This is the third in a four-part series. In previous articles (links at bottom) I talked about the spontaneous regeneration on brownfield sites in the UAE and the utilisation of seeded landscapes to create semi-natural ecosystems without irrigation. Another factor of these landscapes would be to make them productive in a way that would enrich the soils of not just that landscape but, by the production of useful products, returning fertility to the soil for both the site concerned and also urban landscapes and gardens elsewhere.
Coppice woodland is not a term that you normally associate with the Middle East, yet there are many trees, both native and introduced, that would work in this manner. So what would be the point? Well, we have become used to landscapes being either for agriculture, or for ornament, yet this simplification overlooks the fact that we can have landscapes that are multi-functional and that they can also be productive in other ways.
To understand this concept, we should look to agroforestry, or forest gardens, where multi-functionalism is the order of the day. We think of these systems as being in tropical or temperate regions, yet there are many plants that can be organised and used in this fashion in arid lands. I want to focus this article on one aspect only, the production of biomass. Biomass has multiple functions: the production of poles for building and firewood, compost, and when shredded, mulch. We can produce biochar, which is seen as an increasingly important part of long-term soil enrichment and carbon sequestration. There are also food and fodder crops which would be a valuable product, dependent upon species. And of course, verdant biomass supports verdant wildlife.
Many of these plants are also nitrogen-fixers and these are especially valuable for building fertility and assisting the development of other species. Whilst some may have allelopathic properties, which inhibit the germination of other seedlings within the root zone, my general observation is that this is not particularly effective, nor a problem.
So a list of trees that would grow in the Middle East unirrigated, can be coppiced and are nitrogen fixers, would include:
Acacia (Senegalia) senegal
Prosopis cineraria (possibly)
Other species, coppicable but non-nitrogen fixing, would include:
Azadirachta indica (assumed from observed regrowth)
Conocarpus lancifolius (assumed from observed regrowth)
There will be many other species that could fit these lists, but it’s a start. Many ornamental trees, such as Millingtonia and even Delonix show tendencies to throw up epicormic growth from wounds and therefore, in theory might coppice, but I am concentrating on trees which can do this without irrigation.
It’s important to say right here that this shouldn’t ever be designed as a monoculture; there is sound ecological reasons to to maximise the diversity of a planting. Naturally, you wouldn’t use everything, for conditions will suit some better than others for any given site. Nor would you coppice everything all at the same time. Staggering the harvest evens out the work-flow but more importantly, creates communities of plants at different stages of growth. The “edge zones” are always where the greatest biodiversity occurs, for you get the overlap of differing ecologies. Whilst each species will have it’s own regrowth rate and optimum cutting cycle, this can also be varied, according to the use of the product.
Of course, there is a problem, for many of these species are incredibly thorny, which is a real issue for those carrying out the coppice-work. Young vigorous growth also tends to have the most vicious thorns! On a larger scale, it may be possible to use forestry-style Forwarder tractor-trailer units to collect the brush and load it directly into the chipping machine hopper, without human intervention. Someone’s still got to cut it and do initial handling though.
So how do we express this idea, of coppiced woodlands, arid-land style? it would depend on context but there are several approaches we could take. On a large scale, machine operated (as mentioned above), we would have to do traditional layouts with alleys or rows, firebreaks etc. Mixed planting though, would be preferable although strips of one species are possible. If kept narrow, with different species to either side, the effect ecologically would be similar to mixed planting.
In smaller areas, or where human interaction is intended, then these could take the form of the mixed, seeded landscapes that I discussed in my previous article. In other words, we can combine the function with the elements of aesthetics and ecological diversity. Not to mention desert reclamation. Remember, all this is proposed as unirrigated land. The verges along main roads are a prime candidate, instead of over-manicured lawns and hedges that you see at many junctions.
My next article will discuss design, the knowledge and training needed for the creation of such landscapes. I believe we could transform the landscapes of the Middle East, without the intensive irrigation that is required by conventional approach.
If you work in the realm of landscapes, you cannot ignore the huge rise in
the use of artificial plants, “green” walls and especially, grass. It’s a
booming business and many companies are doing very well from it. But we should
also be hearing warning bells ringing about how damaging these things are, both
to the environment and to our individual well-being.
