Studies in the History of Gardens & Designed Landscapes

An International Quarterly

ISSN: 1460-1176 (Print) 1943-2186 (Online) Journal homepage: http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/tgah20

The Dutch tradition of modernist landscape

architecture and the legacy of Hans Warnau
(1922–1995)

Steven Heyde

To cite this article: Steven Heyde (2018) The Dutch tradition of modernist landscape architecture
and the legacy of Hans Warnau (1922–1995), Studies in the History of Gardens & Designed
Landscapes, 38:1, 57-72, DOI: 10.1080/14601176.2017.1351790

To link to this article: https://doi.org/10.1080/14601176.2017.1351790

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The Dutch tradition of modernist landscape architecture and the legacy of Hans
Warnau (1922–1995)
steven heyde

The paradox of modernism in landscape architecture
The use of the term ‘modernism’ is bound to provoke different responses within the
field of landscape architecture: despised by some for its seemingly anti-historical or
anti-ecological tendencies and deeply reverenced by others as a definite break-
through in the profession against a crippling form of nostalgia hindering the progress
of the discipline. Modernism is obviously not an easy thing to talk about dispassio-
nately: its consequences for design are quite impressive if not intimidating. Yet these
kinds of clichés also preclude a richer and more subtle understanding of how
modernism was manifested in the landscape medium. This article seeks to uncover
a more sophisticated understanding of modernism through the example of the
Dutch modernist landscape architect Hans Warnau (1922–1995).
But first it may be helpful to introduce the topic of modernism within landscape
architecture. Modernism emerges from a capacity for self-critique and self-renewal.1
Through a greater sense of freedom to explore different discourses and form-
languages, landscape architects could come to grips with a rapidly changing society.
It is no coincidence that ‘the twentieth century may well be the most brilliantly
creative in the history of the world’.2 Modernism found itself confronted with a
world in which ‘all fixed, fast-frozen relations, with their train of ancient and
venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away […]. All that is solid melts into
air’.3 The response of modernist designers has been to invoke the ideologies, the
ideas, the principles, the materials, the form-languages and the techniques that, from
their point of view, gave an expression to the cultural conditions of their time.
Within modernism a different way of thinking about the interplay between
function and design is also manifested.4 When a landscape architect during the
nineteenth century created a public park, recreative facilities were integrated in
subordinate positions within a largely predetermined stylistic formula such as
the so-called ‘landscape style’. With modernism, on the other hand, social and
functional concerns now could inform and shape the overall layout of a
project. This is not to say that modernism is enslaved by a functionalist
doctrine.5 By means of a process of research-through-design, they would
explore and refine their designs as a response to functional and social con-
siderations. Their approach has been to search for a reconciliation between
functional and aesthetic considerations. Yet the balance between the two may
come out differently depending on the designer involved.
To proclaim that a work of landscape architecture fits within the scope of
modernism is, however, less straightforward than in adjacent disciplines such as
architecture and art. While the modesty, the simplicity and the austere form-
languages of modernist landscape architecture may be recognizable as such,
they are often less radically different from precedents than in other disciplines.
Unlike architecture, landscape architects could not count upon such an inno-
vative repertoire of new building materials and techniques during the heyday
of modernism.6 Through their reliance on novel building materials and tech-
niques, architects were capable of creating resolutely new types of buildings
and addressing societal concerns in unforeseen manners.

issn 1460-1176 # 2017 the author(s). published by informa uk limited, trading as taylor & francis group. vol. 38, no. 1 57
this is an open access article distributed under the terms of the creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives license (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/), which permits non-commercial
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https://doi.org/10.1080/14601176.2017.1351790
 studies in the history of gardens and designed landscapes: heyde
A prime example of these principles is the Van Nelle factory in
Rotterdam. In 1923 the architect Michel Brinkman was commissioned
to design the Van Nelle factory, around the same time when reinforced
concrete was used for the first time in the Netherlands as a new con-
struction technique for buildings. Columns of reinforced concrete served
as a weight-bearing structure by which load-bearing walls were no longer
needed. Instead, the facades of the building were created by curtain walls
of glass as huge almost uninterrupted glass surfaces (glass panels at that
time becoming available at the size of complete storey-high units). The
factory thereby also belongs to the very first examples of industrially
fabricated curtain walls (figure 1).7
The outcome was revolutionary: a building that at once responded to
the socio-economic realities of its time and enabled the emergence of a
new aesthetic. The Van Nelle factory came to be known as one of the
figure 1. The Van Nelle factory is an iconic example of modernism and more specifically the
movement of the Nieuwe Zakelijkheid in architecture—different from how the Nieuwe
Zakelijkheid could be achieved in landscape architecture. Photograph by Gerwen van der Veen
(September 2016). Permission for reuse must be obtained from the rightsholder.
58
most iconic examples of modernist architecture. By means of the columns
as a bearing structure, the different floors received an open structure.
They could be re-arranged over time with sliding doors to fit changing
needs.8 Daylight could penetrate deeply into the building through the
glass facades, thereby improving the working conditions of the labourers.
Modernist architecture was, therefore, much more than a stylistic gesture,
but responded to a whole range of societal concerns.
Design professionals who tried to translate modernism into the land-
scape medium were thus confronted with a certain kind of paradox: those
who strove to achieve a radical rupture with the past through the inte-
gration of nonconventional materials and form-languages ran the risk of
addressing social and economic concerns in a more superficial manner.
The early design experiments at modernism in France (e.g. Gabriel
Guevrekian, Robert Mallet-Stevens and Pierre-Émile Legrain)9 largely
failed in this regard. One may think of the garden of water and light by
Guevrekian, the design being reminiscent of a cubist painting. The trian-
gular abstract surfaces with their monochrome flower beds are nothing
like the gardens of the previous centuries. Likewise H. B. Dunington-
Grubb observed in 1942 that:
It is in the garden that the modernist finds himself stuck. That is where his
interpretation of functionalism breaks down. […] Nobody will dispute my
statement, however, that most of the garden we see is pure decoration for
its own sake. […] We need only once glance at the modernist’s pitiful
attempts out of doors to know that he is stuck. In most cases he has thrown
up his hands and done nothing. The few examples where any serious efforts
has been made are of such severity, or of such grotesqueness, as to have
little resemblance to anything we should recognize as a garden.10
What is also striking about these modernist gestures is that they are usually focussed
on smaller-scale garden design. While the use of curtain walls of glass at the Van
Nelley factory resulted in a reduction of construction costs, applying these avant-
garde attitudes to larger-scale landscape design runs the risk of becoming a costly
affair or being dysfunctional. It may involve a huge increase of construction costs
(hard materials instead of plants?) or increased maintenance costs (topiary shapes or
conspicuous flower beds?) or an almost complete tabula rasa of the existing
situation. The relevance of austere modernism on larger-scale (public) parks for
 dutch landscape architecture and hans warnau
its users could also be questioned—throughout the twentieth century most people
did continue to enjoy lively green environments.
The Develpark (1960) in Zwijndrecht (the Netherlands) by the Dutch
landscape architect Hans Warnau (1922–1995) is a useful example in this
regard (figure 2). An inquiry into the Develpark and its underlying ideas
reveal how modernism was translated on the scale of a park of approxi-
mately 20 ha in size. A design such as the Develpark is characterized by its
modernist form-languages, its modesty and its simplicity. Yet the park is
also a green oasis mainly composed of woody patches and lawns, there-
fore, some may question if this really fits within the modernist idiom. Yet
to dismiss this kind of example as not fitting within modernism is, as I will
argue in this article, to misinterpret the whole philosophy of modernism
that lay at the heart of its translation into landscape architecture.

