represent. The formal garden of Seaton Delaval, an evocation of the early seventeenth-century formal style laid out in the latter part of the nineteenth century, is not alone in failing to capture the spirit of the earlier age. It is certainly not without charm and in fact gardens of this style and period have their own special character, but because they are an interpretive exercise they cannot be mistaken for anything other than late Victorian designs. The influence of planting on older layouts, as previously discussed, can result in overlaying a quite different character on a garden. The arch- bishop’s garden at Meaux, east of Paris, an early work of Andrt Le NBtre wittily capi- talizing on the fact that the site was shaped like a mitre, is now planted in a manner influenced more strongly by the nineteenth- century plantsman than by Le NBtre himself and this gives the garden a quite distinctive character. Some gardens cause no trouble in that

their reconstruction can be undertaken without raising any question as to the appropriate period. These are usually simple, individually designed gardens for which detailed plans exist. A good example is the small garden on the island of Lindisfarne, associated with the castle and designed by Gertrude Jekyll. This is a garden of principally herbaceous plants, for which detailed plans exist. The only difficulties encountered have been those of deciphering the great plantswoman’s script and matching modern varieties of herbaceous plants to those available at the period of the original plan. Determined efforts are, however, going ahead to do this and reproduce an exact Jekyll garden. In contrast, and perhaps most difficult to

solve is the sort of problem posed by a great park like Stowe. Clark defined this when he said: What would bother me-if I had the task of restoring these gardens-would be which, of


the many stages of its developmeat one would consider the true Stowe-its 1739 Bridgema- nesque garden, the 1769 period, the 1750-80 further naturalisation of garden and park or the 19th and 20th Century uses of the great estate. Obviously the one element beside its trees and water which were constant are the varied examples of garden structures, those temples which give the scene in Walpole’s words ‘inexpressi- ble richness’.

Is it possible, faced with such difficulties, to define those qualities which result in the judgement that any particular garden is a work of art, and thus avoid the issue of the choice of any particular period? At Fontainebleau, not far from the palace

is the northern home of the Vicomte de Noailles. The small house, HBtel Pompa- dour, was built for Madame Pompadour in

REFERENCES

CLARK, H. F. The Restoration and Reclamation of Gardens. London, Garden History Society, 1969. (Occasional Papers No. I.)

HUSSEY, C. English Gardens arid Larzdscapes 1700-17lo. London, Country Life Ltd.,

FRICKER, L. J. Report : Special Problems Connect- ed with the Cotiservation of Gardens of Historic Interest in Great Britain. ICOMOS (IFLA Symposium), Fontainebleau (France), 13-18 September 1971.

1967.

1749. It is surrounded by a small formal garden rooted in the period, but no dead museum piece. In the centre of a formal area of clipped hedges and geometric paths stands an abstract sculpture by the contemporary Italian, Giacometti. This work, in- cidentally the artist’s only finished piece in stone, is brilliantly in keeping with its setting despite its period difference. Is the answer then that only where special and perhaps academic reasons exist should any attempt be made at historical accuracy? Else- where there seems to be reason enough to treat gardens as the growing, living result of the integration of elements and ideas of the past and the present which, when sensi- tively handled and responsive to one another, create the all too rare moments of high art.

JEKYLL, G. and WEAVER, L. Gardens for Small Country Houses. London, Country Life Li- brary, 1912.

PECHERE, R. Snmmar_v of General Report. First Syzposirmnz on Problems Relating to the Conserva- tion and Restoration of Gardens of Historic Inter- est; Organised by ICOMOS and IFLA, Fon- tainebleau (France), I 3-18 September 1971.

SHENSTONE, W. An account of an interview between Shenstone and Thomson, in Hunt and Willis in The Geniiis of the Place. London, Paul Elek, 197j.

Yoshinobu Yoshinaga

Japanese gardens

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The islands of Japan are located along the ‘rim-of-fire’, the chain of volcanic mountains which rim the Pacific and along which earthquake and volcanic eruptions are not uncommon. Except for a few outwash plains the islands are mountainous. The ‘spine’ of the islands is formed by fold mountains interspersed with volcanic peaks and swift-running streams dissect the mountains forming steep valleys which lead eventually to the highly indented coastline. Vegetation is varied with subtropical plants being found in the south to conifers in the north. The Inland Sea, formed by the islands of Kyushu, Honshu and Shikoku, dotted with many islands and islets, provides one of the most beautiful seascapes in the world. The rugged topography provides ever-

changing scenery and has had an important influence on Japanese landscaping. Another factor is the long continuous development of traditions which reflected the vicissjtudes of the country’s history. These two factors must be taken into account when considering the Japanese garden. According to early historical accounts,

the Japanese may have had gardens, based on Chinese models, by the fifth century A.D. However, they were definitely found by the time that the Tang Dynasty (A.D. 618-907) was established in China. The T’ang was a period of great cultural development and Chinese influence was widespread. The cen- tralized governmental system which was introduced into Japan was based on the

T’ang model. Buddhism was also introduced either from Tang China or indirectly through Korea, and became a dominant element. Paintings of the Tang period were imported into Japan for the use of Buddhist temples and influenced Japanese art. T’ang architecture was also influential,

and indeed the best surviving example of Tang building practice is to be found in the Horyuji monastery near Nara, which was erected in A.D. 607. The T’ang capital, Ch‘ang-An, also served as a model for later capital cities in China as well as for cities in many other neighbouring countries. The city of Ch‘ang-An was laid out in a rectangular plan with a smaller walled area to the north in which the ‘Imperial city’ was located. To the north of the inner walled city were large gardens. To the south, the main gate of the Imperial city opened on to a broad boulevard leading to the main city gates. This boulevard was bisected by another running from east to west.

THE N A R A PERIOD (A.D. 710-784)

The Nara period was strongly stimulated by the cultural influence of T’ang China and the first capital built in Nara, known as the Heijo-kyo, was based on the layout of Ch‘ang-An, as recorded in history and sub- stantiated by archaeological research. The Imperial enclosure was to the north, a broad north-south avenue led from the southern fasade of the palace compound through the city to the main gates, which

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was bisected by another avenue leading from east to west. Within the palace compound was a garden, based on current Chinese designs. Archaeological excavations showed that channels of water led to a pond in which an artificial island was located and linked to the land by bridges. For reasons which are not clear Heijo-kyo was not completed and was abandoned. Some idea of Japanese secular architec-

ture based on continental influence is found in the lecture hall of the Horyuji monastery, which is thought to have been the residence of a noblewoman during the Nara period. The tile-covered roof and curved roof line with eaves supported by brackets resemble the construction found in Buddhist temples in contrast to the thatched or shingled roofs of Japanese design. It was part of a complex in which the central building or shin- clen-yz&ri (literally, sleeping palace) was flanked to the south by a pond and, arranged symmetrically on the northern, eastern and western sides were auxiliary buildings known as the tainqa. The shinden was rectangular in floor plan with verandas found on all its sides (Plate 27). Instead of external walls, these were

heavy latticed doors which could be kept open or detached. Screens and curtains were used to divide the interior space.

THE HEIAN PERIOD (794-1I9j)

The capital was transferred to Heian-kyo (now Kyoto) and again the layout of Ch‘ang-An was followed. The period was marked by the end of the Tang dynasty on the mainland. During the disorders which followed, Chinese influence waned, permitting the assimilation of Chinese models and their adaptation to meet local needs. Kyoto is located in a basin surrounded

by mountains. It is very warm and humid during the summer as there are few breezes; in winter the cold air from the surrounding mountains sinks into the basin and chills the inhabitants. These factors also

influenced the design of the gardens of Kyoto. Particular attention was given to attempts of alleviating the stifling summer weather and sites were chosen by the aristocracy to be near running water or near a spring, where pavilions could be built, and the cooler surroundings enjoyed. Other factors contributed to the develop-

ment of the Japanese garden in Kyoto. Although Kyoto is not on the sea, nevertheless a knowledge and love of the sea, particularly of the Inland Sea, was also an influential element. It is impossible to consider the development of the Japanese garden without the use of stones which were used in particular to recall the rocky islets found along the coast and as symbolic rep- resentation of religious beliefs (Plate 30). The stones from the region of Mt ICura-

ma, north of Kyoto, have been known for ages as fine garden stones under the name of kztrama-ishi. These granites contain iron which studs various parts of the stone. As the iron oxidizes by weathering, the stone surface acquires a warm rustic tone. It has been claimed that this stone is unsurpassed for k:utswmgi (‘shoe-removing’ or the step- stone) or for tobi-ishi (the stepping-stones) in the shoin (Japanese parlour or study) garden and chaniwa (the tea garden). Tsdzlbai and cboyz/Dachi (short or tall stone basins) also make use of the kzlrama-ishi. Kibzme-ishi, a well-known coloured stone,

is found in the Kibune region, while from the Oi River came blue stones with white stripes known as oigawa-ishi. Black pebbles called kamogwo were found along the Kamo River, and small reddish pebbles called kamiyagawa-ishi were gathered along the Kamiya River near the Kinkakuji temple. The granite quarried in the Kitashiraka-

w a region, called sbirakawa-mikage, is comparatively soft, and has been treasured as material for making stone lanterns on account of its fast rusticating nature. The coarse white sand generated by the decom- position of this granite is called shirakawa- mna, which has been widely used as a base 89

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Piute 29 Model of a shinden palace and its garden. To the upper left is shown the shinden-pdxri or ‘sleeping palace’, linked to the tuinoyu by covered corridors. T w o islands were placed in the pond to the south and joined by causeways. The original was built in the Heian period in Hiraizumi. (Photo : Kanagawa Prefectural Museum.)

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Plate 30 ‘The Sixteen Disciples of Buddha’-natural formations of weathered rock along the sea-shore. Such formations inspired much of Japanese garden design, in particular karesansui. (Photo : Japan Air Lines.)

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or to create mounds in the garden. For instance, the white sand spread in the stone gardens of Ryoanji and Daisen-in, or in the hojo (the priest’s quarters) garden of the Daitokuji temple, uses shirakawa sand. Stones of the andesite group, which were

most commonly used garden stones, are abundant in the mountains near Kyoto. All those stones mentioned so far are

from mountains or from rivers nearby. However, designers soon called for tcmi-

ishi or sea stones found along the sea coast. Quantities of ao-ishi, or blue stones and pebbles, found along the coast of Saiga in the Kii Province (the present Wakayama Prefecture) and on the Ise-Shima coast (now in the Mie Prefecture) were used in the Kyoto gardens. These pebbles of chro- lite-schist are blue with white stripes on the surface. They are seen in the gardens of Samboin temple, Ninomaru of the Nijo castle, and in the major shoin garden of Higashi Honganji in Kyoto.

T H E S H I N D E N G A R D E N

The wide garden to the south of the Shin- den palace was called the Shinden garden, which was covered with white sand. At the south end of this wide garden was a pond with an island, joined by a bridge on which artificial hills were built. YarimiTtc or ‘running water’, flowed in

channels from the north to the south, meandering between the east and west Tai- noyas, and poured into the pond near the east-side pavilion. Inside the pond, the water ran from east to west, and finally flowed out at the south-west corner of the pond. This characteristic plan conforms to

Chinese astrological principles, called sh@z- setsu or the Four-gods Principle. The belief was that the person living in the house would be assured of his high official rank (kan-i), good fortune and salary (fah- roktc), sound health (mmb_yo) and longevity (chajzr) by having a garden on this plan.

The Four gods also referred to the four heavenly directions or spirits. They were Seiryu or the Blue Dragon, the constellation controlling the east, Byakko or the White Tiger, the animal-god presiding over the western heaven, Sujaku or the Red Sparrow, the southern constellation controlling that direction, and Gembu or the Dark Power, the turtle-shaped northern god. Hence the design called for a running stream on the left, that is, at the east side of the building, a long road on the right or the west side, ochi or a pool of water to the south and mountains in the northern background.

Shijnsetm was not the only principle followed. There were many others which influenced the designs of gardens such, for example, as Shinsen-setm or the theory of the divine fairyland, and so forth. The Heian period gradually came to an

end with the slow erosion of the political system which had been based on T‘ang models. As the influence of the emperors and the court declined, power shifted to the provincial lords and their clans. In a series of sanguinary conflicts, the Minamoto, under Yoritomo, gained ascendancy and began a system of military rule-the shogu- nate-which was to continue in Japan until 1867.

T H E K A M A K U R A PERIOD (1185-1392)

Yoritomo established his capital in Kama- kura although the imperial court remained in Kyoto. On the mainland, the end of the T’ang dynasty, and the succeeding Five Dynasties period was one of barbarian inva- sions and internal disorders. A period of stability was restored and Chinese influence once again started to spread under the Northern Sung (960-1 I 27). However, constant pressure from nomadic tribes eventually caused the Sung emperors to abandon their capital in the north and establish themselves in Hangchou in the south (South- ern Sung 1127-1279). One of the devel-

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opments which took place in the south was the rise of a new Buddhist sect, Ch‘an, which unlike the earlier sects was not concerned with metaphysics, but believed that wisdom and salvation were gained through experi- encing enlightenment. The doctrine was austere in spirit and emphasized discipline. The Ch‘an monks also contributed to a new development in the arts. They believed that the true essence of an object could only be discerned after meditation, and the experience of perception was brief. They then painted with extreme rapidity before the understanding briefly gained was lost. Con- temporary Chinese artists rejected their methods which were welcomed in Japan (although later generations of Chinese artists and historians learned to appreciate the achievements of the Ch‘an masters). The Ch’an sect was introduced into the

Iiamakura court (where it was named Zen after the Japanese pronunciation of the ideograph) and was quickly adopted by the military court and the samurai class. Its military discipline, its frugality in expression, came closer to military ideals than the rich ceremonies of the sects found in Nara and Kyoto. In Japan, many Zen priests were sword masters and it was not uncommon to have a priest as an adviser in the shogun’s court or in the households of the provincial lords. Zen priests also introduced tea drinking as an aid in meditation and Zen canons about art were widely diffused and adopted, including principles for the design and construction of gardens. The priests were called ishifafeeso or ‘stone- erecting’ priests and their influence was paramount in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and culminated during the early fourteenth century in the work of the most outstanding Zen priest, Muso-Kokushi. The Sung Empire ended with their con-

quest by the Mongols. This was not without effect on the relationship between China and Japan as the Mongol emperor, Kublai Khan made two attempts to invade the islands, in 1274 and in 1281, that were

checked by the fighting qualities of the samurai and providential typhoons which wrecked the invading fleets. But the economic strains imposed resulted in weaken- ing the government and a period of civil wars followed until the Ashikaga clan gained power and returned the capital to Kyoto.

T H E A S H I K A G A PERIOD (I 3 3 3-1 5 73)

The Ashikaga period was turbulent (it is frequently divided into two periods, the hfuromachi and the Momoyama), but characterized by outstanding development in the arts, architecture and in landscape gardening. Zen Buddhism, introduced during the Iiamakura period, became the dominant sect under the patronage of the war- rior class and the military government. The interval of 2 5 o years from the middle

of the fourteenth century to the latter part of the sixteenth century is called the ‘Muro- machi’. It was a period in which the fine arts and other accomplishments sprang up in new forms, in spite of the succession of civil wars which wrecked the countryside. One reason, perhaps, was that the deep-felt fear of death drove people into the world of arts and entertainments. This fear, however, could not be relieved by frivolous and sensual arts. Peace of mind was to be found only in higher, more profound arts, elevated to the stage of religious enlightenment. The aesthetic idea which people sought

from these arts was siore-no-bi or the beauty of drooping, of withering. It was the beauty to be found in coldness and desolation, in ageing, and the beauty of n2i4 or nothingness, i.e. of losing individuality and of becoming reduced to the bare essence of being. An important development in the arts

during the Muromachi period was mmi-e‘ or monochromatic painting. A leading painter of this period, Shiibun, developed a style based on the feeling of nature of the Zen sect, another was Sesshu. Szimi-e‘ also 93

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belonged to the art of mu. Colours and planes that existed in nature were denied and an attempt was made to reduce the life of nature on paper by means of black and grey lines and the white spaces of the paper itself. Another important influence on the

design of gardens of this period was the development of the tea ceremony, or the cha-noy. In Japan, the tea cult is usually explained by the terms wabi and sabi. Mas- ters of the art of tea ceremony explain the spirit of tea by quoting tanka poems. For instance, Take-no-Jo-o, a tea master of the time, cited a tanka by the poet Fujiwara- Teika, and said it expressed the spirit of chancyu.

I glanced over the landscape of an autumn eve No flowers, no tinted foliage, I could spy, There stood only a humble cottage by the sea.

Sen-no-Rikyu, the celebrated tea master, probed more deeply and said that the true sDirit of Wabi is exmessed bv the tanka poem of Fujiwara-no-Ietaka which reads follows :

To one who eagerly waits for the cherries bloom I’d like to show this snow-covered grass in the mountain village-lo! the spring come.

as

to

is

In both the tea ceremony and painting the idea which influenced aesthetic principles was to arrive at mu (nothingness), or oi (ageing). These Zen principles had a tre- mendous influence on the abstract design of the Japanese garden. They penetrated deeply into the spiritual life of the cultured people of the time, including the samurai warriors and court nobles. As Zen priests came to control the academic circles in Japan and finally to lead the entire Japanese culture, the Zen feeling of nature fused into the life of the Japanese people. According to the conception of Zen,

everything that exists in this universe, or every phenomenon in this universe is a way

leading to Buddha. It is also believed that all things in nature form a gigantic mandala or symbol of the universe, embodying the real state of paradise. There is a poem composed by a famed

Chinese poet Sotoba (Stl-Tong->o), saying ‘Is not the murmuring of a mountain stream perpetual preaching? Is not the form of a mountain the sign of divine purity?’ Zen priests of the Muromachi period were fond of reciting this poem, as an illustration of the basic Zen concept of nature. For Zen priests, the wind whistling over

the tops of pine trees, the roaring of a waterfall or the murmuring of a mountain stream-all sound like the preaching words of Buddha. To them the natural forms of mountains and rocks were the very image of Buddha. It was because of this idea of Zen during the Muromachi period that the forms and expressions of their works were so highly abstract. There are several special characteristics to

be noted about the gardens of the Muroma- chi period. Among them, the garden construction which directly symbolized the spirit of the time and the attitude of Zen towards nature was ishigtlmi or stone arrangement or grouping. Special characteristics of form of the garden of the period were koniwa (the small garden), sekitei (the stone garden) and karesanstli (the dry landscape). In building a garden to express the idea

of ‘the beauty of nothingness’ and ‘the beauty of ageing’, garden stones were the favourite material used. Trees are rich in colour and intricate in form whereas garden stones are rustic in form and colour and chosen to illustrate the withered quality. Some stones, when exposed to the sun and air for numbers of years, acquire a dull, faint and rusticated tone called sabi. These stones present the beauty of drooping and withering (shore-no-bi) and the beauty of coldness and desolation (hie-kareru-bi) . Thus, the use of carefully chosen weath-

ered stones became more and more prevalent

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PZate 31 The Golden Pavilion (Kinkakuji) built for the Shogun Yoshimitsu (Muromachi period). The lower two storeys are in the shinden-pkcrri style and the upper storey is in Zen Buddhist style reflecting Chinese influence. After the death of Yoshimitsu it was converted into a temple (Roku-onji). It was destroyed by arson in 1950 but has been carefully rebuilt since then. (Photo : Hisato Ide.)

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Plate 32 The Rydanji temple of the Zen sect in Kyoto (Japan). It is a leading example of kuresaflsui (dry landscape) design. The weathered stones represent islands surrounded by a sea symbolized by the raked sand. The whole composition serves as a mandala to illustrate Zen principles in understanding the universe. (Photo : Tsunenari Studio, Osaka.)

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. . " I , . :

Plate 33 The view from the tea house of the Shugakuin Imperjal Villa in Tokyo (Japan). In the foreground is a lake with little islands, created by impounding a stream with a small dam. In the distance the eye is led to the surrounding mountains, illustrating the principle of shakkei or 'borrowed' landscape where the designer makes use of the natural landscape in the background as part of the overall composition (Ed0 or Tokugawa period). (Photo : Hisato Ide.)

