Clark The Art of the Islamic Garden

1. Auflage 2010
ISBN: 978-0-7198-4358-7
Verlag: The Crowood Press
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 208 Seiten

Islamic gardens are enchanting places. Just the names of some of the most beautiful gardens in the world - the Alhambra, the Generalife, the Shalimar - conjure up images of calm and even divine beauty. No visitor is left untouched by their magic. This new paperback edition of The Art of the Islamic Garden is an introduction to the design, symbolism and making of an Islamic Garden and it examines that magic, describes the component parts which allow a deeper understanding of the beauty. Topics covered include: history, symbolism and the Quran in relation to the traditional Islamic garden; significance of design and layout of the garden explained, geometry, hard landscaping and architectural elements and aguide to designing the garden with water, and recommendations for trees, shrubs and flowers. There is a unique account of the design and planting of HRH The Prince of Wales' Carpet Garden at Highgrove.

Emma Clark is a writer, lecturer and designer specializing in traditional Islamic art and architecture. She teaches part-time on the Visual Islamic and Traditional Arts Programme at The Prince's Foundation in London.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Clark, Emma

Leseproben

Introduction

This book offers an introduction to the design, symbolic meaning and planting of the traditional Islamic garden, as well as giving some practical ideas for those interested in making one for themselves – in the United Kingdom or elsewhere with a similar climate. It is not a history of Islamic gardens or a geographically comprehensive survey of them. Some may be inspired to make one of these gardens as a reminder of time spent abroad in countries as diverse as Morocco, Syria, Iran, India or Spain; or Muslims may wish to make one as a reminder of the gardens in the country of their birth or their relatives’ birth. Obviously it is not necessary to be a Muslim to make an Islamic garden, just as it is not necessary to be a Buddhist to make a Japanese Zen garden or a Christian to make a medieval knot garden. However, there is no doubt that it is far more enriching for the garden-maker or designer, when embarking on such a garden, to have some understanding of the culture that gave birth to it in the first place.

Fig. 2. Jardin Majorelle – Ironwork window-grille set within carved plaster surround.

Fig. 3. Courtyard, Azem Palace, Damascus.

Fig. 4. Generalife gardens, Alhambra Palace, Granada.

Fig. 5. Fundamental chahar-bagh (four-fold garden) plan, after the Taj Mahal garden.

Fig. 6. Court of Lions, Alhambra: water flows both from the central fountain into the rill below and from four fountains, one on each side of the court, towards the centre – reflecting the four rivers described in the gardens of paradise in the Quran: one of water, one of milk, one of honey and one of wine (see Chapter 2).

This book does not contain strict blueprints for designs but rather flexible ideas deriving from a fundamental theme – that of the chahar-bagh (from the Persian chahar meaning four and bagh meaning garden), as well as recommendations for planting. The classic chahar-bagh is the four-fold garden constructed around a central pool or fountain with four streams flowing from it, symbolically towards the four directions of space. Occasionally, the water is engineered to flow both from the central fountain ‘outwards’, as well as travelling ‘inwards’ from fountains placed at the ‘four corners’ towards the centre – as can be seen in the Court of Lions at the Alhambra (Fig. 6 and see Figs 31 and 32). Often paths are substituted for water. This could be said to be the quintessential plan of an Islamic garden – and there are many interpretations of it across the Islamic world, for example, it can be rectangular and not square (the Patio de la Acequia at the Generalife, Figs 40, 52 and 56) and it can be repeated on a kind of grid system, following irrigation channels (the Agdal gardens near Marrakesh); its symbolism is not particular to Islam but of a universal nature, founded upon a profound understanding of the cosmos – this is examined in Chapter 1. The plan can be adapted for your own garden according to individual circumstances and requirements, while the underlying meaning of being a reflection of the heavenly gardens remains the same and is relevant to all, Muslim and non-Muslim alike.

We all have different starting-points for our gardens depending on the size, situation (urban, suburban or rural), aspect, climate, soil and so on, so suggestions are made in Chapters 5 and 6 for a variety of trees, shrubs, plants and flowers, which may suit a more northern climate at the same time as being appropriate for an Islamic-inspired garden. Crucially, the fundamental four-fold lay-out should be retained, together with water in some form or other (see Chapter 4). It should be made clear from the outset that this kind of garden is a formal garden and on the whole is easier to adapt to an urban situation rather than a rural one. However, it is certainly possible to create a formal chahar-bagh in the countryside, providing it has some kind of separation from its surroundings – in the form of walls or high hedges, creating a ‘room’ for it. The case study in Chapter 7, HRH The Prince of Wales’ carpet garden at Highgrove, demonstrates how well this can succeed.