The design practice of Hans Warnau (1922–1995)

Within the Netherlands, the decades after the Second World War constitute a
real breakthrough to the development of modernist landscape architecture,
although some of its underlying ideas had already been developed in the
period before the Second World War. Together with designers such as Wim
Boer (1923–2000) and Hein Otto (1916–1994), Hans Warnau belongs to a
select group of Dutch landscape architects that fundamentally altered the
course of landscape architecture in the Netherlands.11 It is somewhat surprising
that such an important figure of modernist landscape architecture like Hans
Warnau has until now received no attention whatsoever in international
literature. It is, therefore, useful and important to sketch here a brief outline
on his career, influences and design thinking.
One of the first examples of modernist design in the Netherlands is the garden
for the Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam. Designed by Warnau in 1953, it came
to be one of his first modernist design examples, although the garden itself does
not exist anymore. Another notable example from that period is the Gijsbrecht
van Aemstelpark (1958) near Amsterdam by the Dutch landscape architect Wim
Boer, a design competition for which Hans Warnau also delivered a modernist
park design (figure 3). The Gijsbrecht van Aemstelpark is generally considered to figure 2. Portrait of Hans Warnau. The artwork (1971) on this photograph by Jaap Egmond
be the first example of a modernist park in the Netherlands. The Develpark in (1913–1997) illustrates Warnau’s preference for modernist art. Hans Warnau, Collectie TUiN, Special
Zwijndrecht follows a few years afterwards designed in 1960 by Hans Warnau. Collections, Wageningen University. Permission for reuse must be obtained from the rightsholder.

59
 studies in the history of gardens and designed landscapes: heyde
Before that period, the romantic landscape garden had been the dominant
stylistic prototype (on the scale level of park design) for an astonishing timespan
of almost 200 years.
The oeuvre of Hans Warnau covers the period from 1947 until 1988 and
includes private gardens, public parks, urban design, recreation and playing
facilities, cemeteries, historic estates, corporate landscapes, green infrastructure
planning, landscape planning and all kinds of planting plans, as well as his role as
an advisor on numerous projects.12 He received no formal education in land-
scape architecture, as with most designers at that time, but through taking
different courses, self-education, his design practice and contacts with leading
figures such as Hein Otto, Jan Bijhouwer, the urbanist Cornelis van Eesteren
(1897–1988), he gradually developed himself into an acclaimed landscape
architect.13 Along with his design activities, he also became an influential design
tutor at several institutes such as the Wageningen University (1973–1985).
Through his teaching activities he profoundly influenced a whole genera-
tion of Dutch landscape architects. Adriaan Geuze, for instance, still occasion-
ally refers in his classes to Warnau’s influence on his own design practice.14 He
explains that Warnau never suggested that he should design in a certain ‘style’
or manner. Instead, he urged his students to really look at the practical
contingencies of design, for instance, through the use of sections. Warnau’s
legacy also survives today through his own writings on a whole range of topics.
He was an acclaimed design critic, albeit being characteristically humble as a
person. According to Meto Vroom, Warnau’s writings belong to some of the
most important texts on Dutch landscape architecture from that period.15 His
article ‘Landschaparchitectuur en de moderne stroming in de bouwkunde
(Landscape architecture and the modern movement in architecture)’ may
well be the most important text on Dutch modernist landscape architecture.
Of a fundamental importance to Warnau’s design practice has been the
influence of modernist discourses. He got acquainted with modernism through
his collaboration with the architect/urbanist Cornelis van Eesteren and his
contacts with the designer/architect Gerrit Rietveld (1888–1964) along with
the writings of the German landscape architect Leberecht Migge (1881–1935).
Other names and movements also deserve to be mentioned here: if not that
they had such a fundamental impact on his design practice, they have none-
theless enriched and reformulated his view on specific aspects of landscape
architecture. These include, most notably, the De Stijl art movement with Piet
Mondrian (1872–1944), his collaborations and contacts with the landscape
60
architects Hein Otto and Jan Bijhouwer, as well as the influence of phytogeo-
graphy. The common thread throughout all of this is its emphasis on func-
tionalism, rationalism and social responsibility.
Warnau described his approach as in the ‘ouderwetse nieuw-zakelijke manier’
(the oldfashioned way of the Neue Sachlichkeit).16 The modernist movement of
the Nieuwe Zakelijkheid reached its height during the 1920s and the early 1930s
with the Van Nelly factory as one of its most iconic examples. Elsewhere he
wrote about his indebtedness to the Nieuwe Bouwen, a term that is closely
related to the Nieuwe Zakelijkheid.17 This severe form of functionalism from the
1920s and 1930s shimmers through in all the writings and the design practice of
Warnau. Sobriety, purposefulness, honesty in the use of your materials (no fake
imitations of nature), an emphasis on social values and the removal of all
aesthetic decorations for its own sake are some of the guiding principles of
the Nieuwe Zakelijkheid. This functional and utilitarian approach to modernist
landscape architecture seems to have played a much bigger role in Dutch
design practice than it has done in other countries.18
But Warnau also warns that functionalism within landscape architecture is
often misunderstood. For him, functionalism was not seen as opposed to beauty,
history, meaning, nature and so on. Rather, it was a more subtle way of
approaching these topics.19 Most modernist landscape architects have, Warnau
suggests, been unable to find a convincing equivalent within their writings of
their design practice.20 As with any movement at the height of its popularity,
functionalist design was copied by countless others in a more superficial
manner. He signals this as a sort of dismantled and cold form of functionalism
from which it has received a bad press and which eventually leaded to its
downfall.21
Modernism translated into the landscape medium
Modernism is often understood in a mutually exclusive contrast with the
design practices of the preceding centuries, as illustrated by Le Corbusier’s
modernist manifesto Vers une architecture (1923). But being different from
precedents was a means, not a purpose on itself, to rethink the larger respon-
sibilities of the design disciplines to society. The architectural historian Alan
Colquhoun has indicated that there is indeed a sort of middle ground on
modernism its relationship to the past which he describes as an ‘evolutionary’
 dutch landscape architecture and hans warnau