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4 PZde 34 (b) The garden designed by Isamu Noguchi for Unesco. The symbol carved on the fountain is derived from the archaic ideograph for the word ‘harmony’ or ‘peace’.

(e) The ‘Japanese Garden’ designed by Isamu Noguchi for the Paris Headquarters of Unesco.

(Photo : Unesco/Michel Claude.) (Photo : Unesco/D. Roger.)

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and this, in turn, helped the development of the art of stone arrangement until it came to play the most important role in the composition and expression of the Japanese gar den. For Zen priests, the garden was not a

mere object of appreciation, but a place where they invited Buddha, and listened to his preachings. The garden was looked upon as a mandala, and the garden stones were considered as Buddhist trinity. In this arrangement, three erect stones are placed together in such a way that the top of the central stone is higher than those on the right and left. The central stone symbolizes Shaka or the Buddha, the other two represent the bodbisaftvas, Monju and Fugen. There are also many other names of gar-

den stones originating from the names of Buddhist saints. Kannon (Avalokitesvara), Fzldo (Acala) and Rakan (Arahan) are some of them. These garden stones are chosen from naturally eroded erect stones. There were several large gardens in the

Muromachi period, including those of the Saihaji, Rokuonji and Jishoji temples (Plate 31). However, large-scale gardens were mot typical. O n the contrary, small gardens are considered to be representative of the period. However, these small gardens were superb works of art, and were created after the negative criticism of the colourful, flamboyant large gardens of the past such as those built in the Heian period. The size of the stones used in gardens

was naturally limited, because of the need for transportation. So the use of extremely large stones was not possible. In order, therefore, for these gardens to be dominated by the stones, they had to be small in area.

Karesanszli was the ultimate expression of Zen influence. Of course, many other gardening traditions used water to represent a stream, waterfall, lake or other hydraulic feature of the landscape. In the case of karesansui, symbolic features were used instead. Erect stones represented a cascade,

white sand represented the surface water and raked patterns in the sand the movement of waves and currents. Water being a liquid, it is impossible to

express its qualitative sense by means of stones and sand: nor is it the aim of the karesanszli garden to do so. Without having recourse to water, the garden is designed so as to express its essence even more strongly than would be possible through the actual use of water (Plate 32). The tea ceremony was also an important

element in developing the design of Japanese gardens. The ceremony took place in the cbaseki, usually a small building constructed to suggest refined poverty, but for which great pains were taken in the choice of woods and in its construction. The room was about three metres square or smaller, contained an alcove in which a painting was hung and a cut flower was placed, with a small sunken fire-place to heat water in winter. A brazier was used in the summer. The chaseki was set in a garden and the path which led to it was designed to encourage participants to detach themselves from worldly cares and interests and to help create the mood which would make meditation possible. The Shugaku-in imperial villa near Kyoto is considered to be an outstanding example. A winding path led towards the summit of a hill, lined with tall hedges to cut away distracting views. Not until the guest is seated and rested, after partaking of the tea, does he glance outward from the veranda of the house-the hedge below is now at knee height-below him his eyes are led downwards towards an irregular shaped pond, a small islet linked to the shore by a delicate bridge, and rising slowly in the distance, a series of hills which fade into the skyline. The use of the natural landscape, for which the immediate foreground provided a framework or setting, as in the Shugaku-in, was known as sbakkei or ‘borrowed’ landscape in which a garden was planned to make use of the external landscape as part of its design. Another con-

Japanese gardens

trasting type, exemplified by the Katsura Imperial villa, was one in which the horizon was closed and tall trees or bamboos shut out the external world (Plate 33). The Ashikaga period-during which so

much of artistic importance took place in the history of Japan-ended in a series of conflicts among the aristocracy in which many of the leading families of the older feudal nobility disappeared from subsequent history. In their place the provincial lords rapidly gained power and consolidat- ed their holdings. The corning of Euro- peans, the introduction of Christianity, and the appearance of new weapons and techniques such as firearms and the building of fortified castles contributed to the ferment of the times.

THE T O K U G A W A PERIOD (1600-1868)

The Tokugawa period, which succeeded the Ashikaga, was notable in many respects. The capital of the military government was moved to Edo (now Tokyo). In order to ensure continuity of power and dominance the provincial lords were compelled to live in Edo for six months of the year, and when they were in their respective pro- vinces their wives and sons were left in Edo as hostages. It was a period of cultural consolidation

as well. The size of ships trading with the Asiatic mainland was reduced by fiat, and contacts reduced to a minimum. In the early Tokugawa, the state of peace also resulted in unprecedented prosperity and the rise of a merchant class and a money (instead of rice) economy. During the seventeenth and eigh-

teenth centuries, gardens gradually became popular among the common people as their social and economic status improved. As a result more gardens were built during this period than at any other time and professional gardeners appeared. However, artistic values gradually declined. Perhaps the most important reason was the decline in

influence of Zen Buddhism so that the feeling for nature was no longer part of religious faith. Gardens became decorative and abstract design was replaced by conven- tions and rules. However, the appearance of daimpnizva

was a notable feature of this period. They were large gardens built in Edo and other castle towns by the feudal lords. In the past, the house structure constituted the principal part and gardens were subordinated, but in the dnhyo-niwa the roles were reversed. While their artistic values were not high they were largely built in urban areas and met many of the conditions required for modern city parks and many survive in this role today.

THE M O D E R N PERIOD (1868-)

The restoration of the emperor to political power occurred in 1868 with the downfall of the Tokugawa shogun. The Emperor Meiji moved the capital from Kyoto to Edo which was renamed Tokyo. An intensive period of Westernization followed. In terms of architecture, styles either copied the West or ancient Japanese designs were reproduced in reinforced concrete. The use of flowering plants, formal borders, etc., became common. By the 1930s Western building techniques were thoroughly mas- tered. Little activity took place during the early

post-Second World War period when the country was literally destitute. However, from 19j o onwards economic conditions improved rapidly and many leading Japanese architects introduced innovative styles in building design and some have played very important roles in the world- wide development of contemporary architecture. New developments in the design of land-

scape gardens have also been taking place. Many of the old gardens-whose survival is guaranteed as they are now classed as ‘national treasures’-furnish inspiration to IO1

Historic gardens

contemporary designers. In the past, the designer spent a great deal of time choosing naturally shaped stone to respond to his needs. Such stone has become rare and today the tendency is to quarry and shape suitable stone to respond to the architect’s needs and the artist’s inspiration. Some outstanding examples include Kenzo Tange’s garden for the Kagawa prefectural office,

another is Isarnu Noguchi’s garden designed for Unesco’s Headquarters in Paris. These gardens-drawing upon the use of stones, trees and vegetation of traditional Japanese gardens and influenced by modern developments in abstract art-are arriving at a new synthesis which reflects the spirit and the needs of contemporary society (Plate 3 4) .

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Gerhard Olschowy

Planning landscaping programmes

It was historically inevitable that the growth of cities and the use of land eventually would have to be planned. In mediaeval Europe, however, the principal church was usually the central pivot, with surrounding areas where trade and commerce took place. The site of the ruler’s residence was frequently chosen in terms of the need for protection or refuge in time of conflict. The walls of the city, built to take advantage of local topography, marked its limits. With industrialization new needs arose such as wide thoroughfares for automobiles and places for the disposal of wastes. In an attempt to preserve the quality of the city, industries were situated in areas apart from the commercial and residential zones, and gradually zoning regulations were adopted to control its anticipat- ed development. For many years such controls were

carried out on a piecemeal basis. Planned cities were, and continue to be, the exception. However, the concept grew that the city should be treated as a functional unit; this was first applied to smaller communities because many large cities are agglomer- ations of former distinct communities which maintained their political administration. Hence, it was not always possible to obtain co-operative action. Today, there is an increasing tendency to combine several local planning areas or communities in regional development plans so that a ‘natural’ area, or a landscape ecological unit can be considered as a whole and its devel-

opment planned on a rational basis. At first general principles were lacking. A start was made when inventories were taken of an area’s natural characteristics and it was possible to illustrate land and urban management targets. Once such data became available many communities welcomed the establishment of plans. An example is the ‘Green Charter of the Mainau’-adopted in 1961 at the Mainau Round Table Confer- ence-which urged (Section V) the drawing up of landscape plans for all communities. The Federal Republic of Germany has since made the use of landscape plans mandatory. The reasons for this are not far to seek.

Towns are growing and extending their sphere of influence. Rural communities have either lost their identities or are mush- rooming from their ancient nuclei. The open countryside is marked by new building areas, and traffic, industry and defence make increasing demands on living space. The entire countryside is undergoing revolutionary changes which affect the cultivated landscape. Such impacts cannot fail to upset prevail-

ing ecological balances and scar the face of the countryside. Valuable woodlands perish where they are most urgently needed, that is, on the fringe of large towns and congested areas. Avenues, spinneys and riverside vegetation are diminished, the water balance and the microclimate disturbed, soil erosion is triggered off by wind and water and fertile soils are destroyed. This many-faceted strain is offset by a growing

6

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Gerhard Olschowy

demand for recreational space which acts to preserve the natural environment. The cultivated landscape and its natural potentialities thus become exposed to intensified human stresses and it has become increasingly necessary to integrate landscape plans into development schemes.

PLANNING

The Academy of Natural Environmental Research and Physical Planning has established a number of guidelines for the establishment of plans : I. The Local Landscape Plan which illus-

trates goals and provisions in the field of landscape management and nature conservation (as a rule within the framework of the master plan). It is divided into two parts : (a) a basic part or survey, featuring facts and findings, an analysis of the landscape and its diagnosis; (b) programmes setting forth landscape management goals including areas for development as well as for preservation. These are illustrated with graphs, textual material, photographs or by other suitable means. Surveys and projects may be worked out jointly or at different times.

2. The regional landscape scheme or Land- scape Sketch Plan, embodying inter-district objectives of land management and nature conservation (as a rule within regional and ‘Land’ or provincial plans).

3. The Green Space Plan which establishes local targets and ‘green’ planning measures within the present and projected construction area (generally as a part of the master plan). It is drawn up on an analysis of ‘green’ space requirements and the diagnosis and measures required for a comprehensive green space policy.

A suitable scale for landscape plans is I/~,OOO; large areas may call for I/IO,OOO. Small-area local planning requires a scale of I/Z,JOO or less. Landscape sketch plans, which roughly correspond to regional planning schemes, are drawn to scales of

I/ 10,000, I /z y ,000 and above. Green plans may vary between I/~,OOO, 1/2,yoo or less, and conform to the scale of the correspond- ing local development plan.

STRUCTURE A N D CONTENTS O F T H E LOCAL LANDSCAPE PLAN

The landscape plan has to be carried out in two phases, because the basic part or survey, which identifies the natural characteristics of the planning area and provides key information on ecological fundamen- tals, should precede work in other planning sectors-such as country and regional plans, technical plans and the master plan-for such work should be based on surveys. It is, therefore, advisable for a community or planning body to obtain the maps and charts needed for the survey in time, and to commission the studies required at an early date. The analytical and diagnostic studies for the surveys belong to the environment research stage. The projects of the landscape plan represents land management goals and measures, and should include environmental planning, and take into account other activities such as : regional or local planning, road-building, hydraulic engineering, agriculture or mining plans. All these should be integrated, with regulations which are legally binding, in the landscape plan.

The survey This is a summary of the results of analytical and ecological research. The analysis of the landscape is tantamount to a geophysical inventory of the area, summarizing present conditions : natural structure, relief, bed-rock, soil, water, climate, flora and fauna, as well as the interplay of all these factors, and their ‘interaction cycle’. The inventory should include notations on existing nature and landscape reserves, national trust monuments, catchment and


water reserves, woodland reserves, and finally the designation of any area eligible for preservation.

Sowce ma feerids

These include topographical and geological maps, soil and climate maps, water resources or water-table maps, and sufficient data on soil, climate and water resources of the area under examination. Special microclimatological map sheets or overlays are useful. These should record prevailing winds, their velocities and fre- quency, the occurrence and behaviour of cold air, and in temperate zones, the danger of wind and radiation frosts, set of hail drifts, and the relations between climate and biological phenomena. A special water resources map should, where called for, indicate drainage and irrigation measures, tile drainage, outlet possibilities, water table, and existing water-deficient and water-logged areas. The recording of damage to the countryside is of particular relevance, since the landscape plan should contain proposals for repairs. In predominantly agricultural areas, where the effects of wind and frost, industry, surface mining and other human interventions have resulted in extensive injury to soil and water resources, the preparation of a separate sheet on landscape deterioration becomes imperative.

Diaposis of the Landscape

The inventory, landscape analysis and ecological investigations are integrated into a diagnosis of the landscape which evaluates the area’s natural potentialities, with special reference to existing or possible prejudice to the ecology and the appearance of the landscape, and then fixes the scope and limits of exploitation to ensure a balance between results of investments and protective measures.

The programme

Part of the landscape plan is based on the survey and on its derivative, the diagnosis of the landscape. The plan shows land management goals, proposals and projects, whether preservative, preventive or creative and is oriented towards the development and improvement of the man-made landscape. The proposed measures refer to agriculture and urban construction, road- building, hydraulic engineering, mining and the construction of industrial plants, and may include: soil conservation, climate (wind) protection, the safeguarding of a healthy water-balance, the building, widening and planting of roads, paths and railways with due regard for the landscape context, the screening of industrial plants and the prevention of damage through industrial and traffic effluents, the beautifying of tips, disused excavations and residual mining lakes, the re-cultivation of wasteland, and so forth.

Space for recreational activities should also be borne in mind. The landscape plan includes planned conservation areas and sustained utilization of the natural resources, above all of soil and water, flora and fauna. Furthermore, it must bring into relief those physical features-for instance water, lowlands, steep slopes and other contours or shrub and woodland zones-which need preventive protection and whose original state should be safe- guarded. This should be the case even if the area is destined for another use such as highways, industry or housing. Thus, and only thus, will it be possible to

lay the foundations of future green space planning which can draw on an adequate biological potential of the natural environment.

The Lanhcape Sketch Plan This plan is for regional areas so that certain details can be dispensed with. The

Gerhard Olschowy

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sketch plan would include priorities in the use of agricultural and sylvicultural land; the establishment of manufacturing industries ; large recreation zones and relaxation grounds adjoining urban centres ; judicious location of inter-communal waste disposal; nature reserves of every description, and landscapes worthy of preservation and development. Concepts such as amenity landscape, recreation forest, holiday village, guest house farm, are more or less new, but express a trend affecting the countryside, which now claims recognition as a separate item of regional landscaping.

The Green Space Plan This plan is a side-line or a by-product of the landscape plan. It generally concerns existing or proposed residential areas (building zones), traffic or industrial zones. As a rule, it is interlocked with the master plan, or forms part of the municipal building schemes for large cities. The Green Space Plan shows all the green areas, such as private and public gardens, roadside plantings, lawns along streams and ponds, screen, shelter and filter plantations in industrial districts, and so forth.

T H E VEGETATION M A P AS ECOLOGICAL BASE M A P

A new and important line of approach to planning has recently come to the fore: the vegetation map, a supplemental map of vast ecological significance. It records plant ecological relations and should represent natural associations of vegetation, i.e. plant communities which should survive without human intervention-as a rule, certain forest associations-as well as the existing vegetation of woodland, forest and pasture, arable, heath and other man-influenced sub- stitute growth forms. A great point in its favour is that it can

be drawn comparatively quickly and at moderate expense, giving, nevertheless,

valuable and sure clues regarding the locali- ty. Indeed, natural vegetation faithfully reflects all the habitat factors and their in- terrelationships, and modern plant sociolo- gy has evolved reliable methods of drawing conclusions about habitats from vegetation features.

Using a vegetation map

A study of the vegetation map will contribute to planning land use and development. Among a wealth of applications, we can single out such examples as the re-location of farmsteads or the delineation of new building or relaxation areas. The map will likewise provide valuable indices regarding the suitability of the site for woodland, arable or pasture land. Designation and delineation of so-called marginal soils can be shown so that afforestation can be governed by natural crop conditions. Drainage and irrigation measures can be planned in the light of the vegetation map, which will help to solve, above all, the problem of degree. It can be used to aid in aligning highways, railways, or canals and in siting local green space. The vegetation map, is finally, of major

importance for the selection of suitable tree and shrub species in landscape management and ‘green’ planning. Timber species adapted to particular habitats not only ensure an optimum rooting of plantations, they also show the most satisfactory development and, when combined into a naturally coherent association, soon form a harmonious mass. They require little care, and replacement, and will thrive at a minimum cost of layout and maintenance. Highway departments have commissioned the ecological mapping of new motorway or autobahn alignments. The German Federal Institute for Plant Ecolo- gy, Nature Conservation and Land Management provides expert advice on many railway lines.


Choosing plants

The native plant population of any given habitat offers a varying number of trees and shrub species. It is the landscape architect’s task to select from this gamut those species which best reply to the needs in question. A modern motorway makes a vastly different demand on timber species from that made on an anti-erosion plantation, a farmstead plantation, a bird sanctuary, or an area of afforestation. Yet, almost invariably, the plant range will include species suited to the problem. Only exceptionally will it be expedient-out of biological engineering or ‘green’ planning considerations-to fall back on species of related families, as, for example, in the case of extreme habitats; but even here the native plant association will suggest and determine the choice.

Zising inference sheets

A series of inference sheets, illustrating optimum habitat uses, can be prepared from deductions about vegetation. These sheets can show, for instance, the ideal sites for conifers and valuable hardwoods, for cereals, root crops or other special crops. Other map sheets are used to show the suitability of the land for pasture or fruit, set forth suggestions for irrigation and drainage measures, reveal yield safety in times of drought or floods, and point out the danger of water or wind erosion. Final- ly, maps designed to this end, will guide the planner in the selection of trees, shrubs and grasses for hydraulic engineering, road- building, protective plantations and for the rehabilitation of wasteland.

APPLICATIONS OF THE LANDSCAPE P L A N

Among the ‘fields of action’ of the landscape plan or landscape sketch plan respectively, let us first consider country or regional planning. The Space Distribution

Act for the Federal Republic of Germany (8 April 1965) is an example of planning legislation. It provides in its paragraph I that the overall physical replanning of the federal territory should proceed with due respect for ‘environment data’. The ‘Green Charter of the Mainau’ also states as item I of its summary ‘legally enforceable town and country planning at all levels with regard to natural conditions’. Planning should always take into account natural environmental conditions, in other words the fabric and the eco-system of the landscape. This implies mustering, tabulating and illustrating those conditions. The basic or survey part of the landscape plan has a major role to play. It may be used by planners at all levels for facts, ideas and proposals; and so constitute the only guarantee that, in accordance with the provisions of the Act, physical planning will indeed pay due note to the planning unit. Even though the preparation of land-

scape plans may not be compulsory, the landscape sketch plan, as a preliminary to country and regional development planning, should be carried out as a matter of principle. Again, landscape plans may be inserted into regional planning projects as technical by-plans. An important example of regional plan-

ning is the development plan for the Ruhr coal-mining district. Within the Federal Republic of Germany this is the first obliga- tory plan on a regional scale drawn up in accordance with formal legal procedures; at the same time, it is the first regional plan to have been worked out by a self-governing corporate body. This plan outlines specific land management targets for controlling the scenic features of the Ruhr district, safeguarding the interests of agriculture and forestry, as well as satisfying the recreational requirements of the population. Local planning, likewise rooted in the natural geophysical features and fabric of the landscape, should use the landscape plan as a basic reference as early as possible

Gerhard Olschowy

so as to make the best use of its findings and suggestions. The aim of an urban green space policy is

not to clothe in trees, shrubs and lawns open spaces which have more or less accidentally been left over after construction has taken place. On the whole, green space and green belts should retrace environmental peculiarities and topography. Watercourses, for instance, with their verge vegetation, or remaining lowland copses may provide a welcome base. Using physical data to advantage also means that so-called escarp- ments, the tectonic expression of a landscape, as well as low ground or ancient flood pits (in themselves precarious building sites) should be set aside for green spaces and green belts. The same holds good .for subsidence areas due to under- ground mining and for worked out surface mines. Physical planning, in tune with natural contours, will enhance organic urban expansion, integrating the town with the surrounding countryside. As an indicator of natural environment data, the landscape plan can thus become a corner-stone of municipal planning. The preservative, preventive and con-

structive land management proposals set forth in the landscape plan should be incorporated into subsequent building schemes. They will generally cover only parts of the communal area, that is the building zones. One or several building schemes may em- brace the whole community area and since the municipal building schemes, on adoption, are usually legally binding, they would automatically include landscaping suggestions carried over from the landscape plan. A special green space plan for building zones, as an appendix to the building scheme, will complete the picture.