I’m concerned about this damage, mostly to our inner beings. I wonder if we have become unable to
comprehend that such things show our disconnection from the real. I’ve worked with plants all my life and
always my prime motive has been our connection to nature. Now I design, write, think, talk; always my
concern is for the environment and the well-being of the human spirit. This artificiality
in landscape betrays both these things.
It is not enough to say this, so I must justify it, even though the obligation should really be the other way around; people who purvey such things should have to prove that they don’t cause ill-effects. But such is the state of human consciousness that commercial profit always comes before anything else.
This is not an article about the merits of grass as such, nor what we might use as natural substitutes; that topic has been written about many times. This is about what we do to ourselves when we surround ourselves with fakery – and I don’t mean in politics, although there are parallels, doubtless.
We constantly sell ourselves short on what it is we actually need, as
individuals. This is me, an environmental designer, saying us humans should be
selfish, and demand more. But not more in material terms, in things. More in
Soul, in environmental harmony, in biophilic contact. More respect for the
awesomeness of Nature. How can we substitute the reality of Nature with
plastic, and tell ourselves it’s okay? This is self-deception on a massive scale,
and we need to be aware of it, and reject it.
Before going further on the psychological front, let’s talk about the
environment. Artificial plants are mostly made from plastic (although high end
plants may be silk). Plastic is a one-way route to pollution and there is no
difference between the plastic in a green or artificial grass and the plastic
that’s floating around in our oceans. It’s the same stuff and will end up in
landfill, being burnt or in the sea as microplastics, amongst its peers.
Artificial grass also is responsible for killing off the soil and its
ecosystem in areas that once were living. Even (real) lawns are of
environmental benefit, although other forms of landscape are preferable and
yield higher benefits. Yet a lawn is alive, absorbs rainwater, has a life
within of earthworms, larvae and micro-organisms, and stores a surprising
amount of carbon. Artificial lawns do the inverse of all that and are not even as
low maintenance as people think, requiring regular brushing and hosing. You must
replace it every few years, too, with rubber crumb underlay being especially problematic
to dispose of.
We buy into these products because we think we are being sold an easy life;
in fact, we are being sold a deception, that Nature can be imitated, bettered.
That you don’t have to get involved with it in any way, that the real thing
offers nothing better, that biophilia (your innate need and love of Nature) can
be mimicked. But your inner being is not deceived, just your outer one.
On the whole, we don’t realise just how disconnected we have become, in our modern
societies. Each generation has less contact with natural systems and ecologies
than the last, and each generation perceives its own experience of reality as
normal, how things are. If we could go
back 100 years, I think we’d all be astounded at the verdancy and variety of
life, of just how rich and varied Nature was.
Perhaps then we would wake up to the fact that we have forgotten our
roots and lost our way. Now, we surround ourselves with the artificial and
think that it is okay.
Landscape design doesn’t help in this respect, especially in the public
realm. Commercial space becomes
dominated by hard materials; plants, where they exist, are regimented and
ordered. Water features are devoid of
plants because they are messy, need skilled maintenance and the chemicals in
the water wouldn’t support their growth anyway.
How sad, what an opportunity missed, what absence of life in our urban landscape.
In all our striving, we should remember above all where we came from. A disconnected life allows not only the
artificial to be okay, it switches off our concern from the environmental and climate
crisis, as if we live in a bubble of man-made life, separate from the planet.
So for the sake of you own being, ditch the artificial. Embrace the messiness and verdancy of Nature,
get your hands dirty – the bacteria are good for your health and your
happiness. Let your children experience
this, teach them about that wild and somewhat frightening side of Nature, for
it needs our respect, and our love. And
if we love Nature, we might just find we can finally love ourselves.
There are few aspects of our built environment more emotive that that of the entrance door. It can mean shelter, warmth, food, security, friendship. All of life involves the act of entrance, from the earliest caveman to the present day.
How many times per day do we go in and out of buildings and our homes? We scarcely stop to think about it, yet entrances all convey subconscious messages which can affect us on deeper levels, for good or ill. Some doorways are enticing, friendly; some oppressive; some just dingy and neglected. Most are probably functional and non-descript, of itself a message just as powerful as the others.