figure 3. The use of sections proved to be an invaluable tool to modernist design practice as illustrated by Warnau’s design proposal for the Gijsbrecht van Aemstelpark. Hans Warnau, Collectie
TUiN, Special Collections, Wageningen University. Permission for reuse must be obtained from the rightsholder.

61
 studies in the history of gardens and designed landscapes: heyde
22
interpretation of the past. History no longer served as a ‘timeless essence’ to
be emulated in the present, but certain principles from the distant past still
found their way into modernist architecture. Landscape architecture should be
seen within the same light, not the least because that discipline is only in rare
instances starting from a tabula rasa.
History refers to a whole cluster of different things: it may be about a design
model or approach from the past, the materials they use (for instances tree
avenues, hedges), the use of specific meanings or narratives and, finally, it may
also be about the past as it is embedded within one specific site regardless of
any design tradition. Adhering to the severe functionalist discourse of the
Nieuwe Zakelijkheid meant taking into consideration the tangible history of a
site: its topography, structures, features and contexts. From a functionalist point
of view, the prime responsibility of the landscape architect is to deliver the
most optimal design solution on one particular site for its users. Whether a
project retains similarities to the practices of the preceding generations is from
this perspective of a secondary importance (figure 4).
Hans Warnau had envisaged a more critical, not demonized, role of the past
within the modernist movement. To serve the needs of a project, specific
aspects of the past were selectively embraced in the present. Yet his approach
to the past was strikingly different from nineteenth-century precedents. He
frequently invokes the German Volkspark (the People’s Park) by Leberecht
Migge and others as an important source of inspiration. He explains how they,
too, no longer started from predetermined models, but took the different
(potential) usages of a place as a starting point to create a new design. Based
on the example of the Volkspark, Warnau suggests that one may benefit greatly
from studying ‘non-designed’ places such as old farm yards and common
meadows, those who were organically shaped over longer periods of time,
even ranging across different centuries, to fit changing needs.23
Now Warnau’s projects also reveal similarities to the design practices of
the preceding generations. What he rejected was the design practice
trying to ‘mislead’ its visitors through the careful manipulation of the
topography and the views such as in the picturesque or landscape garden.
Neither was it possible for the visitors of such a garden to immediately
figure 4. Although the simplicity and the rigid geometry of the Develpark resonates with
know the actual size, nor could they figure out where the meandering modernist discourses, it is still a green oasis, mainly composed of woody patches and lawns, therefore,
pathways would lead them to. Instead, Warnau embraced orthogonal it could also be seen as an extension of established design practices. Yet the design thinking behind
form-languages as a means to create places that were immediately ‘read- this park was fundamentally different from the preceding generations. Photograph by Dorottya
able’ and logical to its users. Within the Develpark he designed several Kóbori (September 2016). Permission for reuse must be obtained from the rightsholder.

62
 dutch landscape architecture and hans warnau
orthogonal voids. His choice of form-language was deeply attuned to
functional considerations: orthogonal spaces being perfectly suited to
sporting activities such as soccer (figure 5).
Non-orthogonal form-languages were also integrated within the design, not
out of nostalgia, but as a response to functional considerations. The main
pathway through the middle of the Develpark suddenly makes a slight bend
without any obvious reason at first sight. In a letter about the original design
proposal, this is explained as discouraging too much car traffic from passing
through the park.24 By making a slight bent, many cars would be inclined to
take another route. Similarly, the park is enclosed by an old river meander.
The outer pathways are placed at oblique angles parallel to the contours of the
river meander. Water recreation activities such as fishing, walking along the
water, swimming in summer time or ice skating at winter time formed an
important part of the original programme of the design assignment. The outer
pathway was thus intended to give an optimal connectivity to the water to
facilitate these kinds of activities.25
One of the few similarities to the nineteenth-century landscape garden is the
integration of scattered groups of trees into the open strips of grassland of the
Develpark. By means of these groups of trees a subtle subdivision in the open space
is created, thereby facilitating different kinds of recreational activities and relating
the space back to the human scale.26 Within his other projects, the flexibility of
Warnau’s design approach is also evident. Another example comes from his design
for the garden ‘De Stove’ in Aerdenhout, designed in 1961. The site, being located
on the dunes, is formed by an undulating topography, inevitably setting the
parameters on what is possible or not in terms of design. Within this project, an
orthogonal layout is, thus, rendered impossible. Instead, the tracing of the path-
ways is carefully adjusted to the contours of the topography (figure 6).
Along with these design-specific considerations, there are other things to
take into account how Dutch modernist design practice relates to the past.
First, the dawn of modernism within the Netherlands coincided with a
renewed interest in the Dutch landscapes. Cornelis van Eesteren even thought
that without the reappraisal of the Dutch polder landscapes the breakthrough of
modernism would not have been possible.27 Similar to modernist parks, the
figure 5. The Develpark combines afforested areas with several rectangular voids. Although being
man-made polder landscape is resolutely geometrical and flat. The term polder attentive to the experience of the place, the design was foremost conceived from a functional point of view—
landscape may refer to flood plains separated from the sea or a river by a dike, the rectangular voids, for instance, being optimally useful for all kinds of sporting activities such as soccer.
marshes separated by the surrounding water by a dike and subsequently Photograph by Dorottya Kóbori (September 2016). Permission for reuse must be obtained from the
drained, or land reclaimed by a larger body of water (such as the sea or a river). rightsholder.

