A Chinese Infusion of Tranquillity
Every board and stone in the Chinese classical garden here--including more than 500 tons of rock--was shipped from Portland’s sister city of Suzhou, near Shanghai, where the garden was designed and prefabricated. Named Lan Su Yuan, or “Garden of Awakening Orchids,” because when pronounced, those characters sound similar to “Portland-Suzhou Garden,” the garden was assembled here by 60 Suzhou craftsmen and gardeners over a nine-month period.
The $12.5-million garden opened almost a year ago in the heart of Chinatown, and already it has had more than 200,000 visitors, although docents are quick to say that the garden is not quite finished. Still, I found it the most finished and refined garden I have ever been in.
Modeled after late 14th century walled gardens in southeast China, the classical Chinese garden is not at all what you might expect a garden to be, and it is certainly unlike any other in this country, though there is a similar but smaller classical Chinese garden in Vancouver, Canada, and one is planned for the Huntington Library and Botanical Gardens in San Marino, both areas with large Chinese populations. It is part of a growing trend among botanical gardens and some communities to reach out to new constituencies through international gardens.
Jin Chen, a Shanghai-educated landscape architect, was project coordinator for the Portland garden beginning in 1995 when it was proposed by the nonprofit Portland Classical Chinese Garden group, until about nine months ago, when the Huntington grabbed him as project manager and lead designer for its proposed Chinese garden. In October, Huntington officials plan to announce funding for the first phase of a 12-acre garden, with several pavilions and a 1.5-acre lake, near the existing Japanese garden. Chen says it will be similar to Portland’s and will have southern--or Suzhou--elements, but will also include northern Imperial design.
Like Portland’s, the Huntington’s garden will be prefabricated in China, but when finished, Chen said, it will be the largest Chinese garden outside of that country. In a sense, that makes the Portland garden a preview of coming attractions at the Huntington, though the Portland garden will be a tough act to follow.
Though it occupies only one city block, the elegant complexity of the Portland garden’s design and construction make it a Disneyland for the soul--so much to contemplate, so much beauty to admire and experience and all on less than an acre. Chen said it was made to look like the urban garden of a scholar.
Step inside its walls, into the appropriately named Courtyard of Tranquillity, with its grizzled, topsy-turvy rocks from Lake Tai, and you are stepping back into Ming Dynasty China. Calligraphy over a stone portal shaped like a lotus blossom reads “Entering the Wonderland,” which is no exaggeration.
Chinese gardens are quite different from Western or even Japanese gardens. They are much more architectural and intellectual and are extremely fanciful and complex. They include literature and poetry in the mix--the carefully considered calligraphy that looks like labels on the various objects and structures. For instance, the Chinese characters on the massive Lake Tai rock glimpsed though the lotus blossom portal says “Music in Stone,” according to the garden’s director, Gloria Lee.
As Lee explains it, a classical Chinese garden contains five essential elements--water, stone, architecture, plants and poetry. To achieve harmony, or qi , a classical garden balances the hard edges of stone and architecture--the yin --with the softness of plants and water--the yang .
An 8,000-square-foot lake named Zither covers 65% of the garden, much of which is devoted to contemplating or experiencing water in one way or another. At one end, standing in the “Hall of Brocade Clouds,” the lake can be viewed from above, while on the opposite shore it is possible to walk down to the water on a wide rock ledge. A visitor can cross the lake on a tall, arching bridge poetically named Double Rainbows Resting in the Clouds, or cross on one that is low and zigzags, prompting you to first look left and then right, admiring the lake at various angles.
Every cove and promontory has a little water adventure, whether it is simply looking into the clear shallows from the Knowing the Fish pavilion or stepping gingerly across an inlet on flat stones. Along one bank, a building shaped like a boat seems to float among the lotus, its windows propped open so you can look down on the soft-pink blossoms. Antique strains of Chinese goldfish were just introduced to the lake.