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TECHNICAL PLANNING

Agricultural planning

Agrarian sketch plans and agricultural reconnaissance plans resemble the regional development plan in that they are large- surface schemes. Like the landscape plan, they are divided into surveys or analyses, and an evolutionary or programming plan. Reconnaissance deals, among other things, with soil, climate and topography, and once again, this is where the basic part of the landscape plan will provide data. The preliminary stages of agrarian reform should not be divorced from land management considerations and the programme part of the landscape plan will provide relevant suggestions and an outline of measures for high-yield agriculture. Planning should include the consolida-

tion of holdings, in order to make best use of machinery and the terrain. The re-organization of agriculture on a large scale entails thorough remodelling of the agricultural area. There is hardly any other process which so deeply affects settlements or the appearance of the man-made landscape. At the same time, it affords unique opportunities for a rational realization of the desidera- ta of land management.

Mining

Work plans for strip mining should foresee the recovery and restructuring of the countryside. The future surface layout should be planned so that the area once exposed should not remain a blighted zone and its recovery included in a landscape plan.

Road-building and Lydraulic engineering regulations

Building projects with their intrusion on nature should be based on a landscape plan. In this field, the role of the landscape plan is primarily to show the way towards preventing or minimizing deterioration and


disturbance of the natural living space, and on the pertinent plant lists, and fix the towards repairing damage. Preliminary method and extent of planting needed to plans for building should be accompanied adapt the project to the scenery. It is a by a landscape plan, indicating the existing task-from the stage of alignment and road vegetation as well as appropriate measures cross section design-which calls for close to harmonize construction with the natural co-operation between the road engineer and setting. The landscape plan should be based the landscape architect.

Gerhard Olschowy

A reclamation programme- strip mining I

INTRODUCTION

In many parts of the Federal Republic of Germany, productive land, housing and recreation areas have been transformed and influenced by mining. This includes under- ground mines and large and small-scale strip mines. The multiple encroachments of mining deeply affect the natural balance and visual features of the landscape. In the Federal Republic of Germany,

chalk, pumice, diatomite, and oil shale are mined in large-scale strip mines. Limestone, ore and lignite (brown coal) are mined in very deep large-scale strip mines. The latter type of excavating creates a series of particularly dificult landscape management problems. The lignite deposits in the lower Rhine

area are the most important in the Federal Republic of Germany and the largest coherent lignite deposits in Europe. They cover an area of about 2, j 00 square kilometres, extending from the area of Briihl, Bonn and Euskirchen in the south-east to the Netherlands border via hhnchenglad- bach and Rheydt in the north-west. The southern border fringes the Eifel, and the eastern border the Rhine (Fig. 4 a, b). The seams in the Rhine district, up to

about IOO metres thick (averaging 40 metres), were disturbed by numerous dislo-

I. Based on a report submitted to the United Nations Conference on the Human Environ- ment, Stockholm, 1972.

cations. They originated in the mid- Tertiary, IZ to 20 million years ago, at the transition between the Oligocene and the Miocene and during the Miocene. The Sequoia played a great role in the formation of the coal. The pristine forest also included Nyssa, Tsuga and Taxo- diaca. Because the seams were not exposed to intense pressures and temperatures like those developed during the forniation of mountains in other areas, they are only in the lignite stage. The total supplies have been estimated at jj,ooo million metric tons, of which 10,000 million metric tons are exploitable by present-day techniques in open-cast or strip mining. Exploitation in the Rhineland increased from about 86.5 million metric tons in 1961, following temporary recessive developments, to about 9; million metric tons in 1970. About 7 2 per cent is used for the production of electrical power and the balance for the production of briquettes. A hauling capacity of I IO million metric tons per year is the largest reached in the mid 19705, which exceeds the exploitation in 1970 by 20 per cent. When exploitation started in the southern

part of the lignite area, the depth of overburden was IO to 20 metres. The proportion of waste material to coal was 0.3 to I. The situation changed when operations expanded to the north. At present, strip mines in the Inde area are over IOO metres in depth, and to the north 250 metres deep. In the near future, the depth of overburden

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Gerhard Olschowy

A reclamation programme-strip mining

Gerhard Olschowy

plate jj (a) A modern cutter wheel excavator in

operation. The valuable loess soil is being removed to be used in reclamation programmes. The excavator is over zoo metres long, 70 metres high, and has a capacity of over IOO,OOO cubic metres per day.


(b) A strip mine. The overburden of loess has been removed and the layer of lignite exposed for exploitation. In the background is a large plant using lignite as a fuel, and to its right a plant to manufacture briquettes of pressed coal.

(Photos : Olschowy.)

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removed will reach 400 metres, making the pit TOO metres and more deep. The ratio between overburden and coal will be 4: 4 : I to 6 : I in deep strip mines. Strip mines can be operated profitably

only with modern technical equipment. At the moment, gigantic machinery, large vehicles and conveyor belts are in use. Because of the way the coal is stratified, cutter wheel excavators are used. This type of excavator adjusts easily to changing conditions, and with it a separation of the overburden layers can be achieved as well as good separation of the overburden from coal. It has an excavating range of 6j metres in height and 3 1 metres in depth. When in operation the machinery uses as much electrical power as a city of 40,000 inhabitants. Larger machines weigh between 6,000 and 8,ooo metric tons, are 72 metres high and zoo metres long, have caterpillar tracks for propulsion, and can lift more than IOO,OOO metric tons of coal or the same amount of overburden in cubic metres during a continuous nineteen-hour working period. In 1971, a new cutter wheel excavator was obtained which is 220 metres long, weighs 13,000 metric tons, and has a cutter wheel diameter of 21.6 metres. It has doubled the capacity of the older models. Both types of machine can drive at a speed of IO metres per minute using their fifteen caterpillar tracks (Plate 3~ a).

LEGAL CONTROLS A N D PLANS

Planning in the Rhineland lignite area is based on special legislation. O n zj April I 9 j 0, the Act for Comprehensive Planning in the Rhineland Brown Coal Area (Geseq fur die Gesamtpl’anung im Rheiniscben Braun- kohlengebiet) was enacted by the state Par- liament of the Land Nordrhein-Westfalen. Under this law, a master plan for the area must be drawn up within the framework of the North Rhine-Westfalia State Planning Law. The planning area includes the counties contained within the lignite area and

covers I,JOO square kilometres. The master plan foresees: (a) determination of areas in which mining and other industrial operations can be located, of the areas which are reserved for agricultural and forestry and of town areas; @) determination of towns, sections of towns, or single buildings which in the interests of mining need to be removed and their relocation sites; (c) determination of areas in which roads, railway lines and power and water lines can be located, relocated, or terminated ; and, what has to be stressed is : (d) planning of waterways; (e) agricultural and forestry, and general landscape planning taking into account monument, nature, and landscape management. The amendment to the General Mining

Act, which was also enacted on 25 April 1950, determines that the mining authority also supervises the ‘securing and zoning of land-use and landscape planning during and after the mining operation’. An act concerning the establishment of a

common fund was also adopted. It ensures common liability for reclamation measures in the Rhineland lignite area. A percentage is levied on the excavated coal. In this way, re-cultivation is financially secured in the event that the mining company is unable to pay upon termination of the mining project. A master plan has been prepared by the

Rhineland Lignite Area Planning Commit- tee, a special council of the Rhineland State Planning Association. Representatives of state and community departments, labour unions, agriculture, trade, and the mining companies belong to this planning committee. The plan is binding over all decisions made by governmental authorities and legal public bodies of the area. Operational plans of the mining company and the counties’ land-use and development plans must be co-ordinated with the approved master plan. Within the framework of the mining au-

thority’s supervision, special operational


plans are required from the mining companies-today, the only mining company is the Rheinische Braunkohlenwerke A.-G. These plans include: relief design, water drainage, water storage, road access, forest areas and field plants, shelterbelt locations, farm locations, composition of agricultural areas, etc. Since 19j0, many detailed plans have been drawn up by the planning committee and many operational plans have been approved by the mining authority for implementation. The use of old top soil is controlled by

the regulation concerning the protection of top soil in paragraph 37 of the Federal Building Act of 23 June 1960 and by the I 740 regulation concerning the reclamation of open-cast or strip mines (Plate 3j 0).

EFFECTS O F STRIP MINES

Large-scale and intensive exploitation of lignite strip mines results in deep encroachments upon the landscape and seriously affects its natural balance. This is particularly true of the water balance of the area, making extensive hydrological measures necessary. In an area of 2,700 square kilometres, damage through water shortage for the population, agriculture and industry must be avoided or adjusted if possible, the flow of waterways regulated and the sewage problem solved. In order to keep groundwater away from

the mining area, wells are installed around the excavations. Through pumping, the water-table is lowered to pit level. The recovered groundwater flows via the Erft and a specially built canal into the Rhine. The pumps discharge about thirty cubic metres of water per second. At present, twenty cubic metres per second are dis- charged into the canal and the balance into the Erft. On the average, 13,000 litres of groundwater must be pumped before a ton of lignite is mined. It was obvious from the beginning that

only co-operation among all parties in-

volved would guarantee success. Therefore, the Land of North Rhine-Westfalia decided to consolidate all existing interest groups into a hydrological society. The society was patterned after the existing water utilization association. In strip mining, the overburden must be

removed. Consequently, the entire cultivated landscape relief is completely altered. The overburden is used, as much as possible, to refill the coal excavation sites, known as ‘inside dumps’. The excess material is deposited in so-called ‘outside dumps’, for example : Hohe Vollrath (open- cast mine, Frimmersdorf) with 270 million cubic metres and a height of about IOO metres; auf dem Nierchen (open-cast mine, Inden) with 40 million cubic metres and 60 metres in height; Glessener Hohe (open-cast mine, Fortuna-Garsdorf) with 170 million cubic metres and 40 to 80 metres in height. The creation of high dumps in the land-

scape, and the need for agricultural and forest areas create difficult landscape planning problems. In addition, difficulties arise from the need to relocate farms, villages, roads, water courses and railways. The water balance of the area is altered and the water-table is lowered over a large area for a period of time. The loess obtained by mining operations-a welcome present of nature-must be utilized. The impound- ments filled with water must be used in a reasonable way and blended into the landscape. This listing of measures and tasks illustrates how closely large-scale strip mines must be related to landscape ecology and design. Hardly anywhere else do the different interests enter into conflict to such an extent as in the Rhineland lignite area. Agriculture is endangered because it has to give up its best loess areas. The population, especially from the nearby large city of Cologne, requires adequate recreation areas, suitably equipped. The landscape, which needs to be con-

structed anew after the strip mines are ‘I7

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exploited, must be formed differently from the past, and there is the possibility, which exists nowhere else in middle Europe, of designing a future landscape using the latest scientific results, years of practical experience and progressive development trends.

SCIENTIFIC STUDIES

Ecological and analytical research as a basis for planning and especially landscape planning, has encountered special difficulties in the strip mining area. Analysis of the overburden is required, especially if it is to be used as fill for a future cultivated area-its water balance, nutritional and calcareous contents and its erosion vulnerability. The results of agrometeorological studies on similar sites must be evaluated. If necessary, model dumps must be built arid their reactions to wind determined in a wind tunnel. Older dumps must be analysed to determine what potential natural vegetation will develop on reclaimed areas and what natural factors must be considered. A series of valuable scientific studies

were carried out on pedological research and loess, on rinsing areas and on ecological and ornithological conditions in the old southern part of the mining area; also agrometeorological measurements on dumps were taken, the wind tunnel experiments were made, and mapping of vegetation and vegetational succession was undertaken. A permanent vegetation plot on a newly

deposited dump inside an excavation area showed that, in the first year forty-two species of phanerogamic plants invaded the virgin soil. Half of these were anemochorus plants, those having wind-blown seeds. Therophytic plants were the most abundant, but a few woody species also invaded the area. Considerable change in species composition was noted two years later. Ob- servations on the higher plants are being continued and studies on the soil flora and fauna are under way in conjunction with

research on soil for formations. In parts of the experimental area, some of the major woody species have been seeded in order to study their germination and early survival on bare soil. Another objective of these studies is to

obtain information about the causality of vegetational dynamics, of interruptive spreads or sudden breakdowns in the expansion of certain plant species.

RELOCATION OF BUSINESSES A N D VILLAGES

Relocation of single farms to a whole village is the most difficult task involved in strip-mining operations. Up to the present, I 5,6 5 3 individuals and 2,6 3 3 residences, including property, have been relocated in the Rhineland lignite area. In addition, another relocation is in the beginning stage for 2,476 persons occupying 490 residences. However, another 9,375 persons in 1,860 residences will be relocated by approximately the year 2000. Land consolidation can be achieved dur-

ing the relocation process and developers can be brought in for housing development. Choice of the new sites must be co- ordinated with state planning and land-use planning as well as the wishes of the people involved. Most of the new residences will be attached to already existing villages to use existing institutional infrastructures.' The development plans for the new sites are drawn up in co-operation with a qualified city planner. Farmsteads are being combined with

hamlets or parts of villages, allowing for better adjustments to changes in the agricultural structure and to promote co-operation. The new farms are surrounded by shel-

ter-belts and are connected to the plantings which surround cultivated areas. The first agrarian hamlet in the reclaimed area, Ber- renrath, was introduced to the public on 21 September 1971.


RECLAMATION AND LANDSCAPE DEVELOPMENT

Agricultural reclamation measures are determined to a great extent by the available loess material in the north and west of the area. The layers reach a thickness of up to 20 metres. It is mainly young, fresh loess, very calcareous, with relatively little clay substance and much fine sand. In its natural state it is covered with its weathered product, the loess loam, which develops into a soil containing a high percentage of adhesive material (particles under 0.0 I millimetres in diameter). This is advantageous for the production of valuable cultivated areas. The value of the loess soil for agriculture lies in its high calcareous content and in its good pore volume of almost jo per cent, which results in good air and water balance. The chalk creates a good friable structure, good secondary clay minerals and stable humus. O n the other hand, experience has shown that, when the loess is excavated and then re-deposited in another area, it soon develops poor water balance and is very vulnerable to erosion. Because of this vulnerability, newly created arable lands should have a slope of less than 1.j per cent. This is especially necessary when shaping the dumps for agricultural purposes. Depending upon the distance from the

place of origin of the loess material, the new areas destined for agricultural use are covered with loess layers of one to two metres. A loess covering of z metres results in optimum yields. Two methods of laying loess on restored areas have proved to be most effective; (a) spreading by machine, and (b) flooding with loess slurry (wet procedure). In exceptional cases, filling is done by trains, trucks or conveyor belts. In the ‘wet procedure’, loess and water are mixed in a I to 1.j ratio. The mixture is poured into previously established polders of 3 hectares on the dump area. Studies show that one year after cultivation the

loess placed on the lands by this method has a higher pore volume than the loess found in its natural state. Original loess areas cultivated in the normal manner show a pore volume of about 46 per cent. Loess layers put on the reclaimed lands by the ‘dry procedure’ show figures between 43 to 4j per cent. But loess layers put on the lands by the ‘wet procedure’ reach a pore volume of 48 to jo per cent after twelve months of cultivation. These impressive figures originate primarily from the high calcareous content of the loess. During the mixture with water, curdling of the bical- cium carbonate occurs which provides essential support to the soil structure. In addition, the figures are influenced by the desiccation of the loess following the swell- ing of the soil particles when they were in contact with water, as hollow spaces filled with air are created. The rinsing procedure also creates com-

pletely flat areas, and dump areas change into horizontal polders which aid in controlling erosion. In order to prepare the rinsing area for agricultural use, deep- rooted legumes must be cultivated; alfalfa and a special variety of clover (Steinklee) are especially suitable. Both legumes produce, to a great extent, organic substances which enrich the soil with nitrogen. Alfalfa, with its seven to eight-metre long roots, also supplies deeper areas. Clover’s advantage is that it can be seeded almost all year round. For a period of five years, areas filled with raw loess must be treated in this way before ultimate yields can be reached. During this time, a soil develops which is nutritious, full of humus, and equals normal soil in steady yield productivity (Plate 3 6) . By the end of 1970, the reclaimed agricul-

tural areas in the Rhineland lignite area amounted to 3,414 hectares (1,zzj hectares in the last five years). By the end of 1970, 4 , ~ 16 hectares

were reclaimed as forest land. In 1968-70, on the average about 174 hectares were

Gerhard Olschowy

Plate 36 (a) T w o new farms, part of a hamlet, built

upon reclaimed agricultural land (Berrenrath). The 830 hectares is one of the largest reclaimed agricultural areas.

(Photo : Rhein-Braun.)

I2 0


(b) An attractive landscape created in the southern part of the Rhine lignite region in the reclamation programme. The lake and ground cover cannot be told apart from the ones formed naturally.

(Photo : Olschowy.)

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Industrial Reafforested Other areas areas reclaimed

areas

FIG. 5. Reclamation of farm land in strip-mined areas.

afforested each year by the forest department (Fig. 5). The afforestations, initiated in the 1920s,

contain an extremely high variety of tree species. During the first systematic afforestations, which aimed at securing the pit slopes, tree species with intensive roots were preferred. Later, indigenous deciduous tree species and a variety of conifers were included into the experimental programme in the former pit area. The deciduous and coniferous species were planted in row and random mixtures, as well as in monocultures of different sizes. These early forest reclamation experiments are of special importance as long-term research on the growth rhythms of single species on raw soil can be undertaken. During and after the Second World War

there was a lack of cultivation. Since 1910,

this lack has been compensated by the planting of huge poplar plantations. A variety of Popul'us ngra hybrids was used, un- derlain by alder. The dumps' loose soil proved to be especially good for poplar growth, as can be seen from the quality and growth productivity of the old poplar plantations. At the end of the 1910s the poplar and

alder plantations, which can be called pre- forests, were replaced with indigenous deciduous species. The latter were mixed with poplar which served as an umbrella. In these plantations the beech tree dominated followed by different varieties of oak, maple, elm, linden, cherry trees and other indigenous species of the primitive forest. Plantation of these species omitting the pioneer forest stage is possible through the use of forest gravel. Forest gravel is a dilu-


vial mixture of gravel, sand, and shingle from the first section of the open-cast mine. Since 1960 this mixture, judged best by soil scientists, is used for forest recultivation in a thickness of from three to five metres. The nutritional supply and the physical structure allow the roots to go deep. De- spite the low water-table and the relatively small water capacity, the mixture has good water balance. Before choosing the species to be planted

an analysis of the site is necessary, such as measurements of the soil acidity and the percentage of clay. In an effort to provide the soil with as many organic substances as possible, a much denser plant cover can be obtained by planting lupins which not only enrich the soil with nitrogen, but also protect it from the sun. It also hinders the blowing away of valuable leaf cover which is vital for humus development. In determining forest reclamation areas

two principles are followed : (a) agricultural areas must be separated and protected from industrial and residential areas by wide forest strips; (b) the borders of the dumps are planted with specimens found in indigenous association. Measures to stabilize the slopes and protect them with the choice of forest species, as well as the application of special biological-technological reclamation methods, have to be planned. The dumps raise a number of severe problems for landscape designing, but they can also help to create dynamic and varied scenery. Mould- ing of the borders of the dumps is important to blend them into the surrounding landscape. The shape of the dumps must be so designed as to avoid abrupt changes with their surroundings and to deflect wind currents upwards without causing undesirable effects. To achieve these two aims, the slope of the edges has to show a ratio of inclination not steeper than I to 3. Broad steps or terraces must be constructed to prevent erosion, and afforestation should be the principal method of re-vegetation.