63
 studies in the history of gardens and designed landscapes: heyde
figure 6. Landscape architecture almost never starts from a tabula rasa as opposed to other
disciplines such as modernist art. The sketch plan for the garden de Stove by Warnau illustrates the
design of the pathways in relationship to the existing topography. Hans Warnau, Collectie
TUiN, Special Collections, Wageningen University. Permission for reuse must be obtained
from the rightsholder.
64
The Dutch landscape architecture Jan Bijhouwer (1898–1974) had
encouraged his peers to think more critically about which kind of design
model is the most fitting within the Dutch landscapes. He questioned the
relevance of the nineteenth-century landscape garden imposed upon the
Dutch polder landscape—the landscape garden being more attuned to
landscapes with an undulating topography. From a thorough understand-
ing of the Dutch landscape, Bijhouwer suggests, the future park for the
Netherlands should emerge.28 His persuasive arguments were later on
taken on by a whole generation of Dutch landscape architects, such as
Hans Warnau, and still hold sway up until the present. Adriaan Geuze still
frequently refers to the Dutch landscapes and its engineering traditions of
land reclamations.29
Second, Dutch modernism was also shaped by the scientific study of
phytogeography through the works of H.F. Hartogh Heys van Zouteveen
(1870–1943).30 From a functionalist point of view, an increased impor-
tance was given to plants in relationship to regional or place-specific site
conditions. The emphasis thereby shifted from decorative planting
schemes towards finding the right species for abiotic and biotic site
conditions. Native or naturalized species that stood the test of time
often proved to be the most reliable choice. One of the earliest examples
in this manner is the plan (1922) for the Kralingse Bos in Rotterdam.31 A
breakthrough in the period before the Second World War was the usage
of poplars (Populus spec.) as urban greenery.32 Within Warnau’s oeuvre, we
can also notice a preference for a more restricted palette of (more com-
mon) tree species.
For the Develpark the design phase was preceded with a rigorous site
analysis from which the topography and the different soil types were mapped
by a specialized firm.33 As the Develpark is enclosed by an old river meander,
the site is covered with different kinds of clay and sand. Changes in the
topography have far-reaching consequences: when impermeable layers of soil
get removed or other layers of soil reach the surface through earthworks, then
this changes the place quite drastically. The design for the Develpark deals with
these conditions quite carefully, for instance, through the use of sections,
delineating the exact impact of the earthworks on the soil types, the slopes
and the hydrography. The planting scheme—largely composed of native and
more common woody species—is also carefully attuned to these subtle differ-
ences across the site.34
 dutch landscape architecture and hans warnau
Landscape architecture as a craftsmanship The Develpark also reveals this attentiveness to spatial proportions and the
human scale. Through the spatial sequence of open and wooded enclosed, he
Over the course of the twentieth century landscape architecture found itself
succeeded in provoking a sense of beauty and harmony. The minimalistic,
responding to a daunting range of new design assignments (urban design,
dynamic and orthogonal form-languages of this project resonate with the
civic spaces, recreational facilities, corporate landscapes, infrastructural pro-
form-languages of neoplasticism also known as the De Stijl movement.
jects, etc.). The eminent authority on Dutch landscape architecture, Jan
There are several ways by which the Nieuwe Zakelijkheid resonates with
Bijhouwer, observed that one of the chief advantages of landscape architec-
neoplasticism: both movements share a preference for rather abstract form-
ture with regard to these novel types of design assignments relies on their
languages and they also reject any sort of imitation of ‘nature’ (whatever that
ability to deal with site specificity.35 However, Bijhouwer also witnessed
term might mean). However, many other projects by Warnau do not manifest
some sort of tension with how conventional design approaches related to
such a strong connection to the form-languages of neoplasticism. Even within
these new assignments. In 1954 he declared that much landscape architecture
the Develpark such modernist gestures needed to be fine-tuned in order to
was too often performing in a more decorative manner—too much preoc-
fully correspond to functional considerations (figure 7).
cupied with stylistic compositions by which these new types of design
Within one of his texts, Warnau compares the design of the Develpark with
assignments were slipping beyond their grasp.36
the modernist paintings of Piet Mondian.39 The relevance of neoplasticism for
Bijhouwer’s larger worries about the future of the profession were not
the spatial design disciplines was introduced to Warnau through his close
lost on Warnau. He, too, had envisaged a design practice that was to serve
collaboration with Cornelis van Eesteren. His article on modernist landscape
contemporary society to its fullest potential. To achieve this, landscape
architecture frequently invokes quotations by Theo van Doesburg (another
architecture needed to be different from the modus operandi of the pre-
leading proponent of neoplasticism) and a painting by Piet Mondrian as one of
ceding generations largely focused on the design of private gardens and
his images.40 Yet words do not necessarily express the habits, the thoughts and
parks. For Warnau, landscape architecture needed to be seen foremost as a
the forces that shape design practice. In an interview with his wife, it was
craft and only in rare instances as an art (tempting as it may be). He,
mentioned that she did not really know about the influence of Theo van
therefore, did not saw himself in continuity with the canonical traditions
Doesburg on Warnau nor did she think that it played a significant role in his
(such as the baroque gardens) from previous centuries. Warnau’s down-to-
design practice.41 But whether the Develpark could be seen as an expression of
earth approach and his wide range of interests enabled him to move away
neoplasticism could be interpreted in different ways.
from the design of gardens and parks, towards this expanded field of design
On the one hand, the translation of neoplasticism into the landscape
assignments on different scale levels.
medium entails certain contradictions with which we need to be confronted.
For Warnau, a design needed to be logical and ‘readable’ to provide us with
There is, above all, the fact that ‘culture’ and ‘nature’ are seen as mutually
a sense of clarity and simplicity. He envisaged places that could be used for a
exclusive within the writings of Piet Mondrian. As a result, anything that bears
broad range of purposes. By being simple and straightforward in their spatial
traces of the natural world such as gardens and parks is relegated to the
structures, places could evolve over time and facilitate different uses.37 In one
portmanteau term ‘nature’. ‘Nature’ came to be associated with the past
of his interviews, he declared that when one of his designs was not working
hampering the progress of society. Within his article ‘Neo-plasticisme De
anymore, it should be redone to cope with changing circumstances.38 He
Woning—De Straat—De Stad’ (1927) Mondrian wrote about the translation
never saw them as creations for eternity. Yet Warnau’s design practice also
of neoplasticism into the design of the human environment. At one point,
reveals a careful and subtle attention to spatial proportions and formal qualities.
Mondrian imagined a future in which people are no longer trying to ‘decorate’
He did pay a careful attention to aesthetic qualities, which was still subservient
the streets and the parks with trees and flowers, but are making cities with
to how a place may be used through his heartfelt belief in the principles of the
balanced contrasts of buildings, constructions and empty spaces.42
Nieuwe Zakelijkheid

