http://www.scribd.com/doc/60186106/Wigandia-a-GO-GO There seems to have been a muck-up with article titles..Toorak a go go was an article about some of my city work used in their magazine! Also no credit given to writer Trevor Nottle!
For those who can't read the text
Wiiliam Martin at ‘Wigandia’
by Trevor Nottle
A volcanic cinder cone covered in seer yellow grass and a few dusty Casuarina trees rises above a sparse landscape of black soil, black rocks, more yellow grass and straggling brown lines of hedged hawthorn and avenues of decrepit elms. The place is Mt Noorat in the Western districts of Victoria, Australia far from the English landscape that it tries to copy. It fails; this place isn’t England.
Halfway up the cinder slope a tuft of trees – gums and she-oaks marks the spot where William Martin has made his home, and where he rejects the English retrospective idioms of Rosemary Verey, Gertrude Jekyll and her latter-day Australian mimic, Edna Walling. He’s not concerned with Bali style gardens or Japanese gardens or Renaissance gardens. There are no Romantic, green and lush Summer idylls here. Instead William takes as his starting point for creativity his own knowledge and experience of this place: summer dry, winter wet, yellow grass, green grass, the constant black of rocks and soil; the wild wind that blows incessantly, the huge blue sky and the low dark clouds; the exposed nature of the hillside and the distant views below of an ancient landscape that hasn’t succumbed to the tender nurturings of gardener and grazier. To this understanding he applies his personal vision of what a garden would be here in this place. It is a vision that encompasses a profound interest in making a garden as opposed to simply living in the bush. ‘Wigandia’ is a garden. It moves with the rhythm of the seasons that move across it. The rhythm is scored by William into a musical episode, an opera buffo perhaps – light, witty, a little risqué, a bit provocative with it own parts in presto – ephemeral winter and spring flowers, forte – the towering furcreas and dasylirions, piano – the feathery grasses, adagio – long drifts of low orange, red, brown, grey succulents, pizzicato – spiky aloes and agaves,alla breve – the short, sudden impact of colletia and carissa, accelerando – high and blowzy buddleja, giant reed and melainthus, crescendo – the overpowering landscape, largo – the slow passage of the sun and shadows across the garden. The movements and entire composition are orchestrated according to William’s intimate observation of each botanical ‘instrument’ and each part played by him with consummate skill. Every piece is just so – balanced but poised to strike off new ideas and fresh associations; invested with sculptures and installations that add spark and sharpness to the scene as progress is made around the whole creation. Each point and counterpoint adding to the mounting thrill of realisation that this place is of this place, like no other – unique and true to itself just like a composition by Phillip Glass or a work by Ian Hamilton-Finlay.
Like other modern composers William’s work finds a small, but appreciative audience. Those who find his work jarring and discordant are those who are ruled by their adherence to the outmoded conventions of gardening repertoires written for other climates and the other hemisphere. The jarring and discordance come from closed minds attuned to echoes from a distant past, a pastoral Romance or a Claudian dream, not from what is happening on the slopes of Mt Noorat. Here what is happening are the first steps, confident and bold, towards a future for gardens that come to terms with their natural settings, accept it and interpret it accordingly without a backward glance.