The Lessons of Landscape

Landscape architecture has long understood the importance of sustainable and ecological design. In a roundtable discussion with +Plus, the Foster + Partners' Urban Design and Landscape team consider how landscape and architecture are closely connected - throughout our built environment and within the collaborative ways that we design it.

‘Today, landscape has more to teach architecture than architecture does landscape.’ This recent remark by Kenneth Frampton, architectural critic and historian, registers the concerns felt today by many professionals in the built environment. How can we design sustainably in a climate and biodiversity crisis? How can we endorse and improve the design of public space? And how can we connect people with their environment – a relationship which the modern world so often severs?

Landscape architecture might be able to answer these questions, given that it is a discipline that has long addressed itself to concerns which are increasingly being brought to the attention of architecture: climate resilience, the responsibility to protect natural habitats and ecological systems, the effects of landscape design on human health and wellbeing, and the short- and long-term environmental impacts of building. A rich and varied field of design, landscape architecture has an essential part to play in the future of our built environment and, by extension, the future of our planet.

Foster + Partners’ professional landscape team are an essential part of the practice, working alongside architects, urban designers, and environmental engineers throughout the development of the design, implementation, and on-site supervision of construction and planting. The skillsets within this team vary greatly – from rigorous site analysis to ecological expertise, environmental psychology to maintenance planning. Equipped with this wide array, the landscape architects can propose design solutions to make projects more climate-conscious, contextually-aware, adaptable to change, welcoming for many varieties of life and valued by those who use them – in a word: more sustainable. Such outcomes are made possible through the practice’s interdisciplinary ways of working. As Ahmed Abdelsalam, Landscape Architect at Foster + Partners observes:

Architecture and landscape constantly respond to and influence one another. This means that the way that we design must, similarly, be interconnected.

Emerging from the Garden

The Norton Museum of Art in West Palm Beach, Florida (2019) is a direct result of this productive relationship between landscape and architecture. Working with the director of Norton, a plant enthusiast and advocate for ecological design, Foster + Partners' masterplan envisaged a major new garden as an integral part of the museum, replacing an outdated parking lot. The redesign of the museum and its gardens had also to include the strict preservation of an eighty-year-old banyan tree and required a design strategy that could refer to ecological expertise. Alongside three arborists, who conducted ground radar scans of the tree’s roots, Foster + Partners’ Landscape Architecture team became an integral part of the project.

The team proposed a design solution rooted in horticultural knowledge. This evolved to a project-wide planting approach that used local, native species that suited Florida’s tropical climate and ecosystems. As the design unfolded, it also became clear that Norton’s garden was not only playing an ecological role but a curatorial one. The rich, textured planting became a stage for the museum’s sculptures and installations. The garden’s shaded walkways and seating helped to bring the museum’s collections to life and formed a series of outdoor rooms. By extending the gallery space beyond the four walls of the museum, encounters between landscape, architecture, and art were celebrated, all within a climate- and context-sensitive design.

Landscape at Foster + Partners

Foster + Partners has long understood the importance of landscape, with early uses of landscape architecture developed in projects completed by Team 4, of which Norman Foster was a co-founder. Creek Vean House (1966), for example, is a private house seemingly inseparable from its sloping site in Cornwall, England.

Mindful of its natural setting, Foster described the house and how the team designed it to ‘fit into its waterfront surroundings by generating a garden on the roof. As this starts to become overgrown,’ he explained at the time of its construction, ‘the house will recede into its creek-side Cornish setting.’

Creek Vean’s grass-covered steps and roof are then echoed in the later Willis Faber & Dumas building in Ipswich, completed by Foster Associates in 1975. The landscape – or ‘roofscape’ – was an unconventional move for an office building at the time but was firmly rooted in sustainable and integrated thinking. The grass roof provides thermal insulation as well as fresh air and sunlight for those working in the building – a union of engineering and wellbeing principles.

Foster + Partners’ architectural interpretation of landscape resulted in numerous successful projects in the following decades. From nature entering the building in Commerzbank’s nine sky gardens (1997), to the Great Glasshouse that forms the centrepiece of the 230-hectare National Botanic Garden of Wales (2000).