65
 studies in the history of gardens and designed landscapes: heyde

figure 7. The design plan of the Develpark (app. 20 ha) by Hans Warnau. His use of a modernist form-language and his attentiveness to spatial proportions resonate with the inspiration he drew
from the paintings of Mondrian. Blueprint of the design plan. Source: 474 Stukken betreffende de Recreatiegebied De Hoge Devel, 753 Gemeente Zwijndrecht, 1926–1984, Dordrecht Regional
Archive. Permission for reuse must be obtained from the rightsholder.
66
 dutch landscape architecture and hans warnau
On the other hand, it could be questioned if Warnau would have ever
created a park that more closely resembles the art of neoplasticism (think
of the Schröder House) if given the opportunity. He did continue to use
living materials to create outdoor spaces. His clientele would probably not
have approved of him making parks without any trees in them. His refusal
of the models from the past as well as his criticism on postmodernism
resides in his belief of landscape architecture as a craft (only rarely an art)
and his deep-rooted inclination towards sobriety.43 At the end of his
career, he wrote that looking back on modernism, he would describe
the modernist movement as the period of ‘non-design’.44 So, for Warnau,
neoplasticism was something to be absorbed critically and not literally as
landscape architecture was to serve the needs of contemporary society
(figure 8).
Neoplasticism was much more than a form-language. The aim of
neoplasticism was to dissolve the distance between art and real life. By
means of interior design, architecture, landscape architecture and urban-
ism, the abstract geometries and the universal values of neoplasticism
could be translated into the different spheres of daily life. Arguments of
similitude or morphological analogies alone, as Yve-Alain Bois contends,
do not make the case for the application of neoplasticism to other forms
of design. Instead, Yve-Alain Bois urges us to look at the underlying ideas
that have informed neoplasticism and not solely its concrete
manifestation.45 In other words, the way neoplasticism works in one
discipline may be very different from how it works in another discipline.
Likewise, Mondrian had expressed in 1920 that:

