The founding partner of Gustafson Porter + Bowman explains why she finds landscape architecture so fascinating, how it is great for who she is and why her mantra is ‘the sky is mine’
Kathryn Gustafson is the founding partner of landscape architect Gustafson Porter + Bowman.
Knowing what you know now, did you make the right decision to be a landscape architect?
Without a doubt. It was the best thing I’ve ever done, and it fits me to a T. I’m the luckiest person in the world.
You first studied fashion design. What attracted you to the landscape architecture profession?
I loved fashion design, but it was very limited as to the broader scale of things. My parents were gardeners and I was raised with a love of plants and trees, but funnily enough had never thought about doing landscape architecture until a friend of mine said that they were. I then spent two or three years researching it. I wasn’t in love with gardening and had no desire to be a garden technician. But as an art form, I felt landscape architecture could be really interesting. I then studied for a year to pass a three day exam to do a masters at the École Nationale Supérieure de Paysage in Versailles (ENSP Versailles).
What was your breakthrough project?
All of them! I shared an office in Paris with Peter Rice, who was a very special person in my life, and he said don’t publish your work until you’re ready. I started in 1980 and didn’t publish until 1991, when I published several projects– the public plaza at Evry (1991), Shell Petroleum headquarters (1992), L’Oréal (1993) Les Jardins de l'Imaginaire Terrasson Fr (96)and Morbras – a sculptural approach to agricultural storm water management at Roissy en Brie (83).
It takes time to get the right clients, and I’ve never been able to get a decent project done in less than five years, sometimes 10. I like the time it takes – you get more and more embedded in the project.
What projects are you most proud of?
The Diana Princess of Wales Memorial Fountain (2004). It was very controversial in England. Things were pretty nasty, but we held on and sat back, which I think was the smartest thing we could do. I think the work speaks for itself – it’s a very good project.
We’ve just finished the first phase of the Eiffel Tower site in Paris. It was a hugely political project and very difficult. Many people were against it, but now the first phase is done they’re very happy with the results. It’s very historical, very simple and very clear, with no pretensions to be anything other than what it is. We won the project in 2019 and have only completed about one fifth of it so far. I just hope the rest gets built.
Another one is Parque Central in Valencia which just seems to fit as a new part of the city, which for me is really important. We’ve built half of it – the second phase requires putting train tracks underground for about 1km. Later this year we’ll be opening the Taikoo Place, an urban park in Hong Kong, and I think that’s one of the best projects I’ve done.
What has given you the most satisfaction in your work as a landscape architect?
I just love what I do – the work and the people I work with, and I am fortunate always to have had really good partners. You can face negativity but that’s worthless – it doesn’t get you anywhere, negativity is mostly a waste of time.
I really like doing public work when you’re designing not for a single client but for lots of different people, a group that keeps evolving. It means you have to keep evolving too, and I find that’s great for who I am. I also like the way the profession is always changing. More than 40 years ago we designed storm management as sculpture, and now storm management has become a regular part of the public realm.
Our approach is that everything that is open to the sky is landscape – I like to use the phrase ‘the sky is mine’. Once you think about it as a more global piece, landscape architecture is the most fascinating thing in the world. I don’t know how I’ll ever retire.
What have been the ups and downs of leading your own practice?
We’ve been through at least four recessions. It’s all about management, and keeping enough cash aside for rainy days. You can’t get mad about it – crap happens, and when it happens, you need to react fast. You have to make sure you’ve anticipated what to do, but it can be hard on personnel, clients and yourself. My recipe has been to go small and many in the projects you take on, and hope that you have enough work to get you through it.
What has been the biggest obstacle to overcome?
Architects can be difficult. I have known surgeons and I think architects are a bit like them – they think they can save the world. Some architects also want to do your job. But some are great. The first architect I really got along with was Denis Valode of Valode & Pistre, who I worked with on Shell Petroleum. We had to decide how to work together, and we agreed that everything that was light, air and rain was landscape. That taught me a lot about how to define the boundaries on a project.
Has your time in practice been a good period to work in as a landscape architect?
Yes – the precedent for landscape architecture in the public realm had already been set by designers such as Dan Kiley and Peter Walker, who were a bit before me. I think it’s a great time to be a landscape architect and it will only get better and better – the world has now come around to the importance of creating a good environment.
The one gripe I have is that all the rules that are made for designers to follow are made by different experts, like engineers. For example, what partially sighted people might need, and how to solve or address that need through design. I don’t feel enough study goes into these rules. There aren’t enough designers involved in them.
Have your working methods and priorities changed over the years and if so how?
The technology has. The Diana memorial fountain was the first time we’d ever used CNC stone cutting, and was a breakthrough for us. I also love Virtual Reality, especially when you can draw in it. It’s great being inside VR headsets and seeing the scale, but it will never take away from true hand drawing of cross sections.
I’ve always loved working in clay at the conceptual stage. I still do it, although not so much now because the digital 3D world has taken over a lot of that. But once there was a problem on a project that I could only solve by modelling in clay.
I’ve been trying to practice what I call SLAT – Stop, Look and Think; Stop Learn and Think; Stop Learn Allow Time – for more than 30 years, and even have a tattoo on my wrist to remind myself. Sometimes you need to just stop talking and back up until you can see the bigger picture.
Has it got easier, or harder, to get high quality projects built over your time in practice?
Probably easier as our reputation grew and we could choose our clients better. But we’re designers, so economic struggles do exist. Landscape architecture is still the poor one in the room – the fees are less, the budget is less, and some architects, designers and other professions think they can design a landscape.
Looking back on your work over the years, who has been your biggest influences?
Dennis Oppenheim was an amazing conceptual artist who crossed boundaries, and although I never met him, he gave me the courage to cross boundaries too. Oppenheim was all about the art of ideas, while Isamu Noguchi, who was another big influence, was about the art of the form. Igor Mitoraj was also a huge influence on my work he was generous with his time and taught me much about sculpting with clay.
Do you have any regrets?
None, except that maybe keeping my mouth shut sometimes would have been more effective. But that’s part of my personality, and is also what has helped to make me successful. It’s all about having a balance between the two.
Do you have a dream project you’d like to achieve?
Finish the Eiffel Tower site project as it was in its competition original design scope. And I’d love it if another big park came along, one with really difficult bones and a combination of wet, dry and polluted areas – the most complicated park you could do. Just taking an open field would be no fun.
What is your most treasured possession?
If I had to save one thing from a burning house, I’d save my sculpting tools. You could always buy replacements, but they’d never feel the same.
As told to Pamela Buxton