Sitemap
View of St. Louis Gateway Arch at the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial from the north pond, by architect Eero Saarinen and landscape architect Dan Kiley. IMAGES/ Terence Lee

The Brave New Landscape in a World of Artificial Intelligence

7 min readJun 5, 2025

(originally published in GROUND Issue 64 — Winter 2023)

On March 22, 2023, a group of technologists, the Future of Life Institute, along with other technology elites like Apple co-founder Steve Wozniak and Tesla CEO Elon Musk, CEO of Tesla, signed an open letter expressing their concerns for the extraordinarily rapid growth of Artificial Intelligence (AI). Concerns are founded, given AI’s ability to imitate humanity’s every move, and the sum total of our knowledge readily available on the internet, it’s no wonder they called for a six-month hiatus on the training of AI systems. AI is no doubt an exciting new technology that holds tremendous promise for automation. Some even refer to it as the extension of humanity. While clearly fraught with dire implications that magnify dangers of misinformation and false-realities in our public discourse, AI is quickly becoming the new frontier.

However, what AI cannot do is to create. More specifically, AI cannot create with creativity and truly invent or innovate. That will always require imagination, a singularly human trait that cannot be replicated, especially when we consider the human condition of emotion, desire, and fear. We are in that moment now: most of us are suspicious and fearful of where AI can go. It is certainly taking the machine to a whole new level. Let’s not forget that machine, computers, and automation have always been part of our destiny and detriment. Advancement in the industrial age led to new and inventive machinery. The production line once tended by human labour has been replaced largely with machines and robots. Then machines became more powerful, coming to be known as computers. If there is any solace in this, it is that we’ve been here before. But, like those generations that came before us, we, humans found other more important things to do. We put our human ingenuity to work and invented more technologies to enrich our lives, found cures for diseases, and even vaccines to manage a global pandemic. We’ve been here before and there is yet plenty of space for humans to create.

Regarding landscape architecture, I know of a few moments of true ingenious creative thought: moments that led to new paradigms that are the very foundations of our field today. To think of these examples as beautiful works of landscape architecture is not enough. We must put these into the historical context of what we know today as modern landscape architecture, that in one moment in time, a few individuals invented a new way of thinking, a new approach to the design of our outdoor spaces, all without technology, without AI. My perspective on these brilliant moments are summarized here.

View of horse chestnut allee (today Ohio buckeye) at the Miller House and Garden, Columbus, ndiana, by Dan Kiley. IMAGE/ Terence Lee

When Dan Kiley visited the French gardens of Le Notre towards the end of the Second World War, he was taken aback by the beauty and clarity. He discovered how landscapes can be expressed in powerful compositions of “lines, allées and orchards/bosques of trees, tapis verts and clipped hedges, canals, pools and fountains could be tools to build landscapes of clarity and infinity, just like a walk in the woods.” With his fortunate association with the likes of architects Louis Kahn and Eero Saarinen, and a keen eye for modern architecture, his brilliant moment came when he realized the aesthetics of French gardens were complimentary to modern architecture. Lines of clarity in architecture became clarity of landscape expression. Vast, low ground covers and clipped hedges gave way to panoramic views of the landscape beyond. Kiley’s design for the garden at the Miller House in Columbus, Indiana, is punctuated with trees and allées, so that the sunken family room enjoys an impressive view of an open lawn and the Flatrock River valley beyond.

View of interior of family room and landscape beyond at the Miller House and Garden, Columbus, Indiana, by architect Eero Saarinen and landscape architect Dan Kiley. IMAGE/ Terence Lee

Instead of using the allées in a traditional sense, the trunks of honey locust trees were used as columns to create a loggia along the westerly frontage of the house. Each room in the house has unique views of the landscape, which is, in turned, designed to compliment each room. These landscape rooms are subdivided by ground covers and hedges. Kiley continued his use of the formal composition of trees and gardens throughout his career, citing frequently that a walk through a bosque of trees is like a walk in the woods. The association of the clarity of French gardens with nature and architecture was employed to astounding effect, and became one of Kiley’s unique signatures.