Although the content of all arts is one, the possibilities of plastic exteriorization
are different for each art. Each art discovers these possibilities within its own
domain and must remain limited by its bounds. Each art possesses its own means
of expression: the transformation of its plastic means has to be discovered indepen-
dently by each art and must remain limited by its own bounds. Therefore the
potentialities of one art cannot be judged according to the potentialities of
another, but must be considered independently and only with regard to the
art concerned.46
Finally, Warnau also directs our attention to Dutch modernists’ emphasis on
finding and revealing the beauty within everyday utilitarian things, rather than
imposing an aesthetic formula that has nothing to do with the uniqueness of a
figure 8. Composition II in Red, Blue, and Yellow (1930) by Piet Mondrian. Permission
for reuse must be obtained from the rightsholder.
place—an approach that seems to be indebted to the Nieuwe Zakelijkheid.
According to him, Hubert de Boer was one of the last Dutch landscape
architects who upheld the modernist traditions. As an example, Warnau refers
to a land art project by him which involves a pile of concrete tubes.47 But
there are other examples in the Netherlands which could be invoked as well
for their indebtedness to modernist thinking. I would instance the Schouw-
burgplein in Rotterdam by Adriaan Geuze from West 8 with its iconic crane-
67
 studies in the history of gardens and designed landscapes: heyde
like lighting structures and its unconventional materials such as the steel and
rubber ground surfaces—a reference to Rotterdam’s huge docks and their
imposing crane structures.
The end of modernism
At the end of career, during the 1980s, Warnau had witnessed the break-
through of ‘postmodernism’ within Dutch landscape architecture. It emerged
as a response to the heavy emphasis on functionalism within modernist land-
scape architecture and a tendency towards ecological determinism within
Dutch landscape architecture of the 1970s.48 Postmodernism may be seen as
both a departure and an extension of modernist discourses: it takes the funda-
mental premise of modernism and recasts it in a new way. From the perspec-
tive of modernism the imaginative leap between analysis and design was
downplayed to a large extent, while from the perspective of postmodernism
creative interventions could foster all kinds of new uses and meanings.49
Without trying to impose one way of thinking about design, Warnau was
repeatedly urging his peers to think more critically about postmodernism.50
Examples of postmodernism in Dutch landscape architecture include the Prinsen-
land Park (1983) in Rotterdam by Bureau B+B, different competition entries for the
‘Parkpraat’ competition in 1984,51 as well as different competition entries for the
RGD-garden (1986) in Middelburg,52 the design for the Museum Park (1991) in
Rotterdam by Yves Brunier, the Kromhoutpark (1991) in Tilburg by Bureau B+B,
the Museumplein (1993) in Amsterdam by Sven-Ingvar Andersson and the Park for
the former Westergasfabriek (1998) in Amsterdam by Kathryn Gustafson.53 The
Bureau B+B noticed that their design for the Prinsenland Park from 1983 involved
an ‘intuitive step’ that was decisively different from the prevailing analytical and
functionalist approaches to landscape design at that time.54 According to Warnau,
the emergence of postmodern landscape architecture in the Netherlands was highly
influenced by the redevelopment projects for Barcelona under its city architect
Oriol Bohigas as well as the redevelopment projects for Paris, such as the Parc de la
Villette, as initiated by the French president François Mitterrand.55
Postmodernism in the Netherlands thus denotes a more experimental, crea-
tive and form-oriented approach towards landscape design. Creating bold,
exciting and conspicuous designs often became a purpose on itself. The form-
languages of the different eras (Renaissance, Baroque, Romanticism, Modern-
ism, etc.) and other art forms are re-evaluated and creatively reformulated in
68
unforeseen manners. As a result, postmodernism is often associated with eclecti-
cism and deconstructivism or even landscape design as a form of collage. It is no
surprise that Russian constructivism such as the artworks of Kandinsky and
Malewitsch became an important inspiration for some of these postmodern
landscape architects.56 Furthermore, postmodernism may also include the use
of new materials (think of the Museumpark by Yves Brunier with chunks of
glass, reflective plastic walls, whitewashed tree stems and so on), new ways of
representation, the introduction of pluralism (no longer uniform accepted
truths), design narratives and different associations or themes.
Warnau’s main point of criticism towards postmodernism resides in what he
describes as postmodernism’s populist tendencies and its stylistic freewheeling.
One of its great pitfalls is, as Warnau suggests, that it strives to impose a
‘constant admiration’, different sensations and specific meanings onto its
viewer.57 Elsewhere, Warnau also encouraged postmodernist designers not to
blindly copy fashionable examples from other countries, and to be more
critical about what is fitting into the Dutch landscape.58 Yet Warnau also
praises some of the more subtle and refined examples of postmodernism.
Unsurprisingly, the qualities he admired within these examples, he also
found within the Nieuwe Zakelijkheid: they are practising within a broader,
international context, but they are more subtle and reserved in their composi-
tions with a strong focus on contemporary issues.59
The paradox of modernism reconsidered
It cannot be said that all of the recent writings on modernist landscape
architecture have resulted in much clarity or a consensus. Marc Treib, for
instance, rightfully tackles the question of what is modernism but focuses
his investigation on modernism its formal and visual attributes.60 What is
left, then, is only a small number of modernist gardens such as the cubist
garden in France by Gabriel Guevrekian as fully fitting within the enshrined
category of modernism. But where does Warnau’s deep commitment to
and profound understanding of modernist discourses fit into the narrative?
He may be much more of a modernist than those designers (e.g. Gabriel
Guevrekian, Robert Mallet-Stevens and Pierre-Émile Legrain) who nar-
rowly focus their energies on the vanguard materials and form-languages of
modernism, and gave no expression whatsoever to modernism its functional
and social agendas.
 dutch landscape architecture and hans warnau
There is, I suppose, nothing wrong with a proper attention to the formal and
the visual attributes of gardens and landscapes, except when it relegates all other
values to a secondary importance. Others, however, have urged us to be more
critical about modernism from a completely different point of view. Stephen Krog
has questioned some of these early attempts at modernism stubbornly trying to
copy the vanguard aesthetics from another discipline into the landscape medium.
He suggests that landscape architecture got side-tracked into covering the formal
effects of the arts with little or no understanding of the philosophies associated
with these images. ‘With the best of intentions, landscape architecture has appro-
priated the images of modern art and oriental gardens but—out of ignorance,
convenience, or deliberation—failed to comprehend the ideas that generated
those images. […] Of modern art’s formative imperatives—the antimaterial phi-
losophies of Mondrian and Kandinsky, utopian social ideologies, psychoanalysis—
we find little mention and even less comprehension in the writings of the early
modern landscape architects’.61
To what extent Krog’s trenchant criticism holds true for other forms of
modernist landscape architecture I do not know, but Hans Warnau certainly
did not think about modernism as merely a formal or a visual affair. He was
well-acquainted with the discourse of the Nieuwe Zakelijkheid and its concern
with sobriety, simplicity and purposefulness precluded him from looking at
design as a stylistic exercise, which anyhow runs the risk of being silly or
embarrassing as compared to the achievements of modernist architecture.
Although neoplasticism did not figure that prominently within the design
practice of Hans Warnau, he did reflect upon the (potential) relationship of his
own work to neoplasticism, but he somewhat ignores some of the contradictions
and the difficulty in translating neoplasticism into landscape architecture. So
where does this leave the paradox of modernism within landscape architecture?
In the final resort, I believe that the significance of Hans Warnau within the
narratives of modernist landscape architecture is best understood through the
concept of the ‘modern other’, a term coined by Elizabeth Meyer in her essay
‘The Expanded Field of Landscape Architecture’ (1997). Meyer essentially chal-
lenges us to see how badly landscape architecture is served by descriptions derived
solely from architectural discourses.62 The concept of the ‘modern other’ suggests
that modernist landscape architecture can be both an extension of established
modernist discourses and a critique or reconstruction of modernism; both
approaches often simultaneously intermingled in design practice.63 Some of the
most striking characteristics of Dutch landscape architecture from the decades
following the Second World War have been their constant struggle for legitimacy
against the more established disciplines of architecture and urbanism, and their
attentiveness to traces of the past within their projects—striking because modernist
society was still to a large extent indifferent to how history manifested itself within
the landscape.64
Another consequence is that the ‘modern other’ needs to be constructed
through its dialogue with a broader range of disciplinary backgrounds. Like-
wise, David Haney has described the design practice of the German modernist
Lebberecht Migge through his indebtedness, most notably, to architectural
modernism and new developments within the environmental sciences, what
Migge described as the ‘biotechnic’.65 Hans Warnau may also be seen in this
light. Along with modernist art, architecture and urbanism, he integrated
knowledge from geography (the study of the Dutch polder landscapes) and
the science of phytogeography into his design practice. Yet the term modern-
ism seems to be deeply imprinted by the established discourses from architec-
ture and art. Perhaps, it is more useful to refer to these forms of modernist
landscape architecture as the ‘modern other’ or even as ‘green modernism’ to
register at once its similarities and its differences.
What Warnau envisaged was essentially an emancipation of the profes-
sion: to find its own niche within the spatial design disciplines in dialogue
with different fields of interest and yet beholden by none of them. He
succeeded in liberating landscape architecture from its strong preoccupa-
tion with horticultural affairs through his focus on modernist discourses.
Modernism was something to be adopted critically, not literally, within a
broader context of different domains of expertise that pertain to the land.
With a similar purpose in mind, ‘landscape architecture’ as a term was first
explained by Armand Péan in the nineteenth century: a new discipline
that could not be adequately understood through conventional disciplin-
ary identities (gardener, artist, architect, etc.) but that denotes an integra-
tive practice combining different fields of expertise (from the arts and the
sciences) into a design-led activity.66
Acknowledgements
This contribution is a thoroughly rewritten and further expanded version
of an essay I had to write for the course ‘Reflections on Planning and
Design Practices’ (2016–2017) at the Wageningen University (course
69
 studies in the history of gardens and designed landscapes: heyde
coordinators: Martijn Duineveld and Adriaan Geuze). I am grateful
towards Adriaan Geuze for his introduction to Warnau and guided tour
at the Develpark, as well as Paul Roncken and Daniel Jauslin for sharing
their valuable insights on many related topics. My appreciation also goes
to the ‘Develgroup’ (Merel Gerritsen, Isabella Hol, Kris Kersten, Dorottya
Kóbori, Kareena Kochery, Mengli Zhou and myself) for the lively dis-
cussions on the Develpark, modernism and Hans Warnau. Many thanks
are due to Daniel Jauslin for his gracious support in getting the right
images. A previous version of this paper has benefitted from the reviews
by Marinke Steenhuis and Daniel Jauslin. Finally, I would like to thank
the editor of this journal and two anonymous reviewers for their astute
observations by which the quality of this paper has been improved
significantly.
Disclosure statement
No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.
Department of Environmental Sciences, Wageningen University,
Wageningen, The Netherlands