There is no substitute for actually visiting Islamic gardens around the world for a greater understanding and appreciation of them. The ones we are mainly looking at for inspiration are those created from approximately the tenth to the end of the seventeenth centuries, in the countries most obviously categorized as the traditional Islamic world: north African countries, the Near and Middle East, Turkey, Persia (present-day Iran) and the Indian sub-continent.8A The majority of the most outstanding Islamic gardens were created before the beginning of the eighteenth century when the influence of the Western European gardening traditions began to be felt.9 Until this time, from around the middle of the sixteenth century onwards – and at least a century earlier in Spain – this situation was in reverse: it was European gardens that were influenced by Eastern gardens, experiencing a kind of revolution, not so much in design as in plants and planting. This was initiated by the great number and variety of new trees, shrubs and flowers introduced from Turkey and further East by diplomats and travellers keen to find out more about the powerful and fast-expanding Ottoman empire.10

Fig. 7. The garden of the Dar Batha Museum, Fes, showing paths forming the chahar-bagh.

Fig. 8. Café at the foot of the mountains just north of Tehran. Guests sit or recline on metal beds covered in rugs, which are placed straddled over a fast-flowing stream.

Fig. 9. The ‘Garden of the Sultana’ showing pavilion and water, Generalife gardens, Alhambra.

However, to return to one of our main purposes here, that is, to look at some Islamic gardens which have survived until today for inspiration. A glance at just a few of these great gardens11 – from the expansive Achabal gardens (Kashmir) and the Bagh-i-Fin (Persia), to the more intimate gardens of the Alhambra and Generalife (Spain) and the courtyards of old Damascus and Fes – demonstrates the emphasis on water and shade, as well as on the strong integration between architecture and landscape, which distinguishes them from the gardens of the northern European tradition. In a North European country such as the United Kingdom the emphasis is, understandably, less on water and shade than on sun and the longed-for south-facing border. Indeed, most people still, in spite of all the health warnings, rush to bask in the sunshine as soon as it makes one of its rare appearances. It was only after visiting Iran and spending time in cafés at the foot of the mountains north of Tehran that I really began to understand the importance of water and shade, and to absorb the atmosphere of what an Islamic garden means. Here, cheap metal divans are placed across fast-running streams; rugs and cushions are laid out on the beds so that the visitor can sit crosslegged or lie on them and wait to be served with watermelon, tea and perhaps shisha or argile (water-pipe). Then one sinks back into the cushions looking up at the leaves of the chenar tree (Platanus orientalis) filtering the sunlight, listening to the sound of water running over the pebbles below and the phrase from the Quran, ‘Gardens underneath which Rivers flow,’12 is really brought alive. The experience is truly a foretaste of the Paradise gardens which all Muslims, and others too no doubt, hope to be their final resting-place.

When observing the formality of the chahar-bagh across the Islamic world, it is worth noting a fundamental difference between the gardens (the larger ones we are referring to here) of England and Europe, and the Islamic gardens: Muslims, indeed anyone brought up in a hot country, do not on the whole, like to walk purely for pleasure.13 First of all, it is generally too hot and secondly, what is the point of walking if you do not have a necessary destination in mind? As the reader who has stayed in a hot country for any length of time will know, this is completely understandable. Thus, after the two vital elements of water and shade, another important consideration (along with geometry, discussed in Chapters 2 and 3) is a place to sit: a pavilion at one end or in the centre, preferably somewhere near the water in order to catch a cooling breeze. Sir John Chardin’s (ambassador to Persia in the seventeenth century) observation that ‘The Persians don’t walk so much in Gardens as we do … they set themselves down in some part of the garden … and never move from their seat till they are going out of it,’14 is very relevant in understanding the ambience of the Islamic garden. It is far more focused on rest, relaxation and entertainment, as well as quiet contemplation, than a garden in England in which it is only possible to sit for two or three months of the year, the rest of the time being a damp, if beautiful, place to walk. In fact, Francis Bacon (1561–1626) commented the opposite about England, ‘It is very pleasant to be outside but not pleasant enough to sit still’.

Intention

When studying the art,...