In 2003, the practice delivered the re-working of Trafalgar Square in London. Foster + Partners pedestrianised the north side of the square to allow greatly improved pedestrian access to the National Gallery – a bold decision which required redrawing central transport and pedestrian routes. Though not immediately recognisable as a ‘landscape’ project (which often conjures images of greenery) the intentions of the masterplan were deeply embedded in the principles of landscape design: how people move around, and how outdoor, public space can influence the experience of architecture. These were ideals extolled by one of the practice’s earliest landscape architects, Edward Hutchison, at London Stansted Airport (1991) and the Carré d’Art, Nîmes (1993).

Site analysis: Understanding the landscape

The legacy of such an extensive and varied project history is a determination to avoid a one-size-fits-all approach, and a commitment to the reality of the site and the specific requirements of a brief: ‘We want to get to the heart of every project,’ Nick Haddock, Head of Landscape Architecture at Foster + Partners, reflects.

Getting to the ‘heart’ of a project requires, first and foremost, a comprehensive understanding of the site. Site analysis covers an array of landscape features: hydrology, topography and terrain, soil condition, sunlight and wind direction, meteorology, geology, existing vegetation, archaeology, and accessibility (to name a few). Some of this analysis can be done remotely and can be gathered and expressed via maps, drawings, images, graphs, lists, and reports. Alongside this, Aitor Arconada Ledesma, Landscape Architect in the practice, insists on the importance of site visits:

Because we are an international practice, we might have projects in the United States and Asia and Australia simultaneously; each location has its own climate, its own ‘canvas’ which we need to understand. The site visit is an essential way to gain this understanding and go beyond superficial data on a place. We spend time walking through the site, taking photographs, making notes, and perhaps collecting soil or mineral samples to bring back to the team.

As information about the site is gathered, Aitor reminds us that spending sustained time with the project is vital:

Things can seem to happen or appear by chance – and that can feel magical – but I believe this chance is only possible because of an extended engagement with that landscape. Site visits balance sustained observation and technical analysis with the capacity to take in new information about what is working and what isn’t, and what might be possible.

Site analysis was key to the updated landscape strategy of Bishops Square, which was completed in 2023. Having developed the area twenty years earlier, Foster + Partners already had a comprehensive understanding of the research and plans. Roman archaeological remains on the site had already been catalogued. This provided a rigorous analytical basis from which to develop an updated plan. Aitor adds:

The information gained from early site visits can often make its way into future proposals – a reminder of their foundational role and the need to engage, first and foremost, at a site-specific level.

The Landscape Architecture team commissioned tree surveys to analyse the health and the spread of the root systems of the planted, matured, trees and worked closely with the London Fire Brigade to safeguard evacuation routes. As Aitor says, the pressures on a site can also be legislative: ‘The London planning system works in such a way that you have to document everything you learn and justify how that links to your proposal.’ Site analysis is not just a way of working but an essential requirement of designing and building today.

Foster + Partners decided to retain the existing 2004 paving given its high quality as well as the benefits of extending the lifespan of existing materials. The updates to Bishops Square involved a series of strategic moves: the addition of water features, the extension of green space, the protection of trees, the display of significant Roman artefacts, and a change in the layout of benches and planting so that people felt less overlooked by the buildings and therefore more relaxed. These interventions transformed how the space serves the needs of both visitors and those working in the buildings around the square. The client has since reported a 35 per cent increase in footfall (compared with pre-covid levels).

Ecological approaches to landscape

These ‘key moves’ are closely aligned with a deep understanding of the site. As Landscape Architect Chanakya Rajani suggests, these moves need to account for the environmental context as well as the project: ‘Any interventions on the landscape need to work in the direction of nature and not against it… otherwise it will fail.’

But how to figure out ‘the direction of nature’? The site visit is a familiar practice for both the architect and the landscape architect, and is one way to find out how the natural world and the site interact. However, perhaps one of the most noticeable divergences of landscape from architecture is its referral to a unique scale: that of the ecosystem. Working in-house as part of the Landscape Architecture team, ecologist Alex Gault comments:

In the site visit, you zoom in; in ecology, you zoom in and out. You have to look at the entire district and region to understand how different aspects of the natural world link up. For an ecologist, the focus is on understanding the biodiversity of an area and how it might have changed. And that then provides more information about what potential is there, even when that is not immediately obvious on the site.