As enough material is not available, to fill in all the excavations, ground water runs into the depressions and turns them into artificial lakes. Thirty-nine lakes and ponds cover a total area of 472 hectares. The lakes and ponds in the older southern portion of the mining area determine the features of the landscape. In the plan of the area, the use of the different lakes is determined. The ‘Heider Bergsee’ and the ‘Liblarsee’ in the southern portion as well as the ‘Echtzer See’ and the ‘Diirener See’ in the western portion will serve as recreation areas. Pub- lic beaches covered with sand, boat rentals, camping areas as well as water-skiing and sailing areas will be established. The ‘Icier- dorfer Teiche’ and many smaller ponds with their surroundings in the southern portion, which are not close to roads, are designed as wildlife habitats, especially for birds, certain game species, and fish populations. This area will serve as a reserve and be kept separate from mass tourism (Plrlte 36 b). The value of the lakes and ponds for recreation or as an ecological asset must be judged by how well the lake shores have been designed and constructed. They should be kept nearly flat, with a ratio of inclination not steeper than I in 3, and without any sharp incisions at the foot or the upper end of the slope, so that the transition to adjacent levels is smooth. Lake shores for bathing must be levelled

to a slope of I in IO. Waters to be used for fishing must have some steep banks to serve as shelter for the fish; also, flatter portions should be planned for spawning. Lake shores not used for bathing are designed to fit into the surroundings through the use of indigenous vegetation. By the use of these measures, suitable living conditions will be created for the fauna in the water as well as for birds. Permanent protection of the lake shore has to be achieved and biological self-purification of the water must be promoted. The construction of the lake shores with usual natural growth serves as a link between the water

Gerhard Olschowy

and the land and contributes to the natural balance of the area. The oldest artificial lakes in the southern

portion are now so well integrated into the landscape that their flora and fauna do not differ from those of natural lakes. In the lake areas, wildlife is especially rich in birds. During autumn and winter time, besides coot (FuLica atra), bittern (Botaurus stellaris) , and kingfisher (Alcedo atthis), almost all indigenous and northern duck species, e.g. teal (Anas crecca), wigeon (Anas penelope), pochard (Aytbya ferina), eider (Somateria mollissima), are found; pintail (Anas aczlta) and tufted duck (Aytba fuli- gala) are rare guests in winter, mallards (Anas plat_rbyncbos) are always there. In cold winters, many thousands of mallards stay on the greater lakes. Migrating birds from the north and the south stop over in the wood and lake area of the ‘Ville’. In the autumn of 1959, a flight of cranes (Grtrs grus) was observed staying over night in the swamp area. In December 1961, a red- throated diver (Gavia stellata) was spotted. Herons (Ardea cinerea) come every winter. In the last few years, after trout and tench were introduced, the heron population increased so much that they had to be thinned out. It is surprising to note that the lapwing ( Vanellus vanellus) belongs to the biocenosis of the ‘Kiebitz-See’. It builds its nest on gravel where the eggs are hard to see because of their colouring. As a faunis- tic rarity in this area, the common gull (Larw cams), which is indigenous at the North Sea and Baltic Sea, breeds at the ‘Franziskus-See’. In 1961, more than fifty common gulls were counted breeding on the lake’s islands. The reed beds of the lakes provide habi-

tats for species such as the great reed war- bler (Acrocephalzts arztndinacezts) , reed war- bler (A. scir-acem-), and reed bunting (Em- beriya schoenicltrs). O n all lakes, the little grebe (Podice$s rujcollis) and at least one pair of the moorhen (Gallinula chloropus) breed. The great crested grebe (Podiceps

cristattrs) was observed on the ‘Bleibtreusee’ and the ‘Berggeistsee’ for some time, but was driven away by recreation activities. Rarities are also the black-winged stilt (Himantopus himantopus) and the avocet (Recumtirostra avosetta), which live mainly in the Mediterranean region. The northern and western portion of the

Rhineland area is reclaimed for agricultural use while the central portion is increasingly afforested. In the southern portion reafforestation measures dominate. Because of the large water areas, the southern part of the mining area offers good recreation facilities for the inhabitants of the city of Cologne and the North Rhine-Westfalia industrial district. These facilities include a hilly forest totalling 644 hectares in the area of Fortu- na, Glessen, Horrem and Quadrath-Ichen- dorf, and a forest lake zone of about 2,000 hectares in the southern portion. The oldest reclaimed mining area is located in the southern portion near the cities of Bruhl and Liblar and are now protected as a ‘landscape reserve’ (Landschaftsscht~~gebiet) . Some ecologically very valuable sections, especially along water courses, have been proposed as ‘nature reserves’ (Natwxcbuq- gebiet), which means that no alterations in these areas are allowed without the permis- sion of the nature conservation authority. Access was provided through paths, shelters were built and a deer park for red and fallow deer was set up. Motor vehicles are prohibited in the recreation area. The association, ‘Erholungspark Ville e.V.’, was founded for the development and maintenance of the recreation area. The increase in traffic has to be considered in the landscape plan of the reclaimed area, as well as the right composition of forests, forest strips, hedge plantings, and shelter belts. Hiking paths connect forests, lakes, and

also farm areas which are made attractive by hedge plantings and shelter bets. Park- ing lots, beaches, lookouts, and shelters, etc., must be laid down in the plan. The recreational use of forests and also lumber-


ing have been considered in the reafforestation and restructuring of the forest areas in the southern portion. In order to have an almost natural forest, lumbering is allowed only in single cuts.

LIGNITE EXPLOITATION IN 1970

Lignite production in 1970 in the Federal Republic of Germany amounted to 108 million metric tons, representing IOO per cent, whereas in the Rhineland lignite area alone there were 93 million metric tons, or 86 per cent. Lignite consumption in 1970 in public

electric power plants amounted to 7j mil-

lion metric tons, or 70 per cent, while in other areas, mainly in briquette production, there were 33 million metric tons, or 30 per cent. Land requisition since 1878 in the Rhine-

land lignite area included I j,400 hectares while the strip-mining area in the Rhine- land included 6,300 hectares, with a reclamation total of 9,100 hectares. Agriculture reclamation in a given year

(1970) included 189 hectares, giving a total by the end of the year of about 3,400 hectares. Forest reclamation in a given year (1970) included 273 hectares, giving a total by the end of the year of 4,500 hectares.

Hubert B. Owens

Regional planning-an example from the United States

In the I ~ ~ O S , a region of the world was described as being an area where potentialities have been neglected, opportunities unrealized, where housing and education are inadequate for the large majority of the population, and the economy was quasi- colonial: This was said not of an 'under- developed' country, but was a description of approximately one-fourth of the United States, 'the South', an area comprising the

eleven states which had seceded from the Union during 1860-6j : Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas and Virginia, plus Kentucky and Oklahoma (Fig. 6). When European settlers first arrived in

the region it was described as a paradise. The Indians who inhabited it were in an early stage of agricultural development and

Hubert B. Owens

I28

also depended upon the hunting of game for much of their diet. Their effect on the environment was-as might be expected at this level of civilization-minimal. The problems of the South, which reflect the vicissitudes of its past, must be understood in terms of its history for, while these states possess much variety in their respective topographic and physical features, the people have undergone socio-economic and political developments which unified their outlook and caused the South to become a distinctive section of the United States of America. The Southern colonies were settled by

people from the British Isles between the early 1600s and 1733 when Georgia, the last of the thirteen colonies, was established. The early Southern colonies were Mary- land, Virginia, North Carolina, South Caro- lina and Georgia. They soon developed into an agrarian society which was primarily centred upon the cultivation of tobacco, rice, indigo and cotton as cash crops. After the American Revolution (I 776-8 3), cotton became the most important staple crop, with some tobacco cultivation continuing in Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee and Louisiana and rice in the tidal lands of South Carolina and Louisiana. The perfection of a cheap and efficient method of ginning at the end of the century (1793) greatly stimulated the growing of cotton. Along with the cultivation of cotton, which spread unchecked throughout the lower South, went a whole way of life. The southern gentleman saw himself as an English squire as opposed to men in the North, who were merchants, traders and mechanics. The plantation became a social and economic unit as well as a cultural one, based upon slavery. Export figures show that in 1790, the United States exported 6,400 kilograms of cotton. By 1840, this figure had risen to 876,000 million bales (I bale=yoo lb or 227.3 kg), most of it going to Great Britain. New labour-saving ideas spawned by the

industrial revolution in Europe and passed to the northern and eastern areas of the United States were little utilized by the South. The slave plantation system was extended from the south-eastern tide-water area in Virginia to Mississippi, Arkansas and the eastern third of Texas, planting and overplanting, mostly in cotton, all its arable land. Cotton did not occupy more than y o per cent of the agricultural acreage but it was the chief cash crop. Cattle grown on range, hides, cured pork, timber and naval stores were also produced for sale but not on a large scale. Small cities and towns served the planters principally as their marketing, governmental and transportation centres. Education for the masses was not pro-

vided by the government or the plantation owners. Tutors were hired by those who could afford them to teach their children. These students went on to private schools and colleges only to return to society steeped in the classics and readied for the professions of doctor, lawyer and politician, not as engineers and businessmen as did their northern counterparts. The ‘old field schools’ were established by some white yeoman farmers banding together and sharing the costs of hiring a teacher for their children and teaching them in a simple school building constructed in the fields. In I 8 I 7, Georgia set up a tuition fund for the children of the poor. This practice was followed by other states but with little enthusiasm or dedication. State monies were also used to establish academies. Prior to the Civil War, however, good schools were sporadic throughout the South. An efficient academic system just did not exist. After 1830, ‘manual labour’ schools, pat-

terned after the Hofwyl manual labour schools in Switzerland were experimented with in a number of New England and Southern states to give training in all agricultural tasks. The Swiss founder of this system noted that in his country the students in the regular schools seemed to be debilitated from a lack of sufficient exercise.

Regional plannhgan example from the United States

Along with the practical manual training, gymnastics was emphasized. The agricultural training aspect of this system did not make an impact on education in America but the gymnastic requirements did, as evidenced by the athletic programmes in high schools and universities at the present time. Emory, Mercer and Oglethorpe-now universities in the state of Georgia-began as manual labour schools in the 1830s, enabling students to work off tuition costs on the school’s farm. Although cotton and tobacco held a high

market position for a hundred years, the South’s economy was below that in the north-east in I 840. The Southern states had a population of 6.8 million, which was equal to that in the north-east. It also had an 18 per cent larger labour force including slaves, but it had 27 per cent less total income than in the north-east. The average income in the South, including slaves, was then about $39. In the north-east it was $80, but the mid-west had a mere $46 per capita income.

T H E CIVIL W A R

The flood of differences crested over and eventually erupted into the Civil W a r of 1861-6j. The first state to secede from the American Union was South Carolina on 20 December 1860. In January 1861, Mis- sissippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia and Louisiana had followed South Carolina’s lead, and later in that year Texas, Virginia, Arkansas, North Carolina and Tennessee joined the ranks to make eleven confederate states of America. It was organized as a republic where slavery would no longer be threatened, protective tariffs favouring the industrial north-east would no longer exist and agriculture would truly thrive and prosper. Many believed that economic independence from the North would be an inevitable result of secession, that Southern manufacturing would flourish, and local banking would prosper.

Despite the enthusiastic belief among many people that withdrawal from the Union would bring the benefits of freedom from bondage to the financial lords of the North as well as many other advantages, the confederacy laboured under great financial disadvantages. Southerners thought that the war would be short and that they would be victorious. The wealth of the United States before secession, however, was mainly in the North, and the South, throughout the war, did not have enough resources for taxation. The confederate government found it necessary early in the war to issue promissory notes, which soon became almost valueless. The citizens of the confederate states patriotically gave of their resources to the government, and bought government bonds with great willingness, but their best efforts could not create resources that did not exist. This war that had been fought to keep the

slavery-based agricultural system was lost by the South. With its loss the South lost productive resources. Her j. j million, mostly illiterate slaves were set free, unskilled and untrained except to farm without capital, and sent forth into a demanding society.

T H E RECONSTRUCTION PE RI013

Reconstruction w a s the process by which state governments in the defeated South were restored to the Union after this war between the states. The term is used also to cover the social, economic and political problems of the period. The victorious federal government under

republican political party control installed a military government in each of the South- ern states. Voting rights mere given to the newly freed slaves and denied to many of the white leaders. Later, civilian leaders from the North manipulated black voters and elected state legislatures favourable to their questionable programme. They were known as ‘carpet-baggers’, and the local I 29

Hubert B. Owens

white politicians co-operating with them were called ‘scalawags’. The war not only ended slavery but

wrecked the agricultural establishment of the South. It also coincided with the end of the predominance of agriculture in the economy of the United States. In most of the South, it left planters, yeoman farmers and field hands in poverty, and post-war industrial advances tended to keep them there. Higher wages, greater profits and prestige that soon became identified with industry and commerce in urban centres, lured away from the farms of the Southern capital, labour and managers urgently needed to rebuild the agricultural establishment. Control of the nation’s economy passed from the farming classes to the leaders of finance and industry. The federal government, banking establishments and even educational institutions focuyd their attention on the problems of industrial expansion and the problems of agriculture were secondary. By 1880, the average income per capita in

the north-east was $122 and, because of the war, the mid-west, at $99 was above the South at $j7, which was lower than in 1840. In 1875, New England cotton industrialists saw profit in moving their textile mills to the Southern states. For every new factory job there were scores of ignorant farm hands waiting in line for work. After the Civil War, Southern pIanters

still owned their land but needed labour to farm it. Share-cropping was born. For his labours the freed black man received a share of the harvested crop as payment. Independence did not come with freedom immediately. The planter owned the land, the mule and the horse. In industry as well as on the farm the Southern paternalism prevailed. It seemed that the Southern leaders wanted to keep political control of local and state government. In most areas of the South there was no longer a two-party system. The few republicans of the region became identified with the names ‘scala-

wags’, ‘carpet-baggers’ and other pejorative terms. The majority of Southerners still maintained white supremacy. Force and intimidation were first used to

keep the blacks away from the polls. Then ways to circumvent laws were devised and the illiterate man who owned no qualifying property and who could not afford the poll tax to vote, had to pay or stay away. At the end of the Civil War, 90 per cent of the Southern blacks were illiterate. What education they received came mostly from church missionaries and Northern philanth- ropic agencies or from the founding of the black educational centres of Fisk University (1869); Hampton Institute (1868); Clark College (1869); and Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institution, founded in I 88 I. The United States census in 1890 shows that 17 per cent of the whites and 72 per cent of the blacks over 20 years of age in the South were illiterate, compared to 7 per cent whites and 40 per cent blacks in the North. The average Southerner was not encou-

raged to make technological progress. Too few bankers, businessmen, engineers, in- ventors and mechanics were products of the Southern education system. Outsiders in these categories hesitated to migrate south- ward because of the caste system and the fact that the highest status positions in Southern societies were reserved for their own landowners, military men, lawyers, orators and politicians. Between 1865 and 1900, Georgia’s agri-

cultural people attempted some major undertakings to alleviate this unhappy situation through efforts to develop a new labour and management system; a new land-use system with diversified commercial crops and home supplies, with cotton playing a far less prominent role; application of science to management and production; and secure control of the instrument of credit, marketing and prices by means of organized pessure groups. Other states made similar efforts to re-structure their agricultural processes.


In the I~ZOS, the Mexican boll-weevil invaded the cotton fields throughout the South. This catastrophe coincided with the development of improved technology which made it possible to cultivate, with the aid of irrigation, large tracts of agricultural lands with power-driven machinery. Consequently, large acreages of farm land were opened up for cotton production in Oklahoma, western Texas and the south- western states where it could be produced cheaper than in the old South. The heritage of continuous cultivation of the row-crop system in raising cotton for I ~ O years had resulted in soil depletion, erosion and low incomes for most of the population. In many respects the South had problems anal- ogous to former colonies which are now independent states.

PRES I D E N T R 0 0 S EVE L T ’ S P R 0 G R A bl hf E

When Franklin D. Roosevelt became president in 1933 he declared the South to be America’s economic problem number one. A National Economy Emergency Council was created. This council’s report was released in 1938. It stated ‘. . . only economic integration with the nation as a whole could cure the South and close the North-South gap.’ The council determined that such integration could only be accomplished by federal action. The report called for the following action by the federal government: greater federal expenditures for public works ; resource development and relief; more favourable credit facilities, especially for agriculture; correction of the discriminatory freight-rate and tariff policies which had always been decidedly unfavourable to the South. The recommended measures in the report

were adopted as national policy and spectacular changes ensued. Basic problems of southern agriculture were attacked. These included changes in land tenure, improvements in farm credit, and the provision of marketing research and other services.

These changes were brought about in the South through federal legislation, the purpose of which was to correct the tenure and technology of agriculture and to increase its productivity. Programmes of supervised rural credit and other aids to the lowest- income farmers, as well as broader efforts of research in the use of chemical fertilizers and plant and animal breeding, soil conservation and price supports have brought improving and radical changes in the patterns of agriculture in the South.

EDUCATION

Secondary and university education gradually improved in the South after the beginning of the twentieth century, especially for the white population. The Southern political leaders’ policy of providing Negroes with ‘separate but equal’ educational facilities continued until mid-century, when integration of the races in the nation’s educational, social and economic life became the law of the land. At first there was considerable opposi-

tion, especially in the 1950s and early 1960s, but the public schools and state-operated colleges and universities in the South were peacefully integrated by 1974. Since the Second World War many progressive changes have been made. A two-party political system has emerged; most of the Southern states have undergone substantial administrative re-organization; new leaders are emerging in politics, business, religion, education and other fields, who think in bold and imaginative terms about social problems and the possibilities of improving the quality of community life. During the past five years, the South has had a greater rate of migration of population into the region than that of any other region. The per capita disposable income has improved greatly, although in 1970 it was still approximately 20 per cent below the national average. By 1974, although some isolated areas of poverty in the rapidly urbanizing

Hubert B. Owens

South remained, yet the thirteen-state region as a whole was enjoying the highest standard of living it had ever experienced.

T H E N E W SOUTH

The last quarter of a century has brought rapid and liberating change to the South-change more fundamental than in any other region of the United States. There is a new South. A second reconstruction period with

more profound implications than that of the late 1860s and 1870s has occurred. Many white southerners found it painful, because it overturned ancient racial .mores. Today, the black population of the South enjoys more liberties than at any time since it came to America. Now that the voting right of black citizens is firmly established, their voting power is a reality and is giving them the opportunity of sharing in the overall political, economic, cultural and spiritual life of the United States. This profound change has also freed the whites. While a third of the Southern people were denied the most fundamental liberties and opportunities, all the people were shackled to the practices and customs of the past. As the black Southerner develops and progresses in this new environment of freedom and opportunity, so does the white Southerner. Experts agree that a century of economic

depression in the South is ending with a rapid change from agriculture to industry, and with it a change from a rural to an urban society and from unskilled to skilled labour. During the past half-century, several cities of the South have developed into distinctive metropolises and are functioning as the nerve centres any society needs for progressive economic and intellectual activity.

