Behind the 2.3 linear miles of wasted canvass, and the 7.3 wasted tons of oil-paint, (which are legally bound not to be recycled !) there is a very nice public garden. It has taken me decades to understand Spanish gardens. The cues to understanding gardens are rooted in religion. Gardens are little pieces of paradise. The are what we love and do not have. To the tame Engish the great desire is some kind of order within disorder, to the bordelique French, the dream is order itself within the persistent anarchy of the hexagon (France itself). Between the ducks the kiosks, the fountains, the trees the boules areas, I found myself wondering what the designer of a Spanish park held most sacred. The answer is astonishingly simple. He wants it to contain many places. There is absolutely no finesse in which these places are thrown together. (This is not England !) But accumulating places is a kind of wealth on itself. This is the key to Spanish gardening.
Posted on: Mon, 30 Sep 2013 21:45:53 +0000
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