When in Rome, Part II

 

Ancient Rome! My tutor wrote that 'the Empire was marked by extravagant excess with intervals of reform, brilliance, chaos, madness and terror.' The Roman Empire was fabulous for absorbing elements of other cultures and making them Roman. Etruscans, Greeks, Egyptians and all sorts lent their cultures to the Romans. Anything goes, as they say. The Doctor described it as being like Soho, only bigger. At its height the Empire spread across most of modern day Europe, Northern Africa, and the Middle East.

This map shows the greatest extent of the Roman empire c117 AD
(attrib)

As they went forth and conquered, so they also revered, and the religious traditions and figures of other cultures were added to the Roman melting pot. Greek gods were given new Roman names and just as Egyptian pharaohs were viewed as deities, Caesars likewise became gods. There appeared to be a god for every occasion, necessitating the building of temples and shrines, which festooned the Roman cities, towns, even the roads. Suburban homes had household gods, a resident spirit (genius) associated with a particular place (loci). Mixing the original Latin with English, 'the genius of the place' becomes a familiar term to students of landscape design but rather than invoking the ancient Roman philosophy, modern practitioners are most likely quoting 18th century poet Alexander Pope who admonished designers to "consult the genius of the place in all"*.

The Getty Villa does a fine job of honoring the genius loci in its design. Nestled in a narrow coastal valley, with a climate very much like that enjoyed in the Gulf of Naples, it combines elements of Roman villa and town gardens that look and feel as much at home in Southern California as they would on the Neapolitan coast.

Plan of the Getty Villa 1. Atrium; 2. Inner Peristyle Garden; 3. East Garden; 4. Outer Peristyle Garden; 5. Herb Garden; 6. Amphitheatre (sunset.com)

Roman villas were essentially country retreats for the wealthy elite. Thanks to Pliny the Younger's letters, we have a good idea how these villas were used and decorated. Getty did such a splendid job of siting and designing his Villa that Pliny's description of his own could very well apply to both:

You are surprised that I am so fond of my Laurentine...but you will cease to wonder when I acquaint you with the beauty of the villa, the advantages of its situation, and the extensive view of the sea-coast...The courtyard in front is plain, but not mean, through which you enter porticoes...enclosing a small but cheerful area between...The gestatio [an avenue for exercise either on horseback or in a horse-drawn vehicle] is bordered round with box, and, where that is decayed, with rosemary." (Letter XXII to Gallus)



The Outer Peristyle Garden looking out to the Pacific Ocean (2013)

Dwellings in towns such as Pompeii and Herculaneum were walled and generally without windows for privacy, security, and to keep out the stench from the streets. Practically all houses had gardens, even the most humble. If you were rich, you had several. Upon entering the home of a Roman town dweller you would find an atrium, a family space in which the central portion of the roof is open to the sky for ventilation. There might also be a corresponding basin formed in the floor beneath to catch rain water.

 

 

The Atrium at Getty Villa. The floor basin is covered by this sculpture. (2013)

Beyond the atrium is the peristyle, a paved enclosure surrounded by columns. The open space permitted fresh air into the house and illuminated the rooms surrounding the peristyle court. At Getty's Villa plants, flowers, and fountains decorate the court just as they did in the original at Herculaneum. The playing fountains and birdsong soothe the senses, imitating nature in an artfully contrived setting. The cool shade of the marble corridors give relief from the midday sun and make this a place one would want to spend a day in repose, away from the noise of the city. 

View of the Inner Peristyle Garden from within the Atrium (2013)
 

These corner fountains are replicas of those found in ancient Roman ruins (2013)

In the first century B.C., the Roman architect and writer Vitruvius dedicated his treatise on architecture and design to the Roman Emperor Augustus. He put forth the idea that design must incorporate the qualities of firmitas, utilitas, and venustas – firmness (technology), utility (function), and delight (aesthetic beauty). His prescription for a peristyle was quite specific:

Peristyles, lying athwart, should be one third longer than they are deep, and their columns as high as the colonnades are wide. Intercolumnations of peristyles should be not less than three nor more than four times the thickness of the columns. (Vitruvius, The Ten Books on Architecture).

 

Romans were nothing if not big on regularity.

If your station in life prohibited such columned extravagance, you could paint a fresco on one or more walls to give the illusion of a much larger and grander garden. Even the columns could be painted on.

A garden fresco decorating the wall of a home in Pompeii (British Museum)

Restored fresco at the Getty Villa, Outer Peristyle Garden (2013)

Another space for growing flowers, vegetables, and medicinal plants was called a xystus. Like the peristyle courts, the xystus might be decorated with statues, water features, or a pavilion. The East Garden at the Getty Villa is what I would consider to be the xystus, and features two fountains: one central font, raised high, and a niche fountain, replicated from one found at Pompeii decorated in a mosaic of shells and tiles. 

East Garden at Getty Villa (2013)

Pompeii niche fountain replica with masks of Leonidas and Pericles (2013) 

 

Mosaic detail (2013)

The Outer Peristyle Garden is the Villa's grandest peristyle court, with a 200-foot long pool, surrounding covered peristyle walk providing shelter from the elements, and a splendid view to the sea. The Roman love of orderliness is seen in the symmetricality of the garden and use of repeated shapes - the upright columns, rounded tree canopies echoed in shorn box balls, the placement of statues and busts on plinths, even the rectangular arches formed by the peristyle repeat, drawing the eye around the site. The dominant color here is green with a few accents making this a calming, soothing space where the villa owner can escape hectic Roman city life.

