Issue link: http://papercitymagazine.uberflip.com/i/579640
OCTOBER | PAGE 87 | 2015 work. He has endless energy." Barden became a facilitator, introducing Giubbilei to a new language of the tropics. Together they embarked on this verdant adventure. "I loved driving around Houston with Luciano, helping him learn more about Texas plants, tropical plants," Barden says. "The landscaper with a look — dressed in jeans, Prada tennis shoes and his signature white linen shirt — jumping out of my car before I had come to a full stop, snapping photographs of crape myrtles and magnolias, ligularia and autumn ferns." Of Giubbilei's response to the semi-tropical foliage of Houston, "He loved the Texas redbud trees and big elephant ears. He shot hundreds and hundreds of photographs before laying out his plan." His resulting garden includes 18,000 autumn ferns. "The light, delicate plant shows the movement of the wind," Barden says. "Luciano chose them to resemble a soft green carpet for the floor of the meadow garden." Lest anyone be beguiled by his looks or charming demeanor, this man of the earth is a force of nature. "Beyond the appealing angel face," Barden says, "there lurks a type-A control freak. It will come as no surprise that he designs the garden furniture. He specs every light fixture and bulb." Perfection was not an ideal; it was a goal to be achieved in every element. "When we were shopping, we were on a mission to find the perfect boxwood, the most interesting tree. Which reminds me, the man who likes perfectly matched trees, also loves contorted trees. He sometimes selects trees with twisted trunks and limbs as signature pieces in his gardens." Reflecting on a 2 1/2-year odyssey with Giubbilei, Barden believes his unwavering aesthetic has been realized in the Houston art house commission. GIUBBILEI IN THE GARDEN Let's begin with your process. What goes into a Giubbilei garden? All of the gardens that you see … whether they are on the website or the art in the book, each tree is chosen in person. How can you get the feeling of a tree from a photograph? There could be a tree that you look at and pass every day, or something that you see, but you think about the tree in the project. So immediately that is a character, a feeling, that the tree carries. And it's a beautiful feeling for this garden. Why you design gardens. It is the fact that beautiful spaces are very rare. Beautiful public spaces for people, or a beautiful private garden is very rare. On you and trees. Trees are probably the easiest plant for people to understand. They're already there, and they're standing in front of you, and there is a scale and beds where they distribute the leaves … I have a book that illustrates the feeling of a tree in the winter, and the feeling of a tree in the summer, and what that brings into the space. And we can all understand that. Your vision for this Houston commission. It needs to be what nobody else has planted. I think it's interesting to be able to work in this way; you have to be collaborative. There could be a person at the botanical gardens in Chicago, someone who has been working with plants all of his life … he could fly over here and look at the plant conditions here, and he would know that the conditions here are the same as they are in Asia, in the east part of the world. And he knows that what grows there can also grow here. That sort of understanding. I love it, because it means we can make spaces that are unique, but also a different narrative for the people we're working with. Your gardens feel very ceremonial and formal. Your book traces your sense of a garden and nature to your Italian upbringing, specifically Siena. Yes, they are very theatrical spaces. I think there is something about being born and living in Siena. Siena — when I talk about it, I always talk about the density, the density of the architecture, and growing up, and playing with my friends in these narrow streets. The narrow streets are something that you always remember. But what you remember the most is the mornings, especially during the summer, you have this feel of the morning sun and the pigeons. And after you have all of this unfolding of the light, so one side is dark and one side is light, and it's a very dramatic event over the day. And I remember upon first living in England, that was the thing that I missed the most. I missed the light on the buildings, and the warmth of that, and how it was an unfolding drama. On how the memory of Siena's light and shadow carried out into your career as creator of gardens around the globe. I think with gardens, or design in general, there is a kind of seduction. In a way that seduction, if you like, is given by the light. There are things that you can and can't predict. There are things you can arrange in a certain way, but there are things that just happen because of the light. You can only leave space to the objects so the light comes through the voids, and can define the object. There are all of these things that the light also defines, a certain design. On invoking light in your gardens. A very good client said to me, "I was looking at your garden, and I thought how simple is this garden. The more I stay in the garden, the more I get what you do; how the light defines your gardens." And I don't get many clients that speak to me like that about my work or what I do in the space. But it was an extremely sensitive person that was observing this space and light … I don't do anything about light, I just create the spacing. The power of repetition. If you think about, or have ever been to Siena, they have a very famous square, which is called Piazza del Campo. Piazza del Campo has about 100 pillars in the shape of a shell. You become infused by an understanding of what is powerful, visually, what is pleasing and what is relaxing. It's the idea of Clockwise from top: Giubbilei commission for The Boltons, London; Chelsea Flower Show 2014 (Best in Show Gold Medal Winner); two views of the Chelsea Flower Show 2011's Gold-Medal garden. GARDEN IMAGES STEVEN WOOSTER, © LUCIANO GIUBBILEI