The analytical questions that an ecologist might ask are not immediately architectural or urban but are of course implicated by the practices of both: How does a water source in the north affect a river or lake in the south, and how does this affect aquatic life? Are there any protected species and what do these species need to survive? What types of species would be expected to live on or travel through this site, and can architectural interventions aid or hinder their survival?

Similar to Aitor’s analysis of Bishops Square, Alex also studies the ecological history of a site to understand how its biodiversity and habitat have changed over time. Artworks, historical maps and surveys, as well as satellite images taken years – sometimes decades – apart can all be used to (re)construct a timeline. ‘By understanding how a region has changed, we can understand what can be recovered and how to move forward.’ The goal is not necessarily to exactly reconstruct a historical habitat, but rather to protect and improve existing ecologies within the parameters of what might be possible, equipped with an understanding of what once was.

Foster + Partners’ recent renovation of the Transamerica Pyramid in San Francisco called for an ecologically and historically sensitive approach. Redwood Park – consisting of nearly 50 mature redwood trees transplanted from the Santa Cruz Valley to the site in 1974, which are now over 100 feet tall – surrounds the base of the Pyramid. It was imperative that these trees were safeguarded, and any landscape interventions worked in the direction of ecological protection.

Foster + Partners studied the original plans of the park, designed in part by William Pereira, as well as the past and present ecological status of the site. This allowed additional landscape details to be added that could support the Redwoods’ ecological habitat, as well as activate the perimeter of the building and guide the transition between indoor and outdoor.

Additionally, Mark Twain Street – which leads to the base of the pyramid and features curated cafes, shops, and restaurants – was lined with plum blossom trees (a species native to this region of California) to introduce seasonal colour and transitions to the site.

Biophilia and feeling through the landscape

Analysis at a site-specific and ecological scale is vital in a landscape design, partly because it can provide data on how human activity has shaped the environment to this point. Other components of landscape design – psychological and sociological studies – analyse the role of people in nature slightly differently: How does landscape become a ‘sensation,’ or an experience? How is it perceived, felt, and absorbed?

One of the greatest gifts of nature and landscape, acknowledged throughout history, is its ability to soothe, heal, transform, and provide people with a space for relaxation and reflection. As Marta Saniewska, an in-house environmental psychologist states: ‘Our brains and nervous systems evolved in landscape, and we are therefore hard-wired to respond to it. In a way, it is a universal language that our bodies can speak.’

The relationship between the body and the natural environment is termed, in environmental studies, as biophilia. There are numerous principles to biophilic design, which move beyond the visual realm, to the olfactory, the aural, the haptic, and the kinaesthetic. Natural light and shade, thermal and airflow variability, and forms and patterns that offer a material connection with nature are a few ways that biophilia might enter a design. Marta explains one example:

Water is a fundamental aspect of landscape. Water can have so many incarnations – a pond, a waterfall, a fountain, a flowing stream, a still lake, the sea, or rain, steam, or ice. Each version has different auditory profiles, different textures, different depths, different rates of movement, and supports different kinds of organic life. And we, as humans, respond to these incarnations differently.

There is evidence today, for example, on the potential links between green space and recovery from injury; being in the presence of organic materials (such as timber or stone) can reduce blood pressure and stress, as can the sounds of water or birdsong. Such peer-reviewed data is useful in convincing stakeholders to invest in landscape design, as it provides a statistically backed promise to improve wellbeing. This has been known before it was measured; even a keystone report on the principles of biophilic design admits to its ‘rediscovering the intuitively obvious.’

Efforts to quantify biophilia with user data can be a powerful and convincing strategy. However, the team is cautious to reduce landscape’s effects to only those quantifiable in this way. Landscape might provoke a mood, a feeling, an atmosphere which, as Marta reminds is ‘an experiential proof in itself.’

