Inspired by: Villa d'Este

The other day while traveling, I picked up a National Geographic publication that was sitting on a countertop in the public library at the San Francisco Botanical Garden.  In it, I read that Villa d’Este (the 16^th-century estate near Rome) is the inspiration for some of the most famed gardens in the US. The fountains alone.. it’s worth looking up photos, to see.

The day I visited Villa d’Este, the fountains were off- the staff at the ticket counter was apologetic about this and made sure to mention it several times, following that with, “do you still want to buy a ticket?” Maybe sales isn’t their first focus, this is a welcome thing, but I would like to say to the Villa d’Este staff- those grounds are incredible, and even without the fountains on display, worth much more than the price of admission. Which is a good thing. Which is how it should be. Exceptional design holds value even without spectacle.

People (and maybe tourists are especially prone to this).. people are encompassed by this desire-based consumerism. We want to see the nicest things, we want to have the best experience, we want…

I wonder if travel often is offset because of this insatiable wanting. Maybe we get so caught up in wanting, that we forget how to enjoy. When I hear people speak of truly great travel, they often elude to an atmosphere of spontaneity, adventure, and marveling at the little things.

This could be a reminder for all people to rekindle an appreciation of things.. in general.

Villa d’Este invites this.

GREEN as DESIGN PHILOSOPHY

At Villa d’Este, all green = all right.

It’s about more than plants. In-season plants can add beauty, but even without that bolder mix of blooms, it’s amazing. You appreciate the difference in shades of green- and the colors within the green.. some more blue, some more brown, some more dry or some holding more moisture. You can call it ‘living color theory’.

Is this an example of how landscape design is different from floral design and horticulture? When landscape design is first, it’s not as much about having every single kind of flower and color and shade. And, it’s not about placing the exact correct botanical specimen in its preferred place, or about purposefully experimenting with plants to see what different environmental conditions they can handle. Instead, it’s about working with a palette and a canvas- and creating shapes and effects based on the ways that plants come together- structurally.

DESIGN for GETTING LOST

The hedges in this garden, and the height that is achieved with both plant life and hardscaping (walls, stairs, pathways, stacked columns and pillars and boxes and planters).. contributes to an atmosphere in which you are welcomed to get a little lost. Lost in a way of immersion, without hurry.

There are many opportunities to get lost- alleys, long corridors, secluded corners- and aside from creating a sense of a different place (taking you out of your norm, and maybe also out of your day-to-day concerns)- this also has an interesting effect on sound. There is more quiet, in the sectioned spaces that are created. And, sometimes, sounds travel in lovely ways- laughter is heard from a distance. Children are heard playing. The sounds are friendly reminders of joy and lightheartedness- and you approach this more and more closely as you make your way through the maze-like grounds. You become both observer and participant in a shifting, multisensory landscape.

I imagine, way back when this was a private residence, if the estate owners would welcome guests here.. maybe they’d let them wander the grounds, and afterwards have new things to converse about. Instead of work talk, maybe the conversation would center around, ‘what did you discover in the garden?’

CONTEMPORARY APPLICATION

Villa d’Este is full of tension. Between art and practicality, decay and endurance, purpose and whimsy. Even the moss and algae, nature’s patina, are beautiful. They tell the truth of time.

It makes me wonder: how can modern design rediscover this balance? Today, too often, numbers rule. Metrics, function, efficiency. While I enjoy the numbers, I also can’t help but notice that we’ve become more practical and less creative. Yet the creative shaping of land, of space, of experience- that’s what elevates a garden beyond its function.

This isn’t a call to resurrect lavish Renaissance gardens wholesale. Instead, it’s an opportunity to consider their genius. Can we borrow their playfulness, their quiet complexities, their structure for surprise.. and integrate them subtly into contemporary spaces? Even the humblest garden can hint to these things.

FINAL THOUGHTS

In visiting Italy, especially Rome, I was impressed by permeating reminders of fallen empires- which of course are prominent in Italian history. Decay and memorial. And, this is present at Villa d’Este, too- but something different happens here, where the decay has happened really nicely. Despite being a little rough around the edges.. like the moss that is still clouding some of the aged fountains- and the algae. It’s gorgeous. Sure, some people may not appreciate moss and algae the way I do- I’m just thinking about it like art. Textures draping, colors of many varieties.. etc.

How can we enjoy the things of the past- that are markedly outdated and no longer functioning, no longer serving the society of today.. and take note of the feats and experiments that were made when numbers where not such a concern, and art could flourish, unconfined by the limitations of dollar signs?

One morning in Rome, I stopped at an especially unique café on the corner of a quieter cobblestone street. On the counter, next to the cashier’s stand, sat a small note, handwritten: “Legends never die.” Beside it was placed a miniature model of a Harley motorcycle. It struck me- an American symbol of grit and freedom placed beside a local declaration of endurance. It’s all connected somehow.

Maybe gardens teach us this, too: even past their prime, they become legend. Not because they are flawless- but because they invite us to stay present, to remember beauty, to risk creativity again.

In Italian, there’s a saying: Il dolce far niente: the sweetness of doing nothing. At Villa d’Este, that sweetness is instructional. It’s not just permission to pause; it’s an invitation to notice how much happens when nothing is forced- when design, time, and intention deepen into something lasting.