The Huntington Gardens
Henry Huntington’s act of opening up his personal gardens to the public for viewing would agree in theory with Stephen Greenblatt who remarked, “treasured objects exist not principally to be owned, but to be viewed”(52). Although the Gardens are not physically in a museum, they encompass many elements found in traditional Western museums. Like curators of typical museums who are in charge of the location and positioning of artifacts, those who are in charge of the Gardens must decide about the selection of vegetation, including the collaboration and placement of pieces to create a stimulating landscape. In essence, the Gardens serve to aesthetically stimulate their viewers in a non-inhibiting way, allowing them to decide for themselves the course that they take and the experience that they leave with. Thus, by not falling subject to the mode of western museums, the Huntington Gardens act as an alternative museum experience and allow visitors to engage in the wonder of a purely aesthetic environment. Although the gardens present visitors with the illusion of natural space, they are truly a manipulated form of created space that serve to help viewers appreciate nature.
Instantly, upon arrival at the Huntington one begins to select the course that they will take to experience the gardens as they please. What they may not realize, though, is that the individual gardens will be in fact manipulating their experience in relating to nature. The assumption that a garden does not manipulate its viewer is simply false. The Huntington Gardens were designed and are continually manicured to alter the experience of viewers with selective vegetation and landscaping. Each garden in the Huntington grounds is distinctly different from the next and reflective only of its natural environment. The Australian gardens are nothing like the Rose gardens, which are nothing like the Zen gardens, and so on. The deliberate organization of vegetation is a clear man made manipulation to engage the viewer in different levels of viewing. By directing allocation in size, number, and positioning of plants and trees, the artist of the gardens – the landscaper, partakes in painting a picture for his viewers. Artists of the gardens have the ability to draw focus to a broad panoramic spectrum, or to draw them close to a small intricate cluster of plant arrangements.
For example, after emerging from a dense path through the Australian garden, visitors finds themselves facing an expansive field of lush greens, mixed with dozens of little yellow flowers. Upon first glance of this sea of vibrant green and yellow, a viewer’s gaze almost automatically centers on a tall marble statue, stark, in the middle of the greenery. This statue acts as a marker to make the panoramic view appear symmetrical. However, upon further investigation, if one actually transverses the open field to the statue, up close the shrubbery surrounding the statue actually creates an entirely different scene than could be observed from far away. The branches are trimmed in a manner such that they equally reach in to surround the body of the statue but not touch it, giving it the eerie effect that it almost seems to float. However, from far away, none of this is at all observable.
Although it is true that the individual gardens are manipulative of gaze, they are not manipulative of the course one selects to view the gardens in their entirety. Initially, visitors may select to either have a guided tour or opt to wander the area without assistance. As I found exploring by myself, throughout the gardens there were small markers to indicate how to direct yourself to a different garden, but nothing to force you to take one path instead of another. Additionally, there were miniature signs with the name and origin of certain plants mounted tastefully in the ground, making sure not to obstruct the viewer’s gaze. As compared to the normal museum experience, this diminutive amount of information did not force the viewer to feel as though they had to pay attention to specifics about the vegetation, rather than just enjoy it for its beauty.
During my visit I simply wandered through one garden and proceeded to the next, in no specified direction and with no specified time limit. Most of the time, I was wondering off the worn paths to pursue my own personal interests. This I realized was supported by the museum, as they had positioned benches off the beaten path to draw spectators to places not so regulated, thus giving license to roam openly about the gardens. In this manner, it seemed the gardens were laid out to be viewed simply at leisure, with a minimal amount of signs and direction to attend to.
In creating an atmosphere where I didn’t have to care about reading long narratives about what I was viewing, I allowed myself to slip into a world of aesthetic importance and was taken aback by the natural beauty of the gardens. My attention was just as equally held by stunning panoramic views, as it was by an individual petal intricately swirled with pink and white. The arrangement of the vegetation that allowed the viewer’s gaze to rest anywhere was astounding. At any point, anywhere in a 360-degree rotation, the visitor could be engaged in the gardens. Looking up, down, left, right, close up, or far away there was always some object of visual interest to take pleasure in. Thus, if the Gardens could be called a museum, they would have to be called a functional museum because they never ceased to engage the visitor. When you step into the gardens you are no longer an outsider looking in, but more of an insider looking out. Encompassed by the “art,” by stretches of long surrounding vegetation, one finds it much easier to continually engage oneself in the whole of the exhibit, whereas in a museum individual cases engage and then disengage the viewer over and over. Thus, by being “inside” the art and an active participant, a viewer may gain a more through understanding of what they are seeing than if they were “outside” the art.
Being inside the art, I found a large difference between how the Huntington Gardens presents objects of visual importance versus how conventional museums present their materials. While some art is intentionally made by its maker to be displayed in museums, other objects deemed “art” are actually artifactual and never intended for display purposes at all. The gardens however, are a perfect example of art that functions like an artifact because it is in its own natural environment, but was also designed with the intent of display. In this context it can be understood why the gardens appeared so exquisitely beautiful: the vegetation’s own original beauty, in combination with their aesthetically mapped out positioning, made for the best use of nature and nurture. In a sense, the Huntington Gardens are the most functional kind of museum because the sum of its natural parts define the man-manipulated exhibit.
Additionally, I also found it striking how the Gardens appealed to so many different types and ages of people. On my visit I saw everyone from infants being carried around, to teenagers passing frisbee in the grass, to elderly couples meandering along together hand in hand. The appeal of this type of museum is its unrestrictiveness. There is nothing to indicate what is specifically to be done in its’ quarters; no headsets to listen to, no lengthy readings to cover before gaining appreciation for objects of visual interest, no arrows directing your gaze to look at x, y, and z in a orderly fashion. There are no rules against touching and investigating, only invitations of instant gratification to take in one’s surroundings and sit on a bench, smell a flower, or feed the fish. From viewing such a numerous and diverse group of people doing such a variety of different things at the Gardens, I came to conclude that there must be something universally appealing about the unrestrictiveness of open, beautiful surroundings.
As the viewer understands after visiting the Huntington, the goal of the Gardens is seemingly not to present facts or historical notes about the vegetation, but to engage the viewer, even if simply for a moment, to delight in something so natural that it almost seems awe inspiring. As Greenblatt notes, “The heart of the mystery lies with the uniqueness, authenticity, and visual power of the masterpiece, ideally displayed in such a way as to heighten its charisma, to compel and reward the intensity of the viewer’s gaze”(pg51). By explicit attention to the placement of each individual plant and coordination of color, height, texture, those in charge of the Huntington gardens were able to heighten the capacity for delighting in simple viewing. It seems almost a trick to take the ordinary and by planning and altering placement, create what viewers deem extraordinary.
In retrospect, the Huntington Gardens make for a delightful and comparable trip to a museum. The flexibility in viewing allows for individuals to create their own experience and appreciate nature as they choose to do so. Simply, the beauty of the grounds is an experience that cannot easily be forgotten, nor encountered in the exact same way more than once, which leads to the possibility of rediscovering the beauty of the Gardens over and over again.