A thundering waterfall--the theoretical source for all this water--pours over a rocky face. Paths explore every inch of this tiny mountain and its big waterfall. They go around it, over it and even through it, inside grotto-like caverns. For safety’s sake, the paths are blocked off, but Lee says visitors climb all over similar rocky outcrops in China. All that’s missing on this miniature Matterhorn is the Log Ride.
There must be utilitarian concrete hiding somewhere in the garden, but I couldn’t spot it. Every hard surface appears to be made of natural or cut stone, a very important element in Chinese gardens. Bridges, steps and portals are often hewn from solid granite, and in the buildings, every supporting column rests on stone. Talk about a firm footing. These plinths are shaped like lotus blossoms in the magical Hall of Brocade Clouds.
In the garden beds, highly imaginative and revered stones are placed like admired sculpture. When turned on end, sedimentary rocks of horizontal strata become Shisun, which means “bamboo-shoot stone,” because that is what they resemble. They are often placed in clumps of Moso or black bamboo.
Most prized are the heavily eroded limestone rocks from Lake Tai, near Suzhou, called Tai Hu. Though they may at first appear bizarre to Western eyes, their rough sides remind the Chinese of “the beautiful face of a wise, old person,” as one garden guide put it. The Chinese feel the many holes allow chi (life force) to flow freely, and appreciate the fact that the rocks are decidedly top-heavy and heaven-facing, according to Lee.
Nine ornate buildings--the main architectural elements--are clustered around the lake, all topped by dramatic roofs with ridge lines that swoop up like flying swallows, which is what the Chinese call this particular style of ridge. They are thought to propel or fling evil spirits from the garden.
The tiles on the eaves are specially shaped so a drizzle runs off the roof in stings of diamond droplets.
The design and workmanship of the buildings are amazing. While I was there, master carpenter Norm Abram, of public television’s “This Old House” and “New Yankee Workshop,” toured the garden with his wife. “I didn’t see a single nail,” he told me, awe-struck. Most of the pavilions are elaborately decorated, often using the hard, blond wood from the Yingxing, or ginkgo tree. All contain calligraphy.
Each pavilion is spatially balanced by walled courtyards, pierced by “leak” windows, so-called because they frame specific views that are “leaking through.” In one you can see bamboo-shoot stones and bananas, perfectly framed, or the window itself might be ornamental, often with elaborate grillwork. Of the 53 windows in the garden walls, no two are alike.
Each courtyard also has a distinctive paving, in patterns that represent ideas and objects, such as the lotus blossom, so full of meaning to the Chinese, or the pattern in one court called “Cracked Ice With Plum Blossoms.” The intricate patterns are made from waterworn pebbles and curved pieces of roof tile, intended to make the paving look like brocade. Plants are often carefully framed by windows or walls and may interact with the structures. For instance, a banana in one courtyard has been purposely placed under an eave so droplets falling from the roof can thump against the big leaves during a shower.
Even though it is a new garden, some of the plants are quite large, like the huge old variegated osmanthus near the entrance that smells of fresh apricots when it is in bloom. It is a traditional Chinese plant, but this one was spotted in an old Portland neighborhood, and the neighborhood ended up donating it to the garden.
Though just about everything else was imported from China, the plants are from the Northwest, chosen by Chinese gardeners for their familiarity or appropriateness. Many were originally native to China, but some are Northwest natives, chosen because they tied the two sister cities together. Others seem like they would be more at home in Southern California, because Suzhou is in subtropical China, where gardens are full of citrus, bananas, oleanders, and other plants familiar to us. When the Huntington gets around to planting its Chinese garden, it should have no trouble finding suitable plants.
Visiting the Garden
The entrance to the classical Chinese garden is at Northwest 3rd Avenue and Northwest Everett Street in Portland’s Chinatown. It’s a short block from a stop on that city’s fantastic MAX light-rail system, which also passes many hotels and is scheduled to connect to the airport in September.
Admission is $6, and the garden is open daily from 9 a.m.-6 p.m., until Nov. 1, when winter hours of 10 a.m.-5 p.m. take effect.
