Choreographed Landscape Experience
Dumbarton Oaks, Washington, D.C.
The estate gardens of Dumbarton Oaks are richly programmed with outdoor spaces varying in formality, style, and ornamentation, but they are all matched in their elegance. Landscape rooms such as the Star Garden, the Rose Garden, and the much photographed Pebble Garden, with their richness of detail and beautiful colors and forms, often steal a visitor's eyes, but it is another of Dumbarton's gardens that most impresses me.
images: Sam Valentine
To be honest, I knew what to expect even before I arrived. Shortly before my first visit half a decade ago, one of my professors, Joseph Disponzio, had lectured quite passionately about a carefully orchestrated progression across a series of lawn terraces at Dumbarton Oaks. Last month, during my second visit, I found myself just as captivated with the terrace progression as I had been on my first, and I realized that the enthusiasm with which Professor Disponzio led us through slides in a darkened lecture hall was absolutely justified.
The North Vista is a defined outdoor room that connects the massive main house to the gardens and the "wilderness" beyond them. (Though some areas of the landscape appear to be natural woodlands, I place "wilderness" in quotation marks because even Dumbarton Oaks' wildest areas have still been designed and maintained to some degree.) The connection is established along a series of stepping lawns, and this openness allows for dramatic and unobstructed views from house to forest.
With each change in level, the language of the terraces and landscape gracefully and subtly changes. The southernmost terrace, partially enclosed by the house itself, is bound by brick walls, includes a large amount of ornamental ironwork, and is liberally adorned with intricate carved stone elements. Stepping down and away from the house and to the north, the language of wrought iron and carved stone dissipates, and the garden's architecture consists only of simple brick walls, with intermittent areas of vine coverage.
images: Sam Valentine
The pair of images above shows the different stair treatments found at the thresholds between the highest terrace and the ones that follow it. Closer to the house, the upper terrace is delineated with a brick knee wall and carved stone balustrades, and the stairs are edged with an ornate, ascending volute. The second and third terrace thresholds are much simpler, and their stairs are edged with a less flamboyant style of brickwork and a stumpy, low-profile brick newel. There is a consistent, perceptible transitioning in both ornamentation and structure, and this progression is terminated by perforated stone walls and climbing wisteria that enframes the lowest terrace.
As with many historic landscapes, it seems that the creation of the North Vista was something of a collaborative design effort through time, and it seems a bit unjust to solely credit Beatrix Farrand for the experience a visitor may have today. A bit of research indicates that Farrand and her client, Mildred Bliss, were responsible for the major strokes, but significant planting revisions and ornamental embellishments were made after her work ended.
As you walk southward, slowly climbing the terraces and nearing the house -- which is the route that I would recommend upon your first (or next) visit -- it is easy to find yourself impressed by the carefully executed progression I am discussing, the rare craftsmanship of the walls and steps, and the cohesiveness of the entire landscape. But you should know that there is one more trick in store. As you move toward the house, your view (as shown below), will be a rhythmic series of brick and carved-stone terraces, gently carrying you over its tiered lawns and up to the brick and carved-stone house.
image: Sam Valentine
When a visitor reaches the house's steps though, and takes a look back over the same central axis that he or she has just explored, something magical happens. As one takes in the 'North Vista' for which this landscape is named, the rhythmic brick steps disappear entirely. In their place, there is a soft, seemingly unbroken swath of lawn that gracefully draws the eye towards the distant, northern wilderness.
image: Sam Valentine