G R O W T H OF CITIES

All the Southern cities which serve as state capitals have undergone marked growth in

population and physical change since the great depression of the 1930s. Today, all of these cities, as well as several others in the states which once constituted the Southern confederacy, have slight resemblance to their appearance of fifty years ago due to so many high-rise buildings having replaced earlier structures, increased vehicular traffic, one-way streets, paved inter-state highways cutting through the central city, countless television aerials, airports which accommodate large jetliners, and greatly increased commercial and industrial activity. The beginning of 1976 sees racism dimi-

nished, industry moving in, an acceleration of cross-migration of people, open political participation by both blacks and whites, and a rising educational standard. In attaining these levels of progress the South, fortunately, has lost the one-horse farm, the share-cropper, one-party politics, the poll tax, the white primary (for elections) and the Jim Crow car. The growth and development of Atlanta,

Georgia, today’s key city of the south-east, has been phenomenal. It was established in the 1840s on land which had been ceded by the Indians to the state of Georgia in 1821. It was located at the terminus of a railway line from the Atlantic Coast which connected with a newly built railway from Chatta- nooga, Tennessee, the first line to connect the Deep South with the mid-western states. Its strategic location made it the major distribution point for the region’s agrarian economy. In 1860, Atlanta had a population of

7,741 with an additional 3,83 I in the county (Fulton), 71 per cent white. Near the end of the Civil War it was burned to the ground by the Northern army. This well-situated city of Atlanta, however, rose phoenix-like from the ashes and was soon rebuilt. It never lost its position as the South‘s leading distribution city but made steady progress through the years. The last fifty years has seen this city expand in all directions. Ac- cording to Philip Hammer, one of the


South’s leading economists, Atlanta’s position is based on more than its location, although that is still vital.

It is based rather upon a new set of essential functions in an increasingly complex industrial structure . . . the ‘central work’ functions of business, industry, finance, and government that cannot be duplicated anywhere else. N o other city in the region occupies or duplicates Atlanta’s role as the spark plug, catalyst, gene- rator, service center, financier, clearing house, trading point, policy-maker and pace-setter for the region’s new economy.

Atlanta has no natural boundaries, no large bodies of water or mountains to constrain its growth, so its suburbs have grown without hindrance in all directions. Greater Atlanta, which includes downtown and the seven contiguous counties, had an estimated population of 1,684,000 on I January 1976. Like all large cities today Atlanta has its fiscal and physical problems. With its progressive leadership under Maynard Jackson, the first black mayor in a city in the United States which is a state capital, and a corps of well-qualified white and black leaders from all fields available to assist him, these problems are not insurmountable. To those who have witnessed Atlanta’s

growth and prosperity during the past twenty-five years it is ‘the magical city’. Downtown Atlanta has become a city of soaring skyscrapers. Sixteen of its tallest buildings (twenty stories or more) have been constructed in the past ten years. Peachtree Center, a $zjo million-plus development includes a new I,Ioo-room, 723- feet-high hotel-the tallest in the world, which opened in January 1976. Some of the land now occupied by two interstate highways and skyscrapers along the rim of the downtown area is a former slum zone cleared by urban renewal in recent years. Air passenger and freight traffic has

reached the point where the Atlanta Muni- cipal Airport is now the second busiest in the world. The Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid

Transit Authority (MARTA) is building a fifty-mile rapid railway system. The new Atlanta plan combines integrated public transportation, innovative financing and service and many consider it to be probably the best ever devised in the United States. A number of its features are likely to be copied by other American cities in the 1970s. It is a $1,300 million capital programme-the largest works project in the South since the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA) was created. Following is a report on the development

and accomplishment of TVA in a region located within the South, and information on the functioning of regional councils which have been established in most Sou- thern states since the Second World War. The story of the TVA region can, in a broad sense, be regarded more or less as an indication of the progress made in all the thirteen Southern states during this same period. The New Deal of the depression years in the 1930s, which involved federal financing and administration in co-operation with state and local governments, brought many social and economic benefits throughout the nation, the results of which are now being realized.

THE TENNESSEE VALLEY AUTHORITY- A N EXAMPLE OF REGIONAL PLANNING I N A SEVEN-STATE AREA OF THE SOUTHERN UNITED STATES

The first European settlers who came to America in the early seventeenth century and those who followed for the next zoo years expected the natural resources of the land-water, forests, fish and game-to be inexhaustible. Gradually, following the settlement of the land on the Atlantic sea- board, the United States became the scene of widespread misuse and waste of these resources. They considered trees to be ob- stacles that had to be removed to provide agricultural land and to reach mineral deposits. The Tennessee River and its tributaries

Hubert B. Owens

Plate 37 A n example of badly eroded land in the Tennessee Valley in the 1930s. (Photo : Tennessee Valley Authority.)

'34

Regional planningan example from the United States

Plate j8 The 1937 flood in Paducah, Kentucky (United States). The Tennessee River flows into the Ohio River at the city and erosion contributed to rapid runoffs.

Hubert B. Owens

comprised a watershed system, two-thirds of which were situated in a hilly and mountainous terrain, which resulted in erosion on a vast scale and frequent floods (Plate 37). The Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA),

established by an Act of the United States Congress, has come to be recognized as an outstandingly significant example of regional planning in the United States. Created as a federal corporation in 1931, it was planned to co-ordinate resources in overcoming intrinsic problems of poverty and inadequate opportunity. The total area included in the Tennessee

River Valley is approximately four-fifths the size of England and includes portions of the following states : Tennessee, Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Missis- sippi and Kentucky. Its topography is diversified with peaks up to 1,500 metres in height in the Appalachian chain of mountains, rolling hills and flat plains. This area in the early 1930s was one of the most neglected and backward regions of the United States. Among its resources were two large nitrate plants and the Wilson Dam at Muscle Shoals, Alabama, which had been built under the National Defense Act of 1916 but were not completed in time for use in the First World War. The act transferred them from the War Department to TVA. The new corporation represented a great

change in national policy through the cen- tralization of authority. Prior to 1938, responsibility for various projects in the valley rested on a number of different governmental agencies. The United States army engineers had the responsibility of improving navigation on the rivers. Agriculture was handled by Department of Agriculture and forest conservation by the Interior Department. Thus, the creation of TVA placed in the hands of one agency, responsible only to the president and congress, the task of advancement in the fields of conservation and development resources.

The author of TVA recognized that all conservation problems are inseparably related : forest practices, streams and watcr navigation, water power and flood control, minerals, fish and game. This philosophy was incorporated into the legislation which created the authority.

Foro-two years of progress, 1933-71 The people of the Tennessee Valley have experienced during the four decades since the authority was established changes as rapid and far reaching as any that have ever taken place in the United States. From a forlorn landscape of eroded row-crop farms and neglected forests, the region has been transformed into one of green, well- managed fields of diversified crops, pastures, forests and beautiful lakes which attract millions of visitors annually. Through education TVA led the people into making many of these changes themselves. A primary objective of TVA develop-

ment was the large amount of hydroelectric power that could be realized from the same dams providing flood control and navigation (Plate 38). Congress had arranged for studies showing this possibility a number of years before it passed the law creating TVA. Before 1933, only two major dams had been constructed on the Tennessee River and eight on its tributaries (Plate 39). Since that time, twenty-three major dams and twenty-seven minor structures have been built. A total of fifty dams comprise the river control system (Fig. 7 a,

These developments, combined with improved methods of reafforestation, have contributed greatly to the reduction of floods which had become a constant threat to cities and industries located along the river. The cost of building and operating the flood control system over the years has been approximately $268 million. It is estimated that flood damage prevented during this time in the Tennessee Valley, the lower

b).

Regional planningan example from the United States

Plate 39 TVA’s Iliwassee Dam in western North Carolina (United States), which was started in 1936. The multiple-purpose dam impounds a lake 35.2 kilometres long. It is about IOO metres in height and 400 metres in length, and generates I I 7,000 kilowatts of electricity. During periods of low power consumption, the generators can be reversed as pumps to lift water back into the reservoir. (Pboto : Tennessee Valley Authority.)

Hubert B. Owens

(A) Aluminum Company of America dam (C) Corps of Engineers dam

Tirns For

Cumberland River

------I

FIG. 7 (a). The flood control system was the first priority in the TVA programme and resulted in the construction of a series of dams. Since the completion of the system there has not been a serious flood.


Misslssippi Fort Loudoun 815

Paducah FIG. 7 (6). Profile of the Tennessee River (all mainstream dams have navigation locks).

Ohio and the Mississippi rivers exceeds $1,370 million. The dams made possible the creation of a

commercial deep-water navigation channel extending from the confluence of the Ten- nessee River with the Ohio River at Padu- cah, Kentucky, extending to I<noxville, Tennessee, situated near the base of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, 610 miles to the south-east. The limiting depth of the natural stream had a latitude o€ only four feet to eighteen inches, and traffic was less than a million tons a year

(Plate 40 a, b). Today, Tennessee River commerce exceeds 17 million tons annually and is connected to trade in twenty-one states served by the inland waterway system. One of the TVA policies is emphasis on

the elimination of wasteful uses of electricity. To this effect, TVA and its retail distri- butors have offered advice to power customers, architects, contractors and engineers on the most eficient ways of using and installing electrical equipment and applian- ces. Customers are encouraged to conserve '39

Hubert B. Owens

energy and save power costs by improving the power factor in each individual plant- whether it is a factory or a home. Although in the beginning most of

TVA's power came from the hydroelectric plants at its dams and the future trend is towards nuclear power, the major portion of power on the TVA system is at present produced at large coal-fired steam plants (Plate 41). The agency is not without problems; the burning of coal in power plants presents difficult environmental problems. Since 1966, TVA has been upgrading pollution control of its steam plants. Some success has been made but, as air pollution increases and laws change, so new standards must be met. Alabama, Kentucky, and Tennessee-the three states where TVA has coal-burning steam plants-have their own air pollution control agencies. TVA has submitted to these agencies its plans and timetables for bringing the fly ash and sulphur dioxide pollution under control in 1973. Electrostatic ash collectors and experimental scrubbers for sulphur dioxide removal are still in various stages of planning. Some have been used with efficiency, some have created further problems. TVA is still testing to achieve the greatest efficiency so that its findings can be adapted to similar situations elsewhere in the United States and throughout the world. Only three farms in a hundred in the

Tennessee Valley were served with electricity in 1933. Today every farm family is served or can be served if it wishes (Plate 42 a, b). Less than ZZJ,OOO homes then had electric service; now there are over z million. In 1933, home users of electricity paid an average of 5.7 cents a kilowatt-hour for electricity, more than the national average. In the fiscal year 197j, they paid 1.76 cents, about j8 per cent of the national average. By the 1960s, the region's average residential rate had dropped to about one cent per kilowatt- hour with expanded use and more efficient production and distribution. With the rapid

increase in power system costs in recent years (particularly for fuel) that average in mid-1975 was about z cents in the TVA area, or two-thirds of the national average. Four decades ago, owners of property

used for electric power purposes in the TVA region paid less than $3.~ million a year to state and local governments in taxes. As the federal government is not taxed by local and state governments they received, instead of taxes, $71 million on utility operations during the fiscal year I97j. Agriculture, from one generation to an-

other, consisted mainly of the row-crop method of production of corn, cotton and tobacco which resulted in widespread soil erosion. Prior to 1933 farmers purchased fertilizer by the weight of the bag and the smell of its contents. During the first year of its existence, TVA consulted with the state agricultural colleges and experiment stations of the seven-state region and the United States Department of Agriculture on fertilizer needs. In 1934, the long-idle munitions facilities at Muscle Shoals were converted to fertilizer production. Out of this grew the National Fertilizer Develop- ment Center at Muscle Shoals which has contributed immeasurably to the production of improved fertilizers and processes for making them throughout the United States. The plant nutrient content has more than doubled, from about 20 per cent to 43 per cent. At the same time, the average cost per unit of nutrient used has decreased approximately one-third since I 95 0 while other farming costs have advanced. Gross amount of farm sales has increased ninefold (Plate 43). The magnitude of these developments on

agriculture has been revolutionary. Corn acreage is down 85 per cent but yields per acre are up zzo per cent; cotton acreage decreased 61 per cent and yields increased 70 per cent. Eroded hillsides have been replaced by pastures and the value of livestock sold in the Tennessee Valley has in-


creased 1,400 per cent. Soy beans were little known in the Tennessee Valley and the entire South until recent years. Soy bean production has become the region’s most important crop; 800,000 acres produced 18.5 million bushels in the calendar year 1972. The once neglected forest resources are

now scientifically managed and protected. Forest fires once burned IO per cent of the Tennessee Valley’s woodlands annually. Today state agencies protect 99 per cent of the area and the average yearly loss to fire is less than I per cent. Tennessee Valley forests supply raw materials for a $1,000 million forest products industry, providing more than 50,ooo jobs with annual payrolls exceeding $260 million. Prior to the construction of the dams and

reservoirs, recreation facilities on the un- derdeveloped Tennessee River consisted only of the fishing skiff and the cane pole. Reservoir developments have resulted in 11,000 miles of shore-line. During its first decade of operation, TVA built a few demonstration park and recreation facilities to encourage and point the way towards good design and management practice in recreation site planning and development, and to emphasize the great potential the region afforded for leisure-time recreational activities for its inhabitants and for visitors. The authority continued to encourage state, local and private recreational facilities on the lakes. Over a hundred public parks line the banks and twenty-four wildlife management areas attract ducks and geese by the hundreds of thousands. Vacationers and sportsmen from all over the United States enjoy a wide range of facilities from fishing camps to parks, marinas, resorts and summer and retirement homes. The investment in the recreational facilities amounts to $48; million. There are now more than 60 million recreation visitors to the region a year. (Plate 44). Forty years ago, agriculture was respon-

sible for 62 per cent of the region’s employ-

ment; in 1971, only 6 per cent. Manufactur- ing, which accounted for only 12 per cent of the jobs, now employs 3 2 per cent of the region’s workers. More than 6,000 new industries have been created which provide employment for 800,000 persons. Per capita income has risen from $168 per year, which was 45 per cent of the national average, to $3,365, approximately 75 per cent of the national average in 1975.

Education TVA’s interest in education and training has been closely linked to its substantive programmes from their inception. Two of the first major projects undertaken after the establishment of the authority were the construction of Norris Dam, and a new town adjacent to the dam site which was also named Norris in honour of Congress- man George Norris, the author of the TVA bill. At this early stage TVA built schools, established libraries and made these facilities available to local authorities. At the present time, TVA’s concern with

education is directed along three principal lines. One is to aid education by giving technical and financial assistance in the improvement of public school systems, higher education (college and university) and other traditional elements of public education. The second main area of concern is man-

power training. This embraces remedial education and training, vocational or skill training, or other activities designed to prepare people for the labour market. Special attention is given to training which will improve the employability of disadvantaged persons, to promoting equal access to opportunities for minorities, and to stimulat- ing the involvement of local groups in manpower programmes. In this category, an innovative effort on the part of TVA, related to the forest resources of the region, is a project to determine the need for a regional training school for timber-harvcst- ing managers and the extent of the timber

Hubert B. Owens

Plate 40 (a) Typical river scene before the construction

of the system of dams. There was little commercial traffic and short-haul bulk items such as sand and gravel were the principal cargoes.


(b) Navigation is the second important responsibility of T V A . The authority operates barge lines carrying a wide variety of cargoes, using modern tow boats and navigation facilities.

(Photos : Tennessee Valley Authority.)

Hubert B. Owens


industry’s willingness to finance such a programme and to provide business opportunities for graduates. TVA’s third important area of educa-

tional concern has been in the field of conservation education. This is the kind of teaching which enables schoolchildren and college students to grow up with a knowledge of man’s intricate and delicate environment and the interrelationship of resources which must be kept in balance. The TVA has had a continuing programme of this nature from its early years. The test demonstration programme among farmers, which resulted in contour ploughing, strip farming and the healing of countless gullies of erosion, was primarily an adult education effort carried on through the land grant agricultural colleges. Farmers had learned only too well the destructive relationship between land and water which caused erosion of the soil by heavy rains; they then learned the productive relationship between plant fertilizers and cover crops which conserved both soil and moisture and permit- ted pasture agriculture. For far too many years small communities

in all seven states have been disposing of their wastes and trash in undesignated dumps. TVA entered this field, too, with an assistance programme to develop public disposal systems because of the apparent lack of knowledge concerning proper location of landfills. Just any open field cannot serve. Certain characteristics of geology and drainage are necessary, and there must be sufficient earth to cover the waste. Proper management of such fills can create con-

4 Plate 41 Cumberland steam plant, on the shore of Lake Barkley near Cumberland City, Tennessee (United States), is the largest coal-fired plant in the TVA system with a total capacity of 2.6 million kilowatts in two generating units. Construction began in March 1968, and the units were placed in operation during 1973. (Photo : Tennessee Valley Authority.)

structive uses, such as industrial sites or playgrounds. TVA also holds demonstra- tions concerning the compacting of unsightly, large discarded items such as automobiles. TVA encourages and, when feasible, aids in re-cycling and helps to educate the communities and offers them physical assistance with their heavy equipment, until they can purchase and operate their own.

Conclilsion

Today the Tennessee Valley Authority is well established and is generally considered a success. It is the only example of such comprehensive, large-scale regional planning in the United States, and is not likely to be duplicated. A number of proposals for more regional authorities were made in Congress during the 1930s and 1940s but their sponsors were not successful in get- ting such bills enacted. TVA was an extreme departure from es-

tablished arrangements €or natural resource development. The existence of the federally owned Wilson Dam and munitions plants at Muscle Shoals was a unique situation, and following the First World War, Con- gress was faced with the question: should the Muscle Shoals properties be owned and operated by a public corporation created expressly for that purpose? A congressional majority voted affirmatively, but this did not mean that river-basin development generally should be denied existing federal construction agencies and turned over to new, self-governing corporations. Review- ing the action and subsequent developments in retrospect, it is not clear that congress understood in 1933 that it was granting autonomous authority to TVA. A large measure of TVA’s success during the forty-two years of its existence, however, has been due to the scope of its authority and its freedom of control. It is impossible to determine the benefi-

cial influence of TVA in its own territory and the adjoining Southern states as well as

Hubert B. Owens


4 Plate 42

(a) Ninety-seven per cent of the region’s farms were once without electricity and scenes such as this were common.

(b) As the result of the construction of multiple-purpose dams, rural electrification programmes became widespread and industrial development was encouraged.

(Photos : Tennessee Valley Authority.) I47

Hubert B. Owens

c


4 Plate 43 TVA was given responsibility for the operation of the Muscle Shoals nitrate plants which were used to produce experimental fertilizers. Extension TVA demonstration farms led to highyiclding cash crops on a few of the best acres earning more income than the amount formerly obtained from the entire farm. (Photo : Tennessee Valley Authority.)

Plate 44 The series of lakes created by dam construction has contributed to recreational activities. Boating, fishing and camping which were nearly non-existent now assume the dimensions of an industry. An estimated 3.6 million kilograms of game fish (bass, pike and crappie) are taken by sports fishermen and 3.G million kilograms of commercial fish (catfish, drum, spoonbill, etc.) by licensed commercial fishermen.

I49

Hubert B. Owens

all the United States and the world. Con- gress finally came to regard this resource development undertaking as a significant experiment and has consistently supported it. TVA, through federal financial assistance with its countless demonstration projects, has shown how the people of a region can work together and share responsibility in the building of a better social, economic and political life. Countless visitors have been guests of the headquarters office in Knoxville, Tennessee, through the years seeking technical information on various phases of development work such as hydroelectric dams, strip-mining reclamation, agricultural fertilizers, forest resource practices, wildlife management, road-side development, erosion control, tourism and recreation, and the blending of urban needs with rural beauty. These guests have been provided with lectures by experts and exhi- bits at the main office and taken on tours to see examples of their special interest. Since I 941, the Muscle Shoals Fertilizer Center has become a place of world-wide interest in fertilizer technology. TVA is facing the growing environmen-

tal challenge in its own operations and its regional work. Its budget for the fiscal year 1776 included $zlj million for: upgrading air-pollution control facilities at its coal- burning steam plants; improvements in fly- ash control equipment; construction of a full-scale experimental ‘scrubber’ installa- tion for sulphur dioxide removal on a large kilowatt-generating unit, to help in developing this technology; strip-mining reclamation to comply with federal regulations; assistance to local governments in closing dumps, establishing sanitary landfill operations, and setting up solid waste collection facilities to serve rural areas. The extraordinary organization of TVA’s

unified resource development programme permits many opportunities of bringing together combinations of experienced specialists in different fields of agriculture, hydrology, forestry, chemistry, biology,

power production, air and water quality, civil engineering and public health to solve environmental problems. The United States desires a liveable envi-

ronment and wants its people to have the opportunity of earning a decent living. There are some conflicts between these two goals which have become evident in the immediate past and which most Americans are beginning to appreciate. TVA is well aware of its responsibilities in this regard and is now rallying to its continued role of leadership for the region’s economic health and the conservation of its natural resources. It is working to find the answers.