Additionally, a landscape can have a social and cultural dimension and act as a repository of collective narratives. Biophilic features might be valued and desired differently by one group of people compared to another, and landscape architects must exercise this contextual awareness alongside the map, the graph, or the dataset.

Biophilic design’s application in healthcare is proving particularly rewarding. Anh Tran, a Landscape Architect at Foster + Partners, outlines the team’s developing ideas for a medicine garden that weaves various aspects of biophilia into the landscape design for a hospital. The garden’s planting reflects different medicinal qualities such as vitamin gardens (Amaranthus, Spinacia olderacea), herbs associated with cancer treatment, scented herbs (Ocimum sanctum, Jasminum sambac, Lavandula, Cestrum nocturnum) – the majority of which are native to the proposed design’s region.

The garden design offers a mix of private sheltered areas and more public spaces. A stream of gently flowing water runs along the garden perimeter and fountains are introduced in the centre, meaning that patients are never far from water. Ten minutes of listening to water lowers cortisol levels after a stressor, and a visual connection with water has also been shown to lower your heart rate.

Beyond water, the multisensory aims of the garden drove much of its design. Planting that sways in the wind contributes to a relaxing auditory experience. Natural materials, such as benches made of chiselled wood and sandstone – again local to the area – appeal to the touch. The paving and water features are made of laterite stone, which is not only a resilient material but is wheelchair-friendly and slip-resistant. Finally, a lightly gravelled pathway can help to improve balance for patients in recovery by creating natural reflexology. Shapes were chosen for adequate levels of visual complexity and their meditative qualities. ‘Only when we can see, hear and touch (in some cases, smell and taste too),' add Anh, 'will the full health benefits emerge.’

Landscapes in time

In the same way that landscape challenges conventional architectural scales and analytical methods, it also challenges architecture’s sense of time. Due to commercial pressures, the design industry often collapses building and landscape into the same project timeline. While architects acknowledge that no building is ever really ‘finished’, this is particularly true as ribbons are cut and press photographs taken of the landscape which might be years away from maturing.

Landscape architects must therefore be careful about what early visualisations promise – not because they are incorrect, but because results emerge over many years. . ‘A landscape is bound to change,’ Fillipo Foshi, Landscape Architect, puts it: ‘It takes time.’ This raises questions about what ‘completion’ means for a landscape architect.

The notion of a finished landscape is also challenged by the natural processes of weather, seasons, light, growth, erosion, and deposition. Architects imagine these processes unfolding in a series of images (on building completion day, in several years, or even decades later, for example; or through spring, summer, autumn and winter).

The security and availability of funding, the action and communication of maintenance, and how people value landscape all also determine how a proposed design develops. These pressures are often beyond the immediate control of a design or the designer and are further complicated by the increasingly volatile pressures of climate change.

Perhaps this explains why ‘engineered landscapes’ – created via the interdisciplinary application of engineering and other applied sciences, with specific goals and performance criteria in mind – have been evolving as a potential solution. While landscape engineering is part of Foster + Partners’ capability, the total transformation of a landscape this involves can be an extreme option, often working narrowly for one outcome (such as the diversion and control of water by a concrete-channelled river) rather than for an ecosystem and its community. Instead, the team tend to opt for ‘nature-based solutions’ which can be integrated into an overall design. At times, landscape and architecture are blended through indoor planting, urban gardens, or civic spaces; other times, it might be better to separate and protect the landscape from the encroachments of architecture.

A case for landscape

Landscape Architecture, as a discipline, repeatedly challenges the assumption that landscape is ‘what is left over or outside of the building’ (as Ahmed puts it) and, in doing so, prompts a reorientation of priorities. A landscape design can indeed support and enhance an architectural project, but it is not merely a means of framing a building. A landscape strategy is essential in improving the climate resilience of a project, protecting biodiversity, and delivering a long-term, sustainable design.

Working in-house at Foster + Partners, the Landscape Architecture team offer alternative ways of analysing and approaching their challenges, which can then feed directly into a design as it progresses. By learning what landscape can teach architecture, as Frampton suggests, more sustainable ways of building can emerge.