Speaking of this, and the small greenhouse, and the touch of anthroposophical claustrophobia. Diana wrote: ‘The flowers are lovely, but the “close” feeling is sort of unbreathable. In some ways to me this does characterize Waldorf aesthetics, there is not enough sky and light and always a touch of claustrophobia.’ Naturally, the BD people didn’t plant the forest (well, it’s not a forest, more like group of trees) behind the small greenhouse. But in the garden, the ‘close’ feeling is — it seems — quite intentional. There are, for example, many high hedges, dividing up space in small compartments. There are various enclosures, natural and created, artificial ones. I guess this isn’t unique to anthroposophical or anthro-inspired gardens. What sort of is interesting though is that the feeling Diana describes — that of being closed in, there being not enough sky and light, no breathing space — and which, in those pictures, was (partly? wholly?) caused by a natural enclosure by trees (and possibly augmented by the contrast between lightness and darkness), has been intentionally created in other places in the garden. I made a quick dig in the archives, and found pictures of one of several café areas. These pictures were taken late one evening in June — around the summer solstice, actually.
In the background, one of the larger greenhouses. In this older post, there are several photos showing semi-enclosed spaces in the garden. I’m personally quite fond of this; these spaces provide perfect opportunities for photography. They filter out too some light, often create an interesting interplay between light and dark, and usually provides the perfect uncluttered background. And I was always quite attached to enclosed gardens — they have a mysterious hold on me. I’d like to have one of my own. Preferably one with real walls around, though. Overgrown with roses. Well, I’m not likely to ever own a garden like that.