REGIONAL COUNCILS-A NEW GOVERNMENTAL TREND IN THE SOUTH

Since the end of the Second World War, rapid growth and modernization of the United States have brought with them a mobile and demanding public which is involved daily with a number of local governments. There has been a growing awareness of the need for co-operative activity by people living in areas where they are subjected to a multiplicity of governmental agencies and bureaux. Advocates of stronger local government have increasingly given their attention to regional approaches for solving governmental problems. The increase in scale of problems of

transportation, law enforcement, economic development, extension of sewage facilities, and pollution control has made this larger scope of interest unavoidable. The response to giving emphasis to urban or rural problems from a regional, or at least a sub- regional (multi-county) viewpoint, has been slow, but the trend is now definite. A large amount of this response has been

centred in the South. The metropolitan areas of the nation, including the South, have experienced an explosive population growth. Florida grew at a 37 per cent rate in the 1960s, compared to the national rate


Plate 41 Atlanta, the prosperous capital of the state of Georgia (United States) which is typical of urban development in the new South. (Photo : Don Nolan, Atlanta, Georgia.)

Hubert B. Owens

of 13.3 per cent. Population experts estimate that in 198 5 there will be a 40 per cent increase in population over 1960-an estimated 252 million people in the nation. This increase will occur mostly in the sub- urban ring of existing metropolitan areas. The shift of a large majority of the nation’s people into metropolitan areas does not mean that all major regions are equally metropolitan. The 1970 census showed the north-east to be the most metropolitan-79.1 per cent, while the South was the least-48.1 per cent. Projections based on the 1970 census indicate that the South will receive the largest share of the population growth projected for the nation from 1965 to 1985-22 million of the projected national growth of 70 million (Plate 41). The South, as a region in the post-

Second World W a r period, has demonstrat- ed an active interest in regional approaches to urban and rural problems. There have been some significant city-county mergers and simplification of some governmental situations through adoption of annexation policies allowing cities to annex by ordi- nance. A newer and more promising trend, however, has been the recent development of strong, state-supported regional (multi- county) councils sustaining regional approaches to solving problems. The cost of local government is climb-

ing, making it practical and sometimes essential for local officials to pool planning and development efforts for economy and efficiency, and to bring their combined resources to bear on common problems. A region is an assemblage of neighbour-

ing local communities whose inhabitants are joined as a unit economically, socially and geographically but lack governmental unity. The regional approach represents an effort to form planning and programming

mechanisms, which relates these new regional communities and their challenges. Since 1960, regional councils have been

formed in many parts of the United States and are operating in all but five or six states. And in some states such as Geor- gia they operate throughout the state. In 1976, there are eighteen area planning and development commissions-regional councils comprised of groups of contiguous counties-operating in Georgia. All the 159 counties in the state are members of such a commission. Although a comparatively new concept

in local government in the South and the nation, the regional councils have begun to exert an important influence on such matters as land use policy; intelligent use and conservation of natural resources ; transportation ; governmental re-organization; industrial and agricultural growth; education, health service; housing; race relations ; historic preservation; tourism; and other facets of community life. The success of the Interstate Tennessee Valley Authority experiment and accomplishments in large- scale regional planning from 1933 to 1976 have served as models and have had a guid- ing influence in the establishment and administration of the smaller and more localized area planning and development commissions throughout the Southern states. These regional councils do not exercise

the autonomy of TVA. The commissions serve as an advocate and policy body representing area planning and development in their respective states. The enthusiastic manner in which they have been accepted by political business and professional leaders, as well as the general public, can be interpreted as a steering in the right direction towards a progressive future of accom- plis hment .


BIBLIOGRAPHY

BONNER, James C. A Histoty of Georgia Agricd- titre 17jz-r86o. Athens, Georgia, The Uni- versity of Georgia Press, 1954.

1970 Censits of Popzilatioii. Washington, D.C., Bureau of the Census.

EDWARDS, Ererette E. American Agricul- ture-The First 300 Years, Farmers in a Changing World, Yearbook of Agrictrltiire r94o. Washington, D.C., United States De- partment of Agriculture.

Enqclopedza Americaiia. Annual editions. New York, Americana Corporation.

From Sea to Shining Sea-A Report 011 the Anieri- can Envirniinzeiit-Our Nat~ral Heritage. Washington, D.C., President's Council on Recreation and Natural Beauty, 1968.

I'll Take M-r Sfand: The South atid the Agrarian Tradition. Tivelzre Southerners. New York and London, Harper 81 Brothers, 1930.

MORISON, Samuel Eliot. The Oxford Hisfoyv of the Americati People. New York, Oxford Uni- versity Press, 1965.

NICHOLLS, William H. Snirtheril Tradition and Rezionaf Progress. Chapel Hill, The University of North Carolina Press, 1919.

ODUM, Howard W. Southerti Reziniis of the United States. Chapel Hill, The University of North Carolina Press, 1936.

PEIRCE, Neal R. The Deep South States of _4meri- cn : People, Politics, and Pouier it2 the Ser'eu Deep South States. New York, W. VI'. Norton 8; Co., '974.

RANGE, W'illard. -4 Cenfugl of Georgia Ayid ttrre, 18~0-1960. Athens, Georgia, The Uni- versity of Georgia Press, 1914.

TANG, Anthony M. Erono~~zic Deoelopmewt in the Southerti Piedmont 1860-19~0. Chapel Hill, The University of North Carolina Press, '958.

Tennessee Valley Authority. Annual Reports, Bulletins, articles and photographs. Knox- ville, Tennessee.

These United States-Our Nation's Geography, Histoty and People. Pleasantville, N. Y., Rea- der's Digest Association.

VANCE, Robert V.; DEMERATH, Nicholas J. (eds.). The Urban Soid. Chapel Hill, The Uni- versity of North Carolina Press, 1954. WOODWARD, C. Vann. OrigitJs of the New South

187pr9.13. Baton Rouge, Louisiana State University Press, 1911. lrol. IX of Wendel Holmes Stephenson and E. Merton Coulter (eds.) A Hisfoty of the South.

PERSONS INTERVIE\VED, 1974-7 j

BRABILETTE, Gene A., Vice President for Ex- tension and Public Service, Auburn Univer- sity, Auburn, Alabama.

KIMBRELL, Monroe, President, Federal Reserve Bank of Atlanta, Georgia.

MELVIN, Ernest E., Director, Institute of Com- munity and Area Development, University of Georgia, Athens, Georgia.

ROBB, Felix C., Director, Southern Association of Colleges and Schools, Atlanta, Georgia.

SHEPPEARD, Lee C., Assistant Director of In- formation, Tennessee Valley Authority, Knoxville, Tennessee.

SP~RER, Burton E., Governmental Program Planning Associate, Institute of Govern- ment, University of Georgia, Athens, Geor- gia.

TABOR, Paul, Professor Emeritus of Agrono- my, College of Agriculture, University of Georgia, Athens, Georgia.

Christopher Tunnard

Landscape reclamation in the United States

The man-made as distinct from the natural landscape of the United States is already extensive and is growing ‘by leaps and bounds’. That last phrase is exactly descrip- tive; one is never sure where public or private works, residential developments, shopping centres, highways or power lines may suddenly appear. Subdivisions eat into the deserts of the south-west, an oil pipeline is planned to stretch across Alaska, mega- ports threaten coastal reservations, and ski- lifts with their accompanying hotels stick up above the skyline in Vermont and Colo- rado. It is unrealistic nowadays to think of the landscape in terms of vast natural forests, waving prairie grasses and untouched mountain scenery. Here, as elsewhere, the winds of pollution are blowing and the noise of the jet-propelled aeroplane can be heard in the depths of the wilderness. H o w has North America reacted? In

many ways, quite well. Not only is there a national environmental protection agency, but the individual states have such agencies also. The Clean Waters Act and its amendments have set target dates for the nation’s river systems to be purified. There is an honourable tradition of conservation in both the United States and Canada; both have national and state or provincial parks; in the United States, which is the subject of this article, there are now over thirty national parks, many of vast size, as well as some zoo other types of reservation admi- nistered by the National Park Service, including national sea-shores such as famous

Cape Hatteras. The forest service, too, holds millions of acres and conducts an extensive recreation programme. Remote aeras have been officially designated as wilderness and wildlife protection is in an advanced stage, employing thousands of rangers and wardens. These undoubted achievements should be no cause for com- placency, however, for where man has been left to his own devices the shock of accelerated development and mounting waste has at last been seen to require measures different from mere conservation and preservation. The depletion of resources, the conversion of the cities into ‘monstrous heat and dust domes’ and the phenomenon of ‘dead lakes’ have sounded fearful warn- ings which are being heeded by increasing numbers of Americans, both in and out of politics. While w e look to Thoreau for teaching

conservation and Frederick Law Olmsted for the value of public parks and reservations, it is important to acknowledge George Perkins Marsh as the father of reclamation in the United States. H e was a native of Vermont, who became the first minister plenipotentiary to the new Italian kingdom in 1861. His motto was ‘Restore and Maintain the Earth‘ and his book M a n and Nature : or, Physical Geography as Modi- jed b_y H u m a n Action (1864) advanced the notion that nature did not heal itself after man’s destructive actions but became a wasteland incapable of regeneration without help. This was in contrast to the prevalent

9

‘55

Christopher Tunnard

notion, still held in some circles, that nature somehow repaired its own ravages, natural or man-made. Marsh would have been particularly pleased to find his words echoed in the new Clean Waters Act of the United States Congress (1972). ‘The objective of this Act,’ reads the preamble, ‘is to restore and maintain the chemical, physical and biological integrity of the Nation’s waters.’ Marsh insisted on the planting of new forests and applauded the Dutch in their making fertile land which had once been under the sea, as well as the Italians for drying up the Pontine marshes by planting eucalypti. Long after Marsh‘s time the United

States employed new methods of reclamation. It was in the New Deal days that shelter-belts to control dust erosion in Ok- lahoma and Texas made their appearance, while farmers were taught contour ploughing and the making of artificial ponds and lakes to hold the water. More recently in midwestern states like Kansas, chains of large new lakes have provided recreational sites for all-day outings of urban families, while in New England provision of well- engineered dry dams in narrow valleys to control flooding have often been accompanied by swimming and boating facilities. Reacting to crises is an old story in a

country which has had its share of soil depletion, flooding, violent and destructive hurricanes, forest fires and urban holo- causts. Less intense and immediate has been reaction to the decay of cities, problems of waste disposal, the extractive process and the development of power facilities, which have been taken for granted as part of the price w e pay for ‘progress’. Probably the most widespread reaction has taken place in the field of mineral resources, notably in the surface mining of coal, which has made drastic changes in the earth‘s surface, frequently in close proximity to human habitation. This is discussed below. Most reclamation work has been done in

agriculture, forestry and park land, remote

from the built-up centres. Restoration of the soil for crops and the re-planting of trees in afforestation have become common practice. However, the urbanizing uses which are now frequently to be found are making new demands on our ingenuity as husbandmen. These uses range far from the central cities and include second homes of urban dwellers, retirement ‘villages’ and new forms of manufacturing or industrial research. Factories, for instance, which began in the late eighteenth century far out in the fields and woods of New England near sources of water power, are now moving out again to former farm land, where easy access on new highways and modern power supply make production less closely tied to the old centres than formerly quite feasible. All new uses on untouched land, or land

which has been developing its own succession of plant cover for some time, are bound to change the composition of biotic communities. They may shift the succession back to more primitive conditions, may remove one type of vegetation in favour of another, or, in extreme cases create conditions unfavourable to any form of life. Mil- lions of acres of wetland have been drained to provide sites for industry or maritime trade. Until fairly recently these acres were regarded by the population as wasteland of little or no use to anyone, or to be converted perhaps into marinas. It is a sign of changing opinion and greater knowledge that the United States, as well as other countries, is moving towards wetland conservation in areas which G. P. Marsh said 100 years ago acted like a sponge to regu- late the waters, and which science has now shown to be vital to many forms of aquatic life. Supposed in Marsh‘s day to be of interest only to the occasional sportsman, not only are the graminoid wetlands of the North Atlantic being preserved, but inland swamps and bogs are being protected under the new wetlands preservation acts passed by various states of the Union.


Education of the public in these matters takes time. However, private development on private land is subject to more restric- tions than formerly. One must remember that in the United States, a country long dedicated to the proposition that individual or corporate ownership of land in fee simple is the most desirable kind of proprietor- ship, controls over other than the public domain were rare until fifty years ago. Simi- larly, public agencies are being subjected to stronger controls than before. A clause in the Environmental Protection Act, for instance, requires environmental impact studies to be made on any major project in which federal funds are involved. Since these funds are always involved in interstate highways, atomic power plants and other public utilities, to date, many wetlands and woodlands have been saved by the invoca- tion of this clause on the part of aroused citizen groups and wildlife societies. The scarifying effect of strip mining is

well known in the United States, particularly in the eastern and central states, where the acreage affected has been over four times as great as in the Federal Republic of Germany and the German Democratic Republic combined. Yet in Europe, it is freely acknowledged that afforestation projects in areas affected by bituminous strip- ping have been more impressive in the United States [I].~ While it is difficult to convert strip-mined areas into field crop or meadow land, forms of woodland can quickly be established in parts of tEe country which have moderate rainfall, especially by using pioneer trees such as the black locust, a leguminous tree which does not need hnmus in the soil in order to survive. Land intended for pasture can have cover crops consisting of vetches like Coronilla varia oi- Medicngo sativa, which also have the above-mentioned propensity. Recently, the

I. Figures in brackets relate to sources given in ‘References’ at the end of this Chapter.

European black and grey alders which seed and spread rapidly have been found useful as shelter trees for the more permanent species of natural succession (Plate 46 a, 6). Reclamation of this kind is accomplished

most successfully on relatively level or gently undulating land. In mountainous country, where the coal seams lie horizontally to the slopes, major problems are involved. To work these seams, the new giant earth-moving equipment casts rocks, trees and earth down the flanks of the mountain, causing silt to fill the streams below. On the uphill side of the trench, the ‘high wall’ can rise to eighty feet or more. The ‘big screws’ follow along, boring for remaining coal deposits, a method which is estimated to recover only 30 per cent of the rest. Where the exposed sulphur-bearing coal is left behind, the surface water drain- ing from it has been found to kill many forms of aquatic life in the lakes and trout streams [z]. Concern over this type of mineral extraction and also over the recent extension of strip mining to the Indian and government coal lands of the West, has caused the Congress to pass a new bill, a provision of which requires the mining companies to fill in the high-wall excavations wherever they occur. Apologists for the externalities of surface

mining have sometimes claimed that the results after ‘restoration’ will be an improvement on the original appearance of the land. Others have admitted to finding beauty in the by-products of the operation. ‘In some cases, such as central Illinois, the barren spoil banks (by creating scenery con- trasting with the beautiful monotony of the cornfields) can represent a highly desirable and interesting feature of the landscape’, was a remark made at a Natural Beauty Conference at the White House in I 96). In general, however, it would be better to adopt the cautionary attitude to tampering with original conditions adopted by historic preservationists, whose motto is: ‘It is better to preserve than repair, better to repair

Christopher Tunnard

Plate 46 (a) A herd of Charolais cattle graze on

reclaimed strip-mined land in the midwest.

(Photo : National Coal Association.)


(b) Twenty-year-old trees grown on strip-mined land at Techumseh mine of Peabody Coal Company in Indiana (United States).

(Photo : Peabody Coal Company, 1967.)

Christopher Tunnard

160

than restore, better to restore than to recon- struct.’ [3] Surface mining should never take place in areas of outstanding natural beauty, for it is impossible to restore such a landscape with any degree of exactitude and arrive at its original natural beauty. Nor should it, in a time of national and international food shortages, be given priority over agricultural production. Much ingenuity has been displayed in

finding adaptive uses for mined areas. After treatment they have provided flat land for sports fields or contoured land for golf courses. They may serve a double purpose in removing objectionable by-products of the city. A five-acre strip-mined coal pit near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, has been transformed into a stocked game preserve with layers of processed municipal waste sandwiched between layers of soil. This was compacted by hydraulic ram to prevent any possible spontaneous combustion, and a twelve-foot layer of soil was placed on top. This reserve was developed by a coal company with the city’s cost of waste disposal reduced to $6.85 per ton from the $23 per ton which would have been the cost of incineration, with its attendant effects on air quality [4], In the state of Indiana, where professional reclamation staffs are employed by the mining industry acting in co-operation with government agencies, major recreational facilities have been created in a state park and a state forest on land largely disturbed by strip-mining. In a I 7 j -square- mile anthracite area of Pennsylvania a power company contracted with the Forest Ser- vice to map spoil areas requiring tree cover, including screening unsightly views from main roads. Much of the planting was done by volunteers from youth groups [I]. Some of the trees were moved onto the sites by new transplanting equipment. The writer recently spent a day at the new town of Columbia, Maryland, inspecting the thousands of trees moved both when dormant and even coming into leaf by a safe and easy method of moving grown specimens

which utilizes a patented transplanting bucket. This method has been used by highway departments for tree-moving on the site of superhighways and by the Chica- go Parks Department. All this ingenuity and more is needed to

match the depredations of strip-mining, sand and gravel excavation and rock-crush- ing operations for the supply of coal, building materials and highway construction. In the states in which strip-mining is carried on, the total acreage affected by highway construction was over fifty times that of the mining area in a survey conducted by TVA a few years ago. The machines now used in strip-mining will move 210 tons of earth every fifty-five seconds. The biggest machines are now taller than Niagara Falls, as high as the Golden Gate Bridge and eight traffic lanes wide. Beside them, the little tree-transplanting bucket seems puny indeed, but, although it cannot perform as fast, the results of its work add a certain grace to the denuded landscape and provide aesthetic satisfactions as well as the practical ones of preventing erosion and affording cover for wildlife. Governments and private firms are mak-

ing great efforts to recycle solid waste. Im- portant decisions loom as the nation’s waste products are tapped for re-use; for instance, paper can be recycled and used as paper, but it can also be treated and used as a much- needed source of fuel. The proper alloca- tion of such resources becomes critical in times of national shortage of raw materials, reaching far into the realms of import-export policy as well as simple domestic consumption. Apart from these important considerations, it is quite possible to dispose of solid waste effectively if land is available, but the ‘burn or bury’ philosophy of the past is being abandoned in favour of the recovery of most of what is thrown away. It is now possible to recover about 80 per cent of municipal solid waste; the technology of recycling is already in existence and markets for its products are being created.