We move from our homes to cars, to shops, offices or other houses. Each time we do this we experience a subtle shift in light levels, humidity, warmth, expectations and intentions. Our mood shifts and adjusts with our purpose and our expectations. Going to work we might subconsciously don a mask as we enter busy offices or a large railway station. Arriving home again, we relax as we walk up the path, shedding the mask as we close the door behind us.
A Wisteria-covered pergola gives a deep connection between the kitchen door, driveway, outhouse and rear garden
The physical structure of a building and its entrances tell us what to expect: grand doorways with tall columns tell us of status, power and authority. Grim entrances to prisons have an unmistakable message. In public buildings especially, proportion is everything, where tall ceilings and doors give formality. By contrast a humble cottage door or an old garden gate recessed into an ivy-covered wall might look secretive or inviting, asking us to explore the spaces beyond. What do the doors to our homes tell us? Most front doors are rather bland or feel inauthentic, for example the many mock-Georgian style doors on modern houses offer us nothing more than a thin veil of pseudo-style applied over a nondescript structure.
In the home, layout and door position is also important. The front door is our formal entrance to the world, the back for our private comings and goings. Yet how many house layouts truly observe such simple criteria? Some houses have both the front and back doors equally visible, with no clear indication as to which is which. Or the back door opens onto a narrow side passage, rather than directly onto the garden. Many of us live with awkward house layouts.
Overcoming the problem of awkward flow is, however, fundamental to the harmonious functioning of a house and its occupants. On occasions when looking at a house and the way it connects to the garden, I have recommended the re-location of the rear door. It sounds extreme but I have had several clients who were very glad they took my advice. Fundamental problems sometimes need bold solutions and the picture below is one such example. Here, a new connection from kitchen into the garden via a (new) seating area made a big transformation.
New French doors give connection to the garden, creating a new experience in this house
French or patio doors aren’t always the bonus they’re meant to be, though. Sometimes these confuse the traffic-flow and can destroy the usability of the room in which they occur. Lines of movement (inside or out) should not cut through a still-point. Of course, sliding doors which truly open up the house and invite a more relaxed transition can be fantastic. It’s all down to careful thought and good design.
So much for placement, what of the physical act of entering and leaving? All too often it’s a bit, well, abrupt. Ground and wall meet at the perpendicular, at which point, there’s a door. You open it, go in or out. That’s it – all over with. Yet it takes a moment to adjust, from one environment to another, both physically (light and warmth) and mentally (tasks, purpose, relaxation). Ideally therefore, we need a space in which to adjust, to experience transition, even if it’s for just one second. That space becomes an area that is “in-between” – it could be a porch to the front entrance or a pergola to the rear. A covered walkway might lead to the car, a path or set of steps might connect us to the garden.
How this transitional space is styled will of course depend upon its use. For a front door, nothing beats a good porch or recessed doorway. The visitor waits in this transitional space for the door to be opened, the owner pauses to find their keys. Both might be glad to be out of the rain, or bathed in a welcoming light at night. Where possible, the porch should be preceded in the approach by a path and suitable planting, building up the sense of arrival. In these days of open-plan front gardens, attention to these simple things can make a big difference.
Where a door fronts onto a street, a roof canopy over the door and some tubs or wall planters might serve. A step up onto a different level might be frowned upon by planners, but where disabled access is not an issue, a step up, off the pavement can make a huge difference – suddenly we are in stasis, out of the busy flow of the main path.
To the rear, where a door connects you to the garden, there are multiple ways to enrich the experience of transition. A pergola might frame a door and be part of a larger structure which defines an outdoor room. Conservatories and lean-tos might be the connecting space. Loggias and verandas make a great transitional area. Where the back door has to be to the side of the house, perhaps make a shady passage covered by pergola, with ferns, foliage and climbers to give dappled light. Choose a good brick or stone and make it feel like a tunnel leading out into the garden proper.
So think about the way you move in and out of your house. Imagine the use, mood and character you wish to create and then find the structure to answer that need. A good entrance can really root a building into its environment and enhance the user experience considerably. If a building feels settled, like it belongs, you will too. Don’t put up with the merely adequate – enrich that transitional moment and rediscover the lost art of entrance.
