Richard Hartlage is curator and director of the Elisabeth C. Miller Botanical Garden in Seattle.

Introduction by Valerie Easton

From the moment Richard Hartlage walked into my office one afternoon in November 1995, to ask my thoughts on his accepting the job as director of the Miller Botanical Garden, we've been fast friends. Over the years we've talked gardens more days than not, and he has generously shared his expertise, made me laugh and forced me to clarify my own ideas about plants and gardens. Most of all he has pushed me to see gardens in new and surprising ways. In his first book, Richard brings the force of his vision and personality to bear in both photos and words, so you, too, will feel the pleasure of being challenged to look at garden-making with a fresh eye. Richard exudes energy, wit and originality, as well as an unparalleled fervor for plants and gardens. He abundantly shares these attributes in "Bold Visions for the Garden."

As a horticultural librarian at the University of Washington for the past 16 years, I've purchased and used thousands of gardening books. Yet I'm struck with the freshness of "Bold Visions," as it is an unabashed celebration of the visual. And after all, don't most of us indulge in ornamental gardening for the sheer, changeable, magical beauty of it? The soft, washy pink of a tree peony, the thickly ribbed pleating of a leaf, or the magnificence of a backlit drift of tulips draws us in so we're endlessly beguiled and irrevocably enchanted by this dirty, expensive and time-eating obsession.

Cordyline australis 'Alberti' creates portable pizzazz in a container at the Elisabeth C. Miller Botanical Garden in Seattle.
	Grasses add life and movement to any garden. This old standby, maiden grass, or Miscanthus sinesis 'Gracillimus,' was a favorite with Victorian gardeners. It is at its best in late summer, when the feather-duster flower heads emerge - and like all grasses it is heavenly when backlit.

Richard has written a very personal book (you'll learn that his bathroom is painted turquoise, his dining room sunshine yellow), and his odyssey toward an understanding of garden design and the people who have helped him along the way is a fascinating story. It is not only the gardens pictured in the book that are rich and multi-layered, but also Richard's evolution as a garden designer, including his errors: "One year we planted soft lavender tulips (thousands of them). We never repeated that mistake." And don't think that because Richard is visionary in his approach it means he isn't practical. Useful advice punctuates his enthusiasms, as in, "I think of a garden as being built in layers." The first layer is the ideas, then comes the primary (walls, walkways) and the secondary (small trees and shrubs) structures, and third is the "fluff" consisting of containers, art, perennials, etc. Plant lover that he is, Richard emphasizes again and again, in both text and photos, that boldness lies not just in plant choice, but in the clarity of the garden's plan, the unity of its design concept.

The diversity of the gardens pictured is dazzling, both stylistically and geographically. As you look at public and private gardens ranging from San Francisco landscape architect Topher Delaney's hospital garden for kids in San Diego, to a small private garden overlooking English Bay in Vancouver, B.C., it is clear that all too often garden books reflect a single aesthetic. Not this one. And why shouldn't we consider everything from adobe walls to formal hedging, from echiveria to lamb's ears, for it pays to remember that we have this entire, exciting range of materials and styles available to us as the raw stuff of garden-making.

Chairs on the lawn at Wave Hill in the Bronx, N.Y., invite you to stop and soak up what may be the last warm day in late October. The light is pale and crisp as the year moves into winter.

Perhaps Richard makes his points most effectively with dramatic photos, as in the square walled room in an Arizona garden, empty save for a starkly vertical cactus and a tiny square window, all as austere as a monk's cell. Here is an author as comfortable discussing agaves as he is considering roses and poppies. Pink walls studded with nails are as lovingly photographed as European hornbeams elegantly pruned into gothic windows. The chapter on form and texture advocates not only spiky or large-leaf plants, but also a garden pyramid made of hundreds of bowling balls, and inverted terra-cotta triangles that serve as hanging baskets. The book is eye-opening.

By the time you finish "Bold Visions," you'll have a clear and compelling picture of the colors, shapes, plants and gardens that Richard loves. There are far less effective ways to learn about stunning gardens.

Here are a few pithy Hartlage-isms to get you started:

Hartlage On Light

When we walk through a garden, light plays an important part in this experience because it affects how we perceive color, defines form and space by shadow and highlight, and reinforces the obvious, such as time of day and time of year. In winter, for example, the angle of the sun on the horizon is low in the sky. In July, it is high, bright and strong. Light can be used to direct people. In a dark place, it is natural to move toward light, so arbors and alleys of trees draw us through as we pursue the light at the end of the tunnel. Of course, the most charming light, which is often captured on film, is that seen through translucent flower petals. Who can resist the delicate nature of a flower made luminous by the light passing through it? . . . Light is one of the most transient characteristics in a garden composition, but with effort you can harness its ethereal qualities to create magic.

At Heronswood in Kingston, a tracery of clipped European hornbeam defines the space, yet is not visually massive. The lettuce-leaf poppies (foreground) and lavender alliums look wonderful above the haze of bronze fennel. Clipped hedges are seldom used in American gardens, but if the plants are selected well they require a minimum of maintenance and are excellent backdrops.

On Ornamental Grasses

Grasses are nature's equivalent of fiber-optic cable. The thin stems — with flowers as subtle as they are — and later seeds, conduct light in a way that creates an incredible dynamic energy. Not only are grasses spectacular when backlit or sidelit, but they move, too. They are kinetic. This quality may be why grasses have become so popular with gardeners and garden designers. Nothing can lift a dull, heavy scene faster than adding a few grasses to the planting.

On Setting

I have lived in the southeastern and northeastern United States, and now I live in the Pacific Northwest. Each of these regions is temperate, and each has its own distinctive personality, formed by climate, soils, vegetation, geology and topography. These physical characteristics tell us much about our location in the world and create a strong sense of place, and are thus comforting. I love the Pacific Northwest and can hardly imagine living anywhere else. The quality of light here is magical. I don't even begrudge the cloudy days: The moody, atmospheric skies make me appreciate the clear days all the more. My favorite light is under a high overcast sky with just a few cloud breaks, so when you hold your arm out there is just the hint of a fuzzy shadow. Pale colors look best in diffuse light, which we get a lot of here in spring, early summer and fall. Driving south on I-5 on my way home from work, the sight of Mount Rainier, a sleeping volcano looming over the city, never fails to awe me. . . . Acknowledging the setting of your garden is essential to integrating it with its natural surroundings, whether mountain, water, urban or pastoral views. The plants you choose, the stones for paths, even the colors you pick for your garden walls should all meld.

At their Victorian fantasy house on Queen Anne Hill, Brian Coleman and Howard Cohen use statuesque crown imperials, Fritillaria imperialis, to create a stunning mix with purple rhododendrons. The variegated ivy highlights the forest-green hue on the house. The mustard-colored columns dominate because of their relative mass.

On Style

Many of us forget that we are saying something about ourselves when we embark on this journey called gardening. The best gardens are those made by someone who has wrestled his or her statement to the ground and tried to say something beyond "Aren't these beautiful plants, and lovely paving, and a well-crafted fence?"

On Defining Your Vision

Logic is an essential tool: Each new element, space or plant that you add should relate to those that already exist. Follow the thread in as clear a manner as possible. If you do, you will end up with a garden that responds to the architecture of your home, one that meets your functional needs, and — most important — one that is beautiful and inspiring. A garden of delight, with a bold and clear vision that is yours.