The Outer Peristyle Garden, looking east (2013)

Hold on. I almost forgot - we're not in Ancient Rome, we're in 21st century Los Angeles. If you take away the tourists with their audio guides, mobile phones, and funky modern togas, not to mention the cafe and gift shop, wandering along the shaded corridors of the Getty Villa gives you a pretty good idea what being in a real Roman villa garden was like.

In Part 3 I'll tell you about the plants in these gardens and their significance in Roman times.

If you're in London between now and September, you can pop by the British Museum and check out their exhibit on Life and Death of Pompeii and Herculaneum featuring lectures, presentations, and objects from both cities. Preserved as they were by volcanic material, much of what we know about first century Roman life was found in these important cities. For tickets and visiting hours, go to the museum website.

The Getty Villa herb garden (2013)

Eighteenth century poet Alexander Pope wrote many epistles with his views on garden design. The following excerpt is from Epistle IV To Richard Boyle, Earl of Burlington c. 1738, and has been quoted in countless texts on landscape and garden design:

 

*Consult the genius of the place in all;
That tells the waters or to rise, or fall;
Or helps th’ ambitious hill the heav’ns to scale,
Or scoops in circling theatres the vale;
Calls in the country, catches opening glades,
Joins willing woods, and varies shades from shades,
Now breaks, or now directs, th’ intending lines;
Paints as you plant, and, as you work, designs.



When In Rome...Part I

...or, at least Los Angeles...

One of the frustrations of studying a subject like garden history is not being able to hop in a time machine and visit gardens created thousands of years ago which no longer exist. How I would have loved to have joined the Doctor and Donna* on their visit to Pompeii in 79 AD to see some of the gardens of the ancient Romans.

OK, well, maybe not, since they were there on Volcano Day.

Basically, run.

Among the villages destroyed by the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius on that fateful day was Herculaneum. It, along with four other villages, was destroyed when the mountain exploded, sending 'superheated pyroclastic material'** raining down upon it (Dr. Evil would incorrectly call it 'liquid hot mag-MA'. Yes, you just read that in his voice with your pinkie to your mouth, didn't you!). Buried beneath 20M (50-60 feet) of ash, the town was better preserved than its more famous neighbor. It was rediscovered in the early 1700's and later excavations revealed much of the city still in tact, including the lavish seaside villa belonging to Julius Caesar's father-in-law Lucius Calpurnius Piso Caesoninus. Since its rediscovery, it has been called Villa dei Papiri due to the number of carbonized papyrus scrolls found there.



Plan of the Villa dei Papiri, village of Herculaneum, destroyed by Mt. Vesuvius in 79 AD (attrib)

Fast forward several hundred years to the 20th century California seaside town of Pacific Palisades near Malibu. There, a one J. Paul Getty was amassing a fortune in oil and cultivating a keen interest in art and history. As he traveled throughout Europe, he began collecting art and artifacts from ancient Mediterranean civilizations, displaying them at his own lavish home overlooking the Pacific. Getty's collection continued to grow so in the early 1970's he decided to build a museum that would allow him to showcase it to the public in the perfect context.



The Outer Peristyle Garden at the Getty Villa (2013)

Getty consulted with architect Stephen Garrett on the design of his new museum, which he based on the plan of the Villa dei Papiri as published in Le Antichità di Ercolano (The Antiquities of Herculaneum). Nestled in a deep hillside valley, construction of Getty's Villa began in the early 1970's. Although Getty now lived in England, he eagerly oversaw every step of the process. Sadly, he died only two years after it opened, having never seen it.

The Getty Villa, as it's now called, opened in 1974, an exact replica of the peristyle garden from Villa dei Papiri. The overall campus combines architectural elements representing Roman homes from Pompeii, Herculaneum, and Aplontis, all destroyed by the volcano. Four distinct plant communities comprising about 300 varieties live at the Villa: native (to Italy), those from similar climates, So Cal and Mediterranean natives, and species that are historically accurate to ancient Rome. All give the Villa a feeling of authenticity that should characterize every historic garden recreation.

According to his architect, Getty 'had very clear views about what he wanted to achieve here. He wanted a person that came here to get some idea of what a villa way back 2,000 years ago would actually have felt like'.

Well, it seems we can travel back in time after all.

The central pool of the Outer Peristyle Garden (2013)

Stay tuned for Part II where I'll talk more about the individual gardens and how they represent the suburban gardens found in ancient Roman cities. In the meantime, enjoy this video about the History of the Getty Villa.




Admission to the Getty Villa is free but timed tickets must be reserved in advance. There is a fee for parking. For more information and a calendar of events, visit The Getty Villa website.

*Leave it to me to include a Doctor Who reference in a piece about Roman gardens! (Doctor Who, series 4, episode 2: The Fires of Pompeii)

** A pyroclastic flow is described by the US Geological Survey as ‘A ground-hugging avalanche of hot ash, pumice, rock fragments, and volcanic gas that rushes down the side of a volcano as fast as 100 km/hour or more. The temperature within a pyroclastic flow may be greater than 500° C, sufficient to burn and carbonize wood. Once deposited, the ash, pumice, and rock fragments may deform (flatten) and weld together because of the intense heat and the weight of the overlying material’.