I’ve been unusually quiet on the blog front – but something has been brewing. I’ve been preparing a new green walling company – Vertology (the art of/science of vertical green-ing). I’ve done this to build on my experience gained from the company I conceived and co-founded, Biotecture, back in 2007, and my time since then working internationally as a designer. Vertology aims to take greening up to the next level, to increase expertise, plant knowledge, systems design and affordability. A tall order, but it is there to do!
Vertology will make its debut at the Chelsea Flower Show where it is providing six green walls for the RNIB fresh garden, sponsored by Countryside Properties and witht he garden designed by LDC. I’ve never seen so much intensive design in a small space! Can’t wait to see it finished. Here are the walls growing in the Vertology greenhouse.
We have 4000m2 of automated greenhouse to grow our greenwalls in, and are very excited about the prospects. MLD continues it’s work in a design/consultancy capacity. See you at Chelsea? www.vertology.uk.com
With my new website design (www.marklaurence.com), all my articles might seem to have disappeared. Because I’m focussing the new site on the design of green walls and related urban greening services, I’ve made the articles section a sub-site – www.marklaurence.com/articles.html – so they are still available. I get a lot of readers from Google and elsewhere, and don’t want to let them down!
I’ve just posted up all my favourite old articles from my old site “the Design of Gardens”, which was always about more than just gardens! You can find articles on the following link and I will adjust the menu at right to show these.
I watched a programme recently on BBC4 about Glastonbury “after hours” by Julien Temple, looking at the fringe areas of the festival, areas with names like Shangri-La, Arcadia, Block 9, the Unfair Ground, Lost Vagueness etc. All this alternative self-expression, borne out of the likes of Archaos and the traveller movement; dreads and drugs writ large. Or really, just an inevitable extension of these things. I haven’t been to Glastonbury since the mid 80’s, but probably like many, I watched with fascination and bemusement, but I was paying attention to the claims of purpose behind it all, of the founding of new societies and ways of living in an age of coming societal breakdown. It’s the same story behind the hippy movement, permaculture and transition towns, and there are elements of truth to such claims, but big misunderstandings of how things will really be.
Let’s pause and think about this festival; how does it come to be? We could say it’s because of the vision of a single farmer who has the space and inclination to organise such a thing. I would say it came about (as many things do) because we live in a society of surplus wealth, which allows us to indulge in self expression and exploration and which supports this, even if mainstream attitudes seem to be against it. How else do these people lead ”alternative” lives? They are supported, either directly, by benefits, or indirectly, by the availability of fossil fuels; how else are the welding machines they use to create their sculptural expressions powered? Not by sunlight (directly), nor by lentils. How else are their mad max-like machines powered? Recycled chip fat? Sorry that was grown with fossil fuels.
The rather sad fact is that if they had the societal breakdown they want (they’ll get it sooner or later), they’d all be out in the fields toiling, or excavating by hand old rubbish dumps, looking for resources we now call waste. There would be precious little time for parties or festivals. There will be the freedom and lack of central government control we now have, but with such demise comes lawlessness and insecurity. The hand they bite feeds us pretty well right now, with little oppression or control – hence the existence of the festival.
I love the expressions of freedom witnessed, I love the human spirit being free and I hate the mundanity of life that our (seemingly) secure society brings. I just don’t think that the “alternative” scene is actually that alternative, nor does it have any clear vision of future life as we will all come to know it in the coming decades. It’s simple: self-indulgence, alternative or otherwise (and what’s the difference, if you own a fleet of Ferraris you are indulging in the same sense), is the product of energy surplus, and that’s what’s coming to an end. All that depends on it will fall by the wayside, starting with the things that are superfluous, like festivals. Never mind; the timeless bits, like camp fires and singing, will continue and likely increase as we have less alternatives for warmth and entertainment. And a future life will be very different from now, once we’ve been through the pain bit (y’know, the next 50 years or so). There will come a day when our grandchildren don’t know what this society was like, so won’t miss it. The only question is, will they merely survive or thrive? That’s the difference we can make now, for them, by facing where we’re at and planning forward. Less self-indulgence please, more forethought. Our alternative future is just around the corner…
Well I keep moving things around and changing the site, so i tried to move the blog to a different folder and it didn’t work, despite my best attempts a editing the SQL files… sigh! So i rescued some of my recent posts from the old one and have stuck them back up here; of course, all the search engine links will have broken… never mind!!