NOTES

1. Marshall Berman, All that is Solid Melts into Air:
The Experience of Modernity (London: Penguin,
1988), p. 9.
2. Ibid., p. 24.
3. Ibid., p. 21.
4. One of the most useful discussions on the relationship
between function and design can be found in the
following book. Dorothée Imbert, Between Garden
and City: Jean Canneel-Claes and Landscape Modernism
(Pittsburgh, PA: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2009).
5. I am grateful to one of the anonymous reviewers for
the sharp observations on this topic.
6. Richard L. Hindle, ‘Stanley Hart White and the
Question of “What is Modern?”’, Studies in the
History of Gardens & Designed Landscapes, 33/3,
2013, p. 174.
7. David Yeomans, ‘The Origins of the Modern Cur-
tain Wall’, APT Bulletin, 32/1, 2001, p. 14.
8. D. J. M. van der Voordt and H. B. R. van Wegen,
Architecture in Use: An Introduction to the Programming,
Design and Evaluation of Buildings (Amsterdam; Bos-
ton: Architectural Press, 2005), p. 25.
9. Dorothée Imbert, The Modernist Garden in France
(New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993).
10. Howard Burlingham Dunington-Grubb, ‘Modernis-
mus Arrives in the Garden—To Stay? An Inquiry
Into the Course of Current Trends’, Landscape Archi-
tecture, 32, 1942, p. 157.
11. Gerrie Andela, Tuin- en landschapsarchitect Hans
Warnau (Wageningen: Uitgeverij Blauwdruk,
2006), p. 10.
12. Ibid., pp. 193–197.
13. Ibid., pp. 17–43.
14. Lecture given by Adriaan Geuze in October 2016 at
the Wageningen University. See also Adriaan
Geuze, ‘Manifest’, Archis, 3, 1991, p. 43; Gerrie
Andela, ‘Uitdagende landschappen voor ontdek-
kingsreizigers: Vervreemding en verzoening in het
werk van West 8’, Archis, 2, 1994, p. 39.
15. Meto Vroom, Leren kijken: het Wageningse onderwijs
en onderzoek in de tuin- en landschapsarchitectuur
(Wageningen: Blauwdruk, 2014), p. 86.
16. Andela, Tuin- en landschapsarchitect Hans Warnau, p.
140.
17. Hans Warnau, ‘Landschapsarchitectuur en de mod-
erne stroming in de bouwkunde’, in Gerrit Smienk
(ed.), Nederlandse landschapsarchitectuur: tussen traditie
en experiment (Amsterdam: Thoth, 1993), p. 33.
18. Andreu Arriola, Adriaan Geuze, Steen Høyer, Ber-
nard Huet, Peter Latz, David Louwerse, Norfried
Pohl and Clemens Steenbergen, ‘Dealing with the
Modern Movement’, in Martin Knuijt, Hans
Ophuis en Peter van Saarne (eds), Modern Park
Design: Recent Trends (Amsterdam: Uitgeverij
Thoth, 1993), p. 51.
19. Warnau suggested that modernists’ supposed disre-
gard of meaning is a pervasive misconception.
According to him, modernists were indeed attentive
to meaning in place making, but they looked at this
in a radically different way than the previous
generations.
20. Warnau, ‘Landschapsarchitectuur en de moderne
stroming in de bouwkunde’, p. 39.
21. Ibid.
22. Alan Colquhoun, Essays in Architectural Criticism:
Modern Architecture and Historical Change (Cambridge,
MA: MIT Press, 1986), p. 11.
23. Warnau, ‘Landschapsarchitectuur en de moderne
stroming in de bouwkunde’, p. 35.
24. Municipality Zwijndrecht (1959), correspondences
with the design studio Buys Meijers Warnau, 476
Stukken betreffende de Recreatiegebied De Hoge Devel:

70
 dutch landscape architecture and hans warnau
aanleg, diverse zaken, 753 Gemeente Zwijndrecht,
1926–1984, Dordrecht Regional Archive.
25. Ibid.
26. Based on a letter in which Warnau summarizes the
design. De Hoge Devel, Zwijndrecht (52.004), Hans
Warnau, Collectie TUiN, Special Collections,
Wageningen University.
27. Warnau mentions this in one of his articles although
he gives no further explanation. Warnau, ‘Land-
schapsarchitectuur en de moderne stroming in de
bouwkunde’, p. 33.
28. Gerrie Andela and Adriaan Geuze, J.T.P. Bijhouwer:
grensverleggend landschapsarchitect (Rotterdam: Uitge-
verij 010, 2011), p. 53.
29. Monica Wesseling, ‘Stijlvol maar vernacheld’, Trouw
(26 March 2017), p. 26.
30. Andela, Tuin- en landschapsarchitect Hans Warnau, p.
11.
31. Marinke Steenhuis, Stedenbouw in het landschap: Pieter
Verhagen (1882–1950), ed. Auke van der Woud (Rot-
terdam: NAi Uitgevers, 2007).
32. David Louwerse, ‘De wederopbouw en de vorm-
geving van het stedelijk groen’, in Gerrit Smienk
(ed.), Nederlandse landschapsarchitectuur: tussen traditie
en experiment (Amsterdam: Thoth, 1993), p. 27.
33. 478 Stukken betreffende de Recreatiegebied De Hoge
Devel: grondonderzoek, 753 Gemeente Zwijndrecht,
1926–1984, Dordrecht Regional Archive.
34. The Develpark includes ornamental species in smal-
ler numbers and at specific points. For many other
projects Warnau did not use any ornamental species.
Although it is certain that the design is by Warnau, it
is not sure that the planting plan is made by him. He
was at that time part of the design studio Buys
Meijers Warnau. Meijers’ name also frequently
occurs in the archival documents. Steven Heyde,
Kris Kersten, Merel Gerritsen, Isabella Hol, Kóbori
Dorottya, Mengli Zhou and Kareena Kochery,
Develpark bij Hans Warnau: Analysis of the Develpark
in Zwijndrecht (LAR-37,306 Reflections on Planning
and Design Practices, 18 October 2016), p. 12.
35. Jan Tijs Pieter Bijhouwer, ‘De tuinarchitectuur en
haar moeilijkheden’, Bouw, 4, 1954, p. 61.
36. Ibid., pp. 61–63.
37. Harry Harsema, ‘Hans Warnau: functionalist in de
landschapsarchitectuur’, Plan: maandblad voor ontwerp
en omgeving, 16/9, 1985, p. 30.
38. Anja Guinée, ‘Kwaliteit die van ontworpen buiten-
ruimten architectuur maakt: het werk van land-
schapsarchitect Hans Warnau’, Blauwe Kamer profiel:
tijdschrift voor landschapsontwikkeling en stedebouw, 4,
1996, p. 36.
39. Based on a letter in which Warnau summarizes the
design. De Hoge Devel, Zwijndrecht (52.004), Hans
Warnau, Collectie TUiN, Special Collections,
Wageningen University.
40. Warnau, ‘Landschapsarchitectuur en de moderne
stroming in de bouwkunde’..
41. Andela, Tuin- en landschapsarchitect Hans Warnau, p.
187.
42. Piet Mondriaan, ‘Neo-plasticisme: De Woning—De
Straat—De Stad’, Internationale Revue, 10, 1926, p.
12.
43. Lodewijk Wiegersma, ‘Over de vakopvatting van
Hans Warnau’, Groen: vakblad voor groen in stad en
landschap, 58/7/8, 2002, p. 38.
44. Warnau, ‘Landschapsarchitectuur en de moderne
stroming in de bouwkunde’, p. 35.
45. Yve-Alain Bois, ‘Mondrian and the Theory of
Architecture’, Assemblage, 4, 1987.
46. Quoted in ibid., p. 107.
47. Warnau, ‘Landschapsarchitectuur en de moderne
stroming in de bouwkunde’, pp. 39–40.
48. Imke van Hellemondt, ‘Van groei naar ontwerp:
Het beeld van de Nederlandse landschapsarchitec-
tuur in de jaren zeventig ‘, Kunstlicht, 27/1, 2006.
49. Ian H. Thompson, Rethinking Landscape: A Critical
Reader (London; New York: Routledge, 2009), p.
121.
50. Warnau, ‘Landschapsarchitectuur en de moderne
stroming in de bouwkunde’, p. 33; Hans Warnau,
‘Overdenkingen bij een vijftal franse werken’, in
David Louwers en Han Meyer (eds), De stad, een
landschap: stadsontwerp in Franse landschapsontwerpen
(Delft: Publikatieburo Faculteit der Bouwkunde,
1992); Hans Warnau, ‘“Ménage à trois” in Middel-
burg nogmaals bezien’, Groen, 3, 1988.
51. Lodewijk Wiegersma, Schetsen aan een betere omgev-
ing: tuin- en landschapsarchitectuurprijsvragen 1947–2006
(Wageningen: Uitgeverij Blauwdruk, 2014), pp.
66–73.
52. Ibid., pp. 74–82.
53. Thanks are due to Adriaan Geuze, Paul Roncken
and Daniel Jauslin for their guided tours at some of
these projects.
54. Lara Voerman, ‘Projecten’, in Marinke Steenhuis
(ed.), Bureau B+B Stedenbouw en landschapsarchitectuur:
Een collectief talent 1977–2010 (Rotterdam: NAi Uitg-
evers, 2010), p. 138.
55. Hans Warnau, ‘Overdenkingen bij een vijftal franse
werken’, in David Louwers en Han Meyer (eds), De
stad, een landschap: stadsontwerp in Franse landschapsont-
werpen (Delft: Publikatieburo Faculteit der Bouw-
kunde, 1992), p. 19; Warnau, ‘“Ménage à trois” in
Middelburg nogmaals bezien’, p. 38.
56. Warnau, ‘“Ménage à trois” in Middelburg nogmaals
bezien’, p. 37.
57. Ibid., p. 38.
58. Warnau, ‘Overdenkingen bij een vijftal franse wer-
ken’, p. 19.
59. Hans Warnau, ‘“Ménage à trois” in Middelburg
nogmaals bezien’, p. 38.
60. Marc Treib, ‘Landscapes Transitional, Modern,
Modernistic, Modernist’, Journal of Landscape Archi-
tecture, 8/1, 2013, p. 6.
61. Stephen Krog, ‘Whither the Garden?’, in Stuart
Wreke en William Howard Adams (eds), Denatured
Visions: Landscape and Culture in the Twentieth Century
(New York: Museum of Modern Art, 1991), p. 96.
62. Elizabeth Meyer, ‘The Expanded Field of Landscape
Architecture’, in George F. Thompson en Frederick
R. Steiner (eds), Ecological Design and Planning (New
York: John Wiley & Sons, 1997), p. 72.
71
 studies in the history of gardens and designed landscapes: heyde
63. Dorothée Imbert, ‘The Form of Function: Theoriz- 64. Marinke Steenhuis, Fransje Hooimeijer, Wijnand
ing Modernity in the Garden, 1920–1939’, in Galema, Coosje Berkelbach and Jannes Linders,
Therese O’Malley en Joachim Wolschke-Bulmahn Maakbaar landschap: Nederlandse landschapsarchitec-
(eds), Modernism and Landscape Architecture, 1890–1940 tuur 1945–1970 (Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers,
(Washington: National Gallery of Art, 2015), p. 11. 2009), p. 12.
65. David H. Haney, When Modern Was Green: Life and
Work of Landscape Architect Leberecht Migge (New
York; London: Routledge, 2010).
66. Armand Péan, Parcs et jardins, résumé des notes d’un
praticien (Paris: E. Leroux, 1878), p. 2.

72