Sanitary land-fill, as the most acceptable method of disposal is called, will presuma- bly always continue to be used, if only for the residue which cannot be recycled. This method replaces the old town dump, which was often on fire or swarming with rats. At present, solid waste disposal is a very serious problem in country towns where unspoiled landscape is an important desi- deratum, because they are running out of available land. Never desirable, it is no longer possible to dump garbage into marshes or over the side of cliffs; sites have to be selected with care and paid for with local funds. Sanitary methods are required in most communities, earth-moving equipment must be bought and prescribed methods of banking, trenching and compacting employed, lest the leachates escape and contaminate the ground water. Eventu- ally, when the land-fill is completed, it can be planted and even built upon, which gives a variety of choices for future land use. Compacted trash has been used to create ski slopes in flat country, and at Virginia Beach a sanitary hill has been created which is known locally as ‘Mount Trashmore’. New York City is considering the building of an island of trash in the bay, with concrete walls to protect slippage; this would be an improvement on present methods of towing garbage out on barges and dumping it in the Atlantic. The newer methods of recycling waste

mill produce some changes in the landscape, but mostly in the form of increased truck or rail trafic. The space they occupy will actually be smaller than conventional facilities. The recycling plants will be cen- tralized on a regional basis. In Connecticut, an advanced system is being proposed by the state’s Department of Environmental Protection with the technical advice of the General Electric Corporation. This divides the state into ten regions, each with a central plant. There are at least three possible methods of operation of these plants, of which the dry fuel system is the best

known. This separates paper waste by forced air and drops glass waste into con- tainers as part of the process. Pyrolysis, another system produces gas, while the water wall incinerator produces steam. The last-named source of energy is thought to be too expensive for the market at present. Apart from solid waste in the form of

garbage and trash, the problem of automobile, washing machine and refrigerator disposal looms large in the landscape. These items, known as consumer durables, are marked for obsolescence at an age earlier than in other parts of the world. The abandoned automobile has become a feature of American fields, roadsides, city streets, back alleys, stxeams, vacant lots and woodlands. One can even see the occasional private aeroplane discarded and rusting near the many country airfields nowadays. There would not be so many of these eyesores if the cost of moving them to a scrap-yard were not so prohibitive to former owners and scrap-metal merchants. There are about 8,000 auto wreckers in the United States, who handle 6 million cars a year. Their premises are where used cars are purchased and dismantled for the main purpose of salvaging usable parts, which go to the automotive rebuilders. This process is fami- liarly known as ‘cannibalizing’. For instance, the city of Chicago delivers and sells to scrap metal firms approximately j 5,000 abandoned cars a year. After canni- balization, the rest is sold as scrap. Inevita- bly, the wrecker’s yards, ranging from two to eight, or at most thirty acres in size, are full of rusting bodies, the average age of which is seven years, unless a new process of compacting them by a giant machine is in use. These car-flatteners and portable balers are still expensive for the average scrap-metal merchant, who has been traditionally a small businessman, although there is now a tendency towards a concentration of power in the industry. In many communities, local ordinances require fencing or screening of these yards from public 161

Christopher Tunnard

162

view but, as in the case of so many other industrial processes, the best results for landscape appearance consist in speeding up the flow of scrap to the steel mills and further improvement of scrap-processing equipment and re-usable parts, the latter to enable cars to last longer on the road. Sub- stantialnew outlets for automobile and other metal scrap are being made possible by governmental experimentation with systems of concentrating and reducing low- grade iron ores that so far have not been used commercially. The metal would, after processing, re-enter the steel-making cycle at the initial stage. The pick-up and disposal of abandoned cars may also be accelerated in the new systems of general waste disposal such as the one in Connecticut already mentioned. There are other forms of decay which are

the result of changing technology or obsolescence. At the White House Natural Beauty Conference, the writer made suggestions for the decaying urban waterfronts of the United States, noting that consolidation was in order and citing the example of San Francisco Bay, which is ringed with obsolete wharves, and where one marginal ber- thing facility of sufficient width could accommodate all the ocean-going ships ever to be found at one time in those waters. In New York, he advocated retention of some of the piers, especially the Chelsea Piers designed by the turn-of-the-century architect Whitney Warren, which are handsome example of industrial architecture, and which could provide recreational facilities as well as examples of historic preservation. H e recommended that urban waterfront districts be established to ensure that these important parts of cities should become a cultural resource and that scenic zones should be established there on the lines of Item I 6 in Unesco’s Recommendations Concerning the Safeguarding of the Beauty and Character of Landscapes and Sites, 11 December 1962. In these zones permis- sion would have to be obtained for new

installations, including highways, which often pre-empt the best sites on waterfront land [6] . A slow and difficult form of reclamation

is being applied to the nation’s dead and dying lakes, where eutrophication and other agents, more poisonous, have destroyed living creatures and plants. These agents, which may or may not be deleterious in other situations, range from mercury to gypsum, to phosphatic detergents to oil waste. They are by-products of industrial- izing societies, and although ingenious methods have been devised for recycling many of them before they reach the water, the lakes nearest to centres of population have all suffered in one way or another from contamination, either directly or by means of the entering rivers. One of the earliest attempts to protect

the waters of a lake occurred in the 1890s when Chicago created a sanitary district far beyond its borders and entrusted this new authority with the creation of a sanitary and ship canal which reversed the flow of the Chicago River to prevent it from polluting Lake Michigan, the source of the city’s water supply [7]. This industrial river thereafter flowed out of the lake instead of into it, at the same time providing a navigation channel and making Chicago’s swim- mers safe from pollution along the miles of sandy beaches with which the metropolis is endowed. A subsequent plan for the lake- front (1973) aims to acquire all the remaining private land along the thirty miles of beaches to maintain their continuous character for the public. It was not possible for the city of Cleve-

land, Ohio, to do the same thing with the rushing Cuyahoga River, the surface of which once burst into flame when it5 floating industrial waste was one day ignited. The Cuyahoga River flows into Lake Erie, which is shallow compared with Lake Michigan, and has other industrial cities such as Toledo, Ohio, and Buffalo, New York, on its borders. The result has been a


severe deterioration of the waters, massive fish kills and a drastic curtailment of the lake’s recreational potential. At the Lake Erie Congress held in 1971 under the aus- pices of the Great Lakes Research Institute and other organizations, the following suggestions for further research and action were made: (a) improved methods of treat- ing wastes and effluents; (b) interaction of the lake’s physical, chemical and biological systems with emphasis on the natural self- healing process ; (c) quantitative analysis of trace metals, pesticides and other toxic compounds in the lake; (d) useful recycling; (e) more effective water management policy, including means for controlling fluctuation of the lake levels. It was also recommended that a benefit-cost study be made of the ongoing cleaning-up process

Apart from the more noxious wastes, eutrophication is a common condition, which can occur far from an industrial area or visible human habitation. This consists in the favouring of certain species of algae bv the introduction of phosphates or other nutrients, changing the body of mater from an oligotrophic system rich in oxygen which supports plant and animal life to an eutrophic condition which is oxygen-deficient. Eutrophy is an ageing process in lakes, which in nature takes many thousands of years before the lake becomes a swamp and eventually dry ground, but which with man’s intervention may be speeded up disastrously [9]. The United States Environmental Protec-

tion Agency identified the ‘problem’ lakes of the country in 1971, describing some of the variations in their health and the methods of attack being used to combat the changes in n‘ater quality. The largest natural lake in Connecticut, for instance, which is very small compared with the two just described-it is only 91 acres in extent and a mere 23 feet in maximum depth, but very important for recreation and wildlife-has been treated for eutrophication

PI.

once a year for six years with copper sul- phate to study the effect of artificial destrati- fication by aeration. In future work on this lake it is planned to apply a method that does not use this chemical which has an unfortunate effect on fish. In another lake nearby, the surface has been lowered in winter for the past three years to kill nuisance algal growth around the shores. At Kezar Lake in New Hampshire, com- pressed air has been pumped along the lake bottom in perforated plastic pipes. Bubbles released thereby have prevented the stratifi- cation of algae, thus equalizing the chemical and physical characteristics of the lake. Pre- vious analysis of the algae had revealed a practically pure culture of the toxic Aphnni- ~o/~~enon~oRos-acqz[ae. Another beautiful lake in New Hampshire provides an example of the need for planning, for the fact that it has grown up haphazardly as a recreational centre and the presence of industrial waste in the entering river have combined to make its once-vivid blue waters turn green when the algae bloom. Underneath is ‘a worti- some content of r a w sewage’, contributed by townspeople and summer residents, whose cottages ring the lake [IO]. It is conditions such as these that the national Clean Water Act is helping to clear up, since it can provide 70 per cent of the cost of a sewage system for the community. At Lake Tahoe in California, where the water is deep and clear, a mammoth sewage filtra- tion plant has been installed at some distance from the settlement, which is an internationally famous and fast-growing resort. Fern lakeside communities have the sources of revenue of Tahoe, but many have taken advantage of the federal funds for proper sewage disposal to keep the ecosystem of their waters stable. Penalties for industrial and municipal

pollution under the new Federal Water Pol- lution Control Amendments Act (1972) are heavy: fines of $2,500 to $zj,ooo a day may be imposed for each violation [I I]. Secon- dary treatment of sewage is required for all

Christopher Tunnard

communities by 1977. The ‘sewage doctors’ have as many schemes for the best methods of treatment as the solid waste disposal and recycling experts have. Two of the popular European systems, the Pasveer oxidation ditch and the carousel are being used in the United States; they are considerably less expensive than the conventional activated sludge plant and are more trouble-free. Secondary effluent is being used to spray forests and fields in some parts of the country, thus providing irrigation and fertilizer at the same time, in contrast to Tahoe’s elaborate tertiary system which uses chemicals and electrical energy to render the remaining pollutants harmless. Realization that water quality and the

recycling of waste are of one piece with intelligent planning has produced new ideas and new legislation, one of the keys to which is landscape reclamation. National discussion on the limits to growth has also spurred new ideas on land use, and a National Land Use Policy Act is now under consideration by the Congress. One of the earliest applications of these ideas is contained in legislation proposed by Senator Edward Kennedy for the islands off the coast of Massachusetts, the scenic values of which are in danger from over-popularity. The Nantucket Sound Islands Trust Bill is designed to preserve the natural environment by designating land which is to remain wild, in contrast with town lands which will allow certain forms of development. Summer vacation houses will be limited, as will be tourism. The New York Times has backed the bill, which is now under discussion locally as well as in Washington. O n the continent itself, attention is once

again being paid to river basins, but with an emphasis different from that of the earlier Tennessee Valley Authority or of the Water Resources Commission which has done valuable work in the West. The author of one new bill is Senator Abraham Ribicoff, who had already proposed (in

1969) a Connecticut Historic Riverway in an attempt to avoid the destruction of the cultural and physical environment of the Connecticut River Valley which actually runs through three states. The senator’s emphasis is on reclamation as well as protection, and in 1972 he introduced another bill dealing with the Housatonic River Basin [IZ]. This important river, which runs from Massachusetts into Long Island Sound, is threatened not only by pollution but by uncontrolled development as well. Pointing out that because the river flows through State lines and through many New England towns no concerted effort has ever been made to preserve it, Senator Ribicoff believes that only the federal government can serve as the catalyst to bring the diverse elements of the region together. His bill would establish a Housatonic River Valley Trust, under which three classifications of land would be established : (a) lands for ever wild, where no development would be allowed; (b) scenic preservation lands, where the present density of development would not be increased; and (c) town lands, for which local governments would have the authority and responsibility for all land use decisions. ‘What is needed,’ says the senator, ‘is a vehicle to channel the inevitable forces of development in such a way as to protect the cultural and natural resources without disrupting the local economy and the residents’ life styles.’ The trust would have members representing the state, the local towns, conservation groups and others. A step in the direction indicated has already been taken in a study of waste water management of the region being undertaken by the United States Corps of En- gineers. Interest in community appearance has

spurred the growth of local conservation commissions, state and federal open space grants, subdjvision regulations, litter ordinances and other stimuli and curbs unknown a generation ago. Landscape aesthetics, not thought to be within the


jurisdiction of the courts, received its due at last in the United States Supreme Court in 1964, when Justice William 0. Douglas gave his now-famous opinion in the case of Berman U. Parker :

The concept of the public welfare is broad and inclusive. . . . The values it represents are spiritual and physical, esthetic as well as monetary. It is within the power of the legislature to determine that the community should be beautiful as well as healthy, spacious as well as

REFERENCES

I.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6. 7.

KNABE, Wilhelm. Observations on World Wide Efforts to Reclaim Industrial Waste Land. Iti: G. T. Goodman (ed.), Ecolog-y auid the Iiidustrial Socieg, p. 263, N e w York,

FRANKLIN, B. A. The Coal Rush is On. The Strip Miwing of America. Sierra Club, 1971. WHITEHILL, Walter M. The Right of Cities to be Beautiful. In: Rains and Henderson (eds.), With Heritage so Rich, p. 50. N e w York, 1966. Horn Trash, Garbage, etc. A'afional Obser- ver. I January 1972. Beau0 -for America. Proceediiigs of the It'%ife HoLise Coi2fereiice on Natural Beazlt_l', p. 3 2 I . Washington D.C., 1965. -. p. 154-8. SCOTT, hfel. Anzericaiz Cit_li Plarzniig Sime 1890, p. 32. Berkeley, California, 1969.

1965.

clean, well balanced as well as carefully patrol- led.

To restore and maintain the earth after all the devastation that has occurred since Marsh's day will take time, but the ac- knowledgement that concerted action and development reaching through the whole of society are now possible is both salutary and promising.

8. Lake Erie Congress, Great Lakes Research Institute et al., September, 1971.

9. When substantial quantities of a limiting nutrient are added to a body of water certain species of algae are favoured, multiply- ing so fast that mats of green slime form on the surface. Finally, lacking nutrients or light, they will die and decompose, using up oxygen. Accumulation of sunken mats gradually causes the lake to fill in. See: Hobson, K. D., Detergents. Bzrllefiii of the Greater L 'ictoria Eiivirotinieiifal Centel., Rri- tish Columbia, Canada, July 1973.

IO. MOFFETT, Hugh. Troubles at Lake Masco- ma. Snzifhsonian, May 1973, p. 70.

11. Pubblic Law 92-500, 9ztid Gotigress, S. 2770. 18 October 1972.

I 2. Congressional Record, Proceedirzgs arid Debates of the 9212d Congress, Second Session, Washing- ton, D.C. 23 May 1972.

Appendixes

G. Parlevliet

Trees and the man-made landscape

Trees have been used in early times in the man-made landscape, varying from the Hanging Gardens of Babylon to the great parks of the emperors of China. In Europe, the use of trees in towns was primarily decorative but with the expansion of the city the need for them increased. Many 'old' parks are the remnants of woods which once surrounded a city and have since been preserved as parks. They are used as picnic areas, clearings serve as playing fields and they preserve elements of a rural atmosphere in the city. They also serve to soften the outline of buildings when planted along boulevards and their shade and respiration help to keep summer pavements cool. Nevertheless, the environment of a city is

not favourable to the growth of trees. Paved areas and resultant rapid drainage require that they be watered artificially. Pollution cuts short the life expectancy of many trees and shrubs so that constant care and frequent replacement are called for. Owing to the shortcomings in applied scientific research the long-term relationships of trees in an urban environment are only just beginning to be understood.

AIR POLLUTION

In urban areas, many sources are responsible for the pollution of the atmosphere. These can be divided into the following : The zise of fuel for heating. Since olden days, the heating of homes has been one of the

most important sources of air pollution. Almost all fossil fuels contain sulphur which escapes in the form of sulphur dioxide (SO,), usually at low altitudes. The increase in the level of SO, in stable atmospheric conditions during the winter months must be attributed principally to smoke and gas effluents of heating installations. Moreover, nitrous oxides, carbon

monoxide, soot, tar and other compounds escape into the atmosphere. By using good-quality coal and efficient stoking plants, the situation in the Netherlands has always been relatively satisfactory. Larger stoking plants for district and block heating, and increased use of sulphur-free, low-soot, natural gas, have improved conditions.

Indzlstv. It is impossible to survey completely all the forms of air pollution caused by industry. Almost every industry produces a specific combinztion of water products and the number has increased rapidly because of developments in the chemical industry. The most important forms of air pollution caused by industrial activities are:

I. Solid components sz.tcb as soot, ash and dust. These are produced by blast furnaces, mines, cement factories, power stations, etc. In areas where older basic industries are concentrated, this form of air pollution is serious. Reasonably good control is possible by using dust catchers and filters at the source.

I

Appendixes

2. Mists and aerosols. Liquids in the form of mist and very finely divided solids in suspension are emitted by chemical industries amongst others. Control at the source has only limited possibilities.

3. Gaseous pollation. The most important gaseous polluters are: (a) sulphur dioxide which is produced by blast furnaces, power stations and boiler houses, refineries and gas works, to name but a few. The amount of SO, which escapes into the atmosphere is often impressive; in 1962, for example, refineries in Rotter- dam produced 300 tons of SO, per day; (b) fluorides are set free by the metal industry (especially the aluminium industry), artificial fertilizer factories, the ceramic industry, glass factories and the brick-making industry; (c) nitric oxides are created in most burning processes, including exhaust fumes of motor cars and industrially produced sulphuric acid and nitric acid and other products; (d) hydro-carbons escape, especially from refineries and chemical industries ; (e) next to these general polluters a number of gaseous waste products escape with a more incidental or local character: chlo- rine, hydrogen chloride, sulphuric acid, hydrogen sulphide, ammonia, aldehydes, etc. Very poisonous gases can escape in high concentrations when breakdowns in the production process, factory accidents and disasters occur. The control of gaseous pollution at the source is often prevented by technical and/or financial difficulties. Various attempts, for example, washing, have not yet given the desired results. The situation can be improved through the use of very tall chim- neys, whereby dilution to acceptable concentrations can be achieved, or by modifications in the production process; (f) odours present another phenomenon which is not immediately harmful, but is certainly extremely inconvenient. Some compounds such as the mercaptans and organic sulphur chains even when pres-

ent in very low concentrations, are very annoying. Chemical and petrochemical industries are well-known emitters of unpleasant odours and the agricultural industry also causes inconvenience such as bone-meal manufacturers, canneries, slaughterhouses.

Motor trafic. Motor traffic is also a source of serious air pollution, as exhaust gases are emitted at very low altitudes. The amount of SO, which is produced

is rather small. However, internal combustion gasoline engines produce large amounts of dangerous gases such as carbon monoxide, nitrous oxides, hydrocarbons and a number of polycyclic hydrocarbons with carcinogenic properties such as 3.4-benzopyrene. In addition, the use of ‘high-test’ gasoline by motor cars releases lead in the atmosphere due to the inclusion of the compound tetraethyl lead in the fuel. The slow and steady wear of rubber tyres also releases quantities of material in a highly pulverized state. Under the influence of ultraviolet light, a number of the less dangerous gases such as hydrocarbons and nitrous oxides react together forming the so-called oxidants : nitrogen dioxide, ozone, peroxy- acetylnitrate (PAN), and peroxypropio- nylnitrate (PPN) or the ‘Los Angeles smog’. With the exception of nitrogen dioxide, these oxidants are extremely dangerous. Little is known of the contribution to air pollution by shipping and air transport. Electrification of many railways has reduced this source of pollution.

Remaining sources. Most of the remaining sources have an incidental character : polluted water, burning garbage dumps, breeding establishments, etc.

The effect of air pollution on trees and shrubs

A comprehensive literature exists on the effect of air pollution on trees and shrubs, in particular studies on the resistance to

Appendixes

pollution among plants. Conifers are more sensitive to pollution than the broad-leaved trees, except for the deciduous types of conifer such as Lark, but even within a species there are clear differences between the varieties and clones. Age and growth are factors, many types

being less sensitive when they are older, and local conditions can affect resistance, for example, spring manuring with potas- sium chloride increases the sensitivity of plants to air pollution. Most of the basic polluants are not ab-

sorbed into plants. The growth of the plant can, however, be harmfully influenced by blocking the stomata of leaves reducing by dust the amount of light necessary for photosynthesis, although heavy showers mash off a great deal of surface dust. In some cases, cement dust can cause serious damage because it forms a crust which is not easily removed. Some alkalis and various acids, in the

form of mist or aerosol, attack the wax layer of the epidermis and lessen resistance against disease and insects. Most of the damage to trees and shrubs is caused by harmful gases, particularly sulphur dioxide and hydrogen fluoride (HF). Epiphytes (mosses or lichens and other

plants which derive their nourishment from the air), for example, are very sensitive to SO,. Almost all urban areas in the Nether- lands are changing into ‘epiphyte deserts’ because of atmospheric sulphurous gases. The lethal dose for lichens is lower than 0.018 p.p.m. and for most vascular plants between 0.17 and I p.p.m. and the composition of plant communities changes when SO, concentration rises. O n the other hand, SO, does not work cumulatively. Plants can oxidize the SO,-ion to the thirty times less dangerous SO,-ion. Together with the epiphytes, a number

of sensitive plants can serve as indicators for pollution from SO,, among them clover, lucerne, lettuce, radishes and deadly nightshade.

HF is extremely dangerous even in very low concentrations. In Norway, for example, woods of Pinu ghestris were completely destroyed at a distance of IO km from an aluminium plant, while noticeable damage was to be seen at a distance of 32 km. The concentration at which HF is harm-

ful is much lower than that of SO,, that is, 0.021 mg/m3 as against about 0.1 mg/m3. In contrast to SO,, HF works cumula-

tively. Gladioli, tulips, the common Solomon’s

seal, squill and plum are extremely sensitive to HF and are useful as indicator plants. HF, as far as man and animals are concerned, is only dangerous in higher concentrations. Consumption of plants or parts of plants which have been exposed to air polluted by fluoride compounds, have very harmful consequences. Ethylene is another gaseous polluter

which acts upon plants in low concentrations. The dropping off of the paulownia buds in Paris, due to the influence of ethylene, is a well-known phenomenon. It was noticeable that they flowered well during the Second World W a r when motorcars were few and the amount of ethylene in the air was minimal. Ozone and PAN have caused large-scale damage, especially in the United States of America. The damage caused by PAN can occur at a concentration of 0.07 p.p.m. over four hours, and that of ozone from 0.2 p.p.m. over four hours. Nitrogen dioxide is only dangerous at a concentration of from 4-8 p.p.m. Tobacco (Nicotiand sp.) is a good indicator plant for ozone. Spinach and annual meadow grass, among others, are suitable as indicator plants for PAN.

Gases which escape from industrial accidents, etc., can cause very serious damage to trees and shrubs. Apart from the well- known gases already mentioned in literature such as Cl,, HCI, HNO,, modern chemicals, such as the herbicides, released accidentally, can have disastrous effects on trees and shrubs.

Appendixes

= 7 2

Finally, there are types of air pollution which are harmful to man and animal, but which have little influence on plants. Of the gaseous polluters these include carbon monoxide, nitrous oxides and hydrogen sulphide. Lead compounds which with others are

released by motorized traffic, are just as harmful to man as to plants. Indirectly, lead poisoning can occur through human and animal consumption of plants growing in a lead-polluted atmosphere.

The injuetzce of trees atzd shrubs on air pollution

Trees and shrubs can have a favourable effect on the purity of the atmosphere. Studies have shown that green belts of jo- roo m. in width can decrease up to jo per cent of the dust content of the atmosphere and trees and shrubs planted along streets also help to lessen pollution. The favourable effects of trees and shrubs

are due in part to the absorption of the particles on the leaves, trunk and branches. Factors which play a part here are the form and hairiness of the leaf and more generally the habitat of the plant; large hairy leaves retain more dust than small, smooth ones, while leaved trees retain more dust than pines. In forests, the averages per year are: Picea abies, 3 z tonlha; Pinus gluestris, 3 5.4 to 36.4 ton/ha and Fagus sihatica, 41 to 68 ton/ha. These figures vary according to the age and density of the forest. Liquids and aeresols can also be filtered

out by trees and shrubs, even when they are bare. The dust and liquid particles which are retained are either washed off by the rain or fall with the leaf to the ground in the autumn. Shrubs, agricultural crops and even short mown lawns can also filter and retain dust. Trees, by lowering wind velocity, aid in

precipitating contaminants. The most favourable effect would be obtained by good wind-breaks with a wind-proof capacity of about jo per cent.

As far as forests are concerned, most dusts are precipitated at the edge of the forest. Densely planted trees slow wind velocity

only slightly or not at all, as air currents are directed over the trees. Research into the influence of trees and shrubs on radioactive fall-out has been carried out and in a large city in southern Germany, in an area completely surrounded by a green belt, radioactive levels on surface soil and in homes were only j6 per cent of the levels found elsewhere in the city. It appeared that plants took up radioactive material in the food chain, and under the influence of trees and shrubs a decrease of between 30 per cent to 60 per cent in radioactivity was possible. This is the the same level of protection found for non-radioactive air pollution. The influence of trees and shrubs on

gaseous contaminants is still under study; for example, authorities differ on the ab- sorptive effect of trees on SO,. It seems unlikely that trees and shrubs

filter out much of the lower concentrations of the poisonous, cumulatively acting, hydrogen fluoride. In some cases, however, trees and shrubs

can influence the gaseous waste products of polluted air. Planting can be designed to promote air turbulence, resulting in the mixing of some of the layers of air. This could have beneficial results for example, in the case of concentration of pollutants which decrease rapidly with height; although the ‘mixing to unharmful concentrations’ which results from plantings suggested by some specialists, are strongly doubted by others. In general, the effect of trees and shrubs

on air pollution depends on: (a) the situation of the planted area in connection with ground relief; (b) structure of the planted area; (c) resistance of trees and shrubs against air pollution; (d) nature and concentration of the air pollution; (e) meteorological and (micro) climatological conditions. The belief that green belts in city areas

are important for the production of oxygen

Appendixes

or for the taking up of CO, caused by burning processes, must be denied. The total amount of oxygen produced by photosynthesis is already so large that the contribution of oxygen from even extensive green belts is not an important factor.

THE h1 I C R 0 C L I RI A T E

The microclimate is determined by a number of very complex factors which can differ considerably in neighbouring areas. Wind velocity and direction depend mainly upon the topography, height, form and location of buildings and plantations and upon varying densities of the atmosphere, caused by the influence of temperature. Temperature changes are determined by

pavements, construction material, colour, wind influence, etc. Air humidity is also determined by temperature. It is clear that we must review the data on air flow, temperature and air humidity in city areas with considerable care. A good deal of information exists about the microclimate of forests. In general, a gradual change takes place from marine to continental climates. O n warm days, the ground temperature

of forests is 4 to j "C lower, on cold winter days I to z "C higher than the surrounding countryside. The air temperature depends strongly on the type of forest, in July, the temperature is about z "C lower in a pine and spruce forest and 3.j "C lower in a beech forest than in the surrounding area while the relative air humidity is, on an average, 3 to j per cent higher. The question whether plantations raise or

lower the ambient temperature depends entirely upon the height at which it is mea- sured. While this problem is still under study the following must be noted. A person does not usually react to the air temperature but to the balance of energy. Radiation is, therefore, very important; trees can cause warm or close conditions without raising air temperatures or cool conditions without lowering air temperatures.

In city areas, tall buildings influence air currents. There are stronger currents around higher buildings than around lower ones, especially at high-wind speeds. Serious damage can be caused to trees and shrubs due to this factor. If the wind blows perpendicularly at the lower side of a IOO- metre high building, at windforce 7 (approximately 1 5 misec.), a wind velocity of about 3j m/sec. can exist at the corners of the building. These very high wind velocities can be

alleviated by suitably placed artificial wind- breaks. Apart from this, wind-breaks also fulfil a very useful function; for example, in the lee of a high building gusty winds can occur. If the wind blows perpendicularly at a wind-break the velocity will be decreased by 11j over a distance of 27.1 times the break height behind the break, and 1.75 times the height in front of the wind- break. The most suitable wind-breaks for

decreasing wind velocity are those which are well maintained, not too high and with a wind-proof capacity of about 50 per cent. Too little fundamental research is being carried out on the role which trees can play in the improvement of the microclimate in city areas, as they can make a positive contribution.

NOISE POLLUTION

The problem of noise pollution is extremely complicated. There is still a shortage of applied scientific knowledge and the accumulation of data on acoustics is slow. However, it is a fact that in urban areas noise pollution is rising. These are three points of application for the control of this problem.

The murce The important sources of noise in city areas are industry and motor traffic. Trades and industry (in the past, the most important '73

Appendixes

‘74

source of noise) are localized problems as they tend to be in different zones from residential areas. The very serious noise problem of airport traffic is generalized. It is technically possible to control the noise caused by motor cycles and cars at its source. The noise caused by heavy diesel motors in buses and lorries is, however, more difficult to control. The noise from tyres can be controlled by more attention being paid to the road surface and the design of treads. Better traffic control and town-planning regulations will help to solve this problem.

Objects to be ptected

It appears that the action of trees on noise depends very much on the sort of trees used, particularly the form and size of the leaf and the thickness of the foliage. Coni- fers seem to absorb very little noise. Species of trees with relatively large leaves such as the Viburnum lantana, Acer pseudoplantams and Tilia pla&td,yllos, suppress noise more effectively. An important side effect of trees and

shrubs is via the influence of the microclimate and the transmission of noise waves: I. Ground surface and covering, such as cultivated ground and growing grass, heather and grain respectively, are important in the transmission of sound originating from sources close to the ground. Low frequencies are little influenced but high frequencies are very noticeably softened.

2. Forest edges can act as reflectors for high frequencies.

3. Thick hedges absorb high frequencies, but also reflect sound measurably.

4. Mixed plantations disperse noise better than those of one type.

j. For a reduction of 40 (DIN-phone), w e require very dense planting of a minimum of 90 m. For optimal action, the shortest distance to the road surface may not be more than twice the height of the

trees. Thus trees do not offer much possibility from the point of view of direct noise absorption.

6. The so-called ‘flutter-echoes’, an increasing phenomenon in streets and squares, can be decreased to an important degree by the dispersing action of trees. Reli- able measurements concerning this are not yet known. The most suitable plants for protection

over the whole year are broad-leaved evergreens ( Viburnum rbytidophyllum, Bhododen- dron sp. and similar types) and trees whose leaves remain on the plant after they wither (horn-beam and oak).

T H E CONDITION O F T H E SOIL

The condition of the soil has a very important effect on the health of trees and shrubs. When new plantations are being considered the soil plays an important role in deciding which ones to choose. In city areas there are, however, several

factors at work, which unfavourably influence the condition of the soil: (a) gas leaks from mains; (b) brine and scattering of salt (to melt snow and ice); (c) soil pollution caused by petroleum products and other chemical products; (d) soil hard- ening; (e) laying and widening of roads; (f) asphalting of roads; (g) laying of cables and pipes; (h) the problem of water caused by an increased amount of impermeable cover (pavement). Damage caused by gas leaks has occurred

since coal gas was introduced. Elm, especially, appears to be very sensitive; since the use of natural gas, however, the problem has increased. An important cause of many leaks is because usually the same pipes which had been used for coal gas were also used for natural gas. As the latter is distributed under much higher pressures, the number of small gas leaks has increased. In addition, natural gas in much drier than coal gas, and the packing used in joints between pipes has dried out and leaks occur.

Appendixes

Damage is due to a number of factors: I. Replacement of air present in the soil by natural gas, causing changes in bacterial and other processes.

2. Extreme dryness of natural gas, lessen- ing the humidity of the soil.

3. Decrease of the percentage of oxygen in the air space of the soil to a level which is too low for roots.

The decreased percentage of oxygen seems to play an important part in the death of trees. After tracing and closing gas leaks, a

number of measures are called for to improve the composition of the air in the soil and, more generally, to improve the condition of the soil. This has been achieved by bringing oxygen-rich air into the ground (compressor method), sucking away the polluted soil air (sucking method) and other means to improve soil ventilation. Linden, chestnut, elm and maple are very sensitive to natural gas; conifers and privet are less sensitive. The use of salt to remove snow or ice

during winter can seriously affect the roots of trees. It is possible to improve the situation by preventing excessive use and bad distribution of salt. In addition, trees can be protected by local use of urea or sand, by carrying out paving measures, or by elevat- ing planted areas. Other forms of soil pollution can also be

dangerous to trees. Petroleum products spread very quickly, forming a film over large areas of ground water and can remain in the soil for years. They also kill soil bacteria which are essential for good soil conditions. The laying of impermeable hard surfaces,

for example, the asphalting of roads and pavements, has an unfavourable effect on the condition of the soil because it slows

down the exchange of gases. In many cases, the CO,: 0, ratio becomes too high and eventually results in too little oxygen. Beech and plane trees, among others, are

sensitive to diminished oxygen supplies. Ventilation channels and the use of ventilation tiles can lessen damage.

CONCLUSIONS

I. The environment in urban areas is to an increasing degree unfavourably affected bv climatic effects of modern planning, air, noise and soil pollution, sand and water contamination.

2. Air pollution has a very unfavourable effect on plant life as it seems to be more sensitive than man or animals.

3. The direct effect of trees and shrubs on air pollution is generally small. Their influence upon the percentage of dust in the atmosphere is the most important contribution.

4. In some cases, trees and shrubs can have favourable effects on gaseous air pollution by altering the microclimate.

5. Plantations can clearly influence the microclimate in urban areas. This influence is not always positive, and further research is needed.

6. The effect of trees and shrubs on noise is very limited. Thick hedges and growths filter out annoying high notes from the noise spectrum to a limited extent.

7. Almost all factors which affect the environment in urban areas can be controlled most efficiently at the source.

8. The effect of trees and shrubs on the environment in city areas is very exag- gerated. They can have a positive influence, but a great deal of research into their optimal use still needs to be carried out.

Appendixes

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

Air pollution Proceedings of the First European Congrm on the Influence of Air Pollution on Plants and Ani- mals. Wageningen, 1968. PUDOC, Wagenin-

BARKMAN, J. J. The Influence of Air Pollution on Bryophytes and Lichens. Air Pollution,

BECK, G. Untersuchung uber Planungsgrundlagen fiir eine Lannbekampfung im Freiraum mit art- speZzj!ischen Larmminderungsvermogen verschiedener Baum- und Straucharten. Berlin, 1965. 262 p.

BERNATZKY, A. Climatic Influences of the Greens and City Planning. Antbor, vol. g, no. I, 1966, p. 29-34; Die Bedeutung von Schutzpflanzungen gegen Luftverunreini- gung. Air PoZZution, 1969, p. 383-95.

CABORN, J. M. Shelterbelts and Windbreaks. London, 1965, 288 p.

gen, 1969.

1969, P. 197-209.

Environmental health BIERSTEKER, K. (ed.). Excerpta Medica, vols. I,

2, Abstracts 1-624, The Hague, 1971. HERBST, W. Filter- und Schutzwirkung des Waldes gegen radioaktive und andere Bei- mengungen der Atmosphare, Der Forsf- und HoZpirt, vol. 20, 1961, no. IO, p. 216-20.

HOUTZAGERS, G. Houtteelt der Gematigde Luchtstreek, vol. 2, Het Bos, Zwolle, 1956,

JANSE, A. R. P. Bomen en het Lawaai in de Straat. Milieuverbetering door Stadsbeplanting. 1970. P. 26-34.

SCURFIELD, G. Air Pollution and Tree Growth, Forest? Abrtracfs, vol. 21, 19G0, no. 3, P. 339-47. no. 4, P. 517-28.

SHAH, S. R. H. Studies on Wind Protection. Arn- hem, ITBON (Institute for Biological Field Research), 1962, 113 p.

H. R. Fuchs-Leeuwin

Trees for urban areas in the tropics and sub-tropics

ME L I A c E A E (the mahogany family)

Melia aaidaracb. A tropical tree which originated in India and is now found in Asia, Africa and South America. It provides good shade, as it is cone-shaped having a broad crown at its base and narrowing towards the top. It is not long-lived and loses its pleasant shape as it ages.

Andaracbta indica. Shares 'many of the characteristics of aTidaracb, but it is not as sturdy.

Siuietania sp. A slow-growing but relatively long-lived tree used along streets. The maximum height is about 32 m., it has a heavily branched crown.

S. mabogani. It has small leaves and is very common in South America.

S. macropbylla. It has larger leaves than mabogani and is widely distributed throughout the Indian archipelago.

P A L M A E

Oreodoxa sp. A tall and very attractive palm, maximum height of 20 m. It is common in South America, including the Carib- bean, and in tropical Africa, and Asia. It has a smooth columnar trunk with pin- nate leaves. It is a good street and shade tree, which is long-lived. 0. regia. The royal palm which resembles the other, but has a slightly bulbous portion midway up the trunk and is also widely used for ornamental purposes and for shade.

0. oleracea. It has a thick trunk which is swollen at the base and bears the oldest and lowest leaves horizontally.

Phoenix tannriensis. Tall slender palm tree with a rough trunk reaching 20 m. in height. Street tree providing excellent shade with terminal bouquet of large opposite leaves. Widely found along the Mediterranean coast in dry tropical and sub-tropical areas.

Tbrinax argenta. Smaller palm, originally from Surinam and little known abroad. About IO m. height, grows well in humid tropical areas and resists long periods of drought. Needs well-drained soil, which also applies to Oreodoxa; it is a quick growing tree.

CAESALPINIACEAE (the Senna or Cassias)

Poinciana (Delonix) regia. Originally from the Indian Archipelago. Maximum height, 17 m. Monsoon climate required for adequate development. The blossoms appear at the same time as the new leaves at the beginning of the rainy season, April and May. The tree with its red and yellow blossoms is very beautiful in the streets. It is circum-tropic in distribution.

Tamarindtrs indica. Originally from Africa, widely diffused in tropical areas, including South-East Asia, West Indies and tropical Africa. The tree prefers a sandy soil, grows slowly reaching about 20 metres. Many branches stem from a trunk covered with rough bark, producing

2

Appendixes

a broad crown of feathery leaves. The tree may reach very old age, provides excellent shade and is a good street tree.

Cassia spectabilis. Rather small tree of a maximum of zj ft. It is a favourite in the West Indies and Central America. In a tropical climate, with plenty of rain, the tree grows very fast. It prefers sandy soil in low altitudes. Its growth declines as the altitude increases.

Peltophorum inerme. A tree which attains 16 m. in height, with strongly divided branches, originally from South-East Asia, pan-tropical, grows rapidly and is a favourite shade street tree. It thrives in a sandy soil.

Enterohbictm saman (raintree). Originally from tropical America and South-East Asia, a tall quick-growing tree, with very broad crown providing excellent shade. Strong widespread roots reaching to side walls and pavements may cause problems in urban settings. Found in monsoon climate areas, the tree blossoms as the new leaves appear in the beginning of the year, after the tree has lost most leaves during the dry season. If the dry season is less pronounced, the transfor- mation of the tree is less remarkable. E. gclocarpzrm belong to the same family as the above tree and has the same possibilities.

BIGNONIACEAE

Jacaranda jlicifolia. Originally from Brazil (South America), but also known in Madeira, South-East Asia and East Afri- ca. To obtain the best development, the tree requires a dry season and sandy soil. The branches are few and irregular, the leaves are light green, fern-like providing an open crown whch does not give much shade. It is very decorative, partic-

ularly when it blossoms as it has abundant bunches of orchid-like, lilac- coloured bell-shaped flowers.

J. accttiflia comes from Egypt, and resists a long dry season better than filicifolia.

Spathodea sp. (African tulip tree) comes from Africa, and is noted for its large shiny dark leaves. The tree grows quickly and blossoms early in life. Its long, tough and strong roots may cause problems for pavements, sewers and foundations in urban settings.

S. campandata. Reaches 20 m. with a closed dark crown and large bunches of red blossoms. It comes from West Africa and is now pan-tropical in distribution.

S. nilatica. Spread over Egypt and East Africa, the tree is known for its resistance to drought in arid areas. The colours of the tree are softer and the size smaller than the others of this genus. It prefers sunny areas.

Terminalia catalpa. (Combretac) Pagoda tree. It reaches 17 m., is pan-tropical and widely used in streets, as well as along waterways. Recommended for shade in school playgrounds, it grows quickly and may reach a large size in horizontal layers. The leaves are very broad, round to oval in shape, and are periodically shed. Before the fall, the colour changes into bright red.

Caszrarina sp. (Casuarinae). The tree comes from Australia and is subdivided into many species and varieties. Typical tree for coastal areas, most species prefer altitude and many are salt tolerant. A few species dwell in monsoon climate (C. egzriseti, C. stricta). Height 20 m., spread over tropical Africa, where it is used as a street tree and wind-breaker.

Acacia nilotica (mim.). Comes from Egypt, is also known in tropical East Africa. It is a useful tree for street and shade.

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