View of reflective pool and fountain at Cleveland Clinic Main Campus, by PWP Landscape Architecture. IMAGES/ Terence Lee

Unlike the way Kiley brought the clarity of French gardens into modern landscape architecture, Peter Walker introduced the sensibility and discipline of modern art into his craft. Minimalism in art requires a high sense of attention to detail. Every detail in a piece of minimalist art counts. The execution is an integral part of the expression of the art itself. Throughout his decades of practice, Peter Walker brought this discipline into landscape architecture and focused on execution as the key component in expressing his landscape creations. From the IBM Solana office builiding, to a series of projects in Japan in the 90’s like Marugame Station Plaza, the Toyota Municipal Museum of Art, and ”Sky Forest” at Saitama-Shintoshin Station. And nowhere else has any one project brought together the culmination of a design practice’s ultimate search for expression and execution excellence than the National September 11 Memorial in New York.

View of the waterfalls, stone benches and the Glade at National September 11 Memorial, by PWP Landscape Architecture. IMAGES/ Terence Lee

There, you will find the reoccurring themes and motifs in Walker’s firm PWP Landscape Architecture’s work expressed in its fullest intent. Lines of trees and paving create a banded pattern that envelopes the site, resulting in a wholistic vision for the project. While uncharacteristic for PWP, tree spacing along each row of trees differs due to conflicts with the myriad of proposed and existing utilities. The clarity of space was created by Walker’s endeavour for a clean and flat site. This was done by frequent rows of slot drains designed into the banded pattern to minimize the rise over run distance for positive drainage. With the incredible amount of project complications, from client stakeholders to site design issues, not to mention an immaculate waterfall feature designed by Dan Euser (Canadian landscape architect and water feature designer), the site is executed with rigour and precision, not uncommon for PWP.

View of landform, path, earthwork, water feature and landform at the University Commons, University of Cincinnati, by Hargreaves Jones. IMAGES/ Terence Lee

From the finite to the expansive, George Hargreaves sought the answer for large-scale landscape interventions in the works of land art. Like Michael Heizer and Robert Smithson, Hargreaves approached his early work with unencumbered enthusiasm for working with the earth. Pushing and sculpting the land, Hargreaves drew inspiration from land art for an approach to create large scale landscape interventions that was both functional, as park spaces, and practical, as large infrastructural-scale construction projects. Against the norm, Hargreaves Associates (now Hargreaves Jones) worked in close collaboration with engineers to create a sculpted riverfront park system, known as the Guadalupe River Park, that became an accessible and enjoyable place for people, as well functioning flood mitigation for downtown San Jose. While many of Hargreaves works do not resemble the typical aesthetic of the classic Olmstedian landscape architecture of New York’s Central Park, the intent and ambition is comparable. Earth mounds that resemble nature-created landforms at the William J. Clinton Presidential Library offer respite and open space to be enjoyed, or the intricate braided-landscape resembling the fluvial movements of a once active creek functions as paths and resting spaces at University of Cincinnati are all examples of Hargreaves’ ambitious, large scale landscape interventions.

View of landform, path, earthwork, water feature and landform at the University Commons, University of Cincinnati, by Hargreaves Jones. IMAGES/ Terence Lee

These examples are only a snippet of brilliant and unique moments in the history of design in landscape architecture. They are singular moments, created by designers who found their own and unique voice, and cannot be synthesized or generated by a machine. If we focus on design that is human, socially conscious, empathetic to society, machines and AI will become irrelevant. After all, behind all machines are the humans who create them. Behind all AI, there are humans inputting prompts. AI can be a powerful tool, but concerns about it taking over society simply puts the focus back on humanity and the importance of unique designs and designers, as humanity continues its move towards the brave new world.

--

--

Terence Lee
Terence Lee

Written by Terence Lee

Landscape Architect, sometimes